To and fro, to and fro, on the quarter-deck walked the imperturbable
Yankee, Mr Hall, quietly pulling at his huge cigar. He had seen the
ladies, and had told them straight that it was to be a fearful storm,
and now he would wait to see what Fate had in store for them.
But more impatient far was Captain Dickson. Would steam never be got
up? He had an idea which way the storm would come, and he wanted to
steam southwards, and as much out of its track as possible.
At last the steam begins to roar, and now the screw revolves, and the
good ship cleaves its way through the darkness of sky and sea. Dickson
is somewhat relieved. He puts two men to the wheel, and sailors lash
them to it. Well Dickson knows that the storm will be a fearful one.
Who is this fluttering up along the deck? A little dot all in white--
nothing on but a night-dress. Matty, of course.
"I lunned away," she explained, "and tomed (came up) to see the
lightnin's flash."
"Oh, my darling!" cried Reginald, "you must come with me at once!"
He picked the little fairy up, and quickly had her safely below again.
The men were busy battening down when he returned to deck. Here and
there along the bulwarks loose ropes were left that the men, if needful,
might lash themselves to the rigging.
But now the rain began to come down, first in scattered drops, then in a
hot and awful torrent. Louder and louder roared the thunder, brighter
and still more vivid flashed the lightning. The thunder-claps followed
the lightning so quickly that Dickson knew it was very near.
"Lash yourselves, lads!" the skipper roared through the
speaking-trumpet. "She is coming!"
Ah! come she did. And no shoreman can ever tell what the vehemence of a
circular hurricane like this sweeping across the ocean is like in
strength and vehemence.
Dickson had just time to shout, "The first shock will be the strongest,
boys," when the terrible storm burst upon the doomed ship with a
violence indescribable, and a noise like a hundred great guns fired at
once.
Thrown at first almost on her beam-ends, she soon righted, and now she
was tossed about like a cork. High up on a mighty wave at one moment,
down in a dark gulf the next. The foam of the breaking waters and the
incessant lightning was the only light they had, and in this glare the
faces of the crew looked blue and ghastly.
Bravely did the men stick to the wheel. Hall himself had gone early
below to comfort the ladies. Yet, although the waves and spray were
making a clean breach over the ship, luckily she was well battened down,
and it was dry below. The seas that tumbled inboard were hot and
seething.
Mr Hall prevailed upon his wife and daughter to lie down on the
lockers, or couches, and to these he did his best to lash them; but so
great was the uncertain motion, that he had to clutch with one hand to
the table while he did so.
The air down below was as hot as the waters on deck; hot and sulphurous,
so that the perspiration stood on the brows of all below. It was indeed
a fearful storm.
But it lulled at last, though two men had been called to their account--
swept overboard in the clutches of a great green sea.
It lulled; but the intensity of the pitchy darkness still continued. It
was no longer a circular storm, but a gale, settling down to less than
half a gale towards the commencement of the morning watch. But the
binnacle had been washed away, and the men were steering only by blind
chance.
Just as daylight, grey and gloomy, began to appear in the east, an awful
tell-tale rasping was heard beneath the keel of the _Wolverine_, and
almost at once two of her masts went by the board.
"Axes, men!" cried Dickson--"axes, and clear away the wreck!"
It was a dangerous and difficult task, with every now and then a huge
sea rushing in from astern, and all but sweeping the decks.
Daylight came in quickly now, though clouds seemingly a mile in depth
obscured the sun, and the horizon was close on board of them all around.
But yonder, looming through the mist, was a coral shore, with huge
rugged, and apparently volcanic, mountains rising behind it. Fearing
she would soon break up, Captain Dickson determined to lower a boat at
all hazards, manned by four of his strongest and best sailors. In this
Hall begged that his wife might go with the maid, and the request was
granted. Mr Hall watched that boat as she rose and fell on the
troubled waters with the greatest anxiety and dread. Suddenly he
staggered and clutched the rigging, and his eyes seemed starting from
his head.
"Oh, my God! my God!" he cried. "My wife! my wife!"
For a bigger wave than any, a huge breaker or bore, in fact came rushing
from seawards and engulfed the unfortunate boat.
And she was never seen, nor anyone who had gone in her. The crew and
poor Mrs Hall, with her maid, now--
"Lie where pearls lie deep,
Yet none o'er their low bed may weep."
Mr Hall was led below by the kind-hearted captain himself, and threw
himself on a couch in an agony of grief. Dickson forced him to take a
large stimulant, and put a man to watch him, fearing he might rush on
deck and pitch himself into the sea.
As to their whereabouts, or the latitude and longitude of that strange,
wild island, Dickson knew nothing. He had many times and oft sailed
these seas, and was certain he had never seen those lofty peaks and
rugged hills before. Although the wind continued, and the keel was
breaking up, although she was fast making water below, he determined to
hang on to her as long as possible, for there was a probability that the
storm might soon die away.
Some of the crew, however, grew impatient at last, and, in spite of
threats, lowered another boat, into which crowded six men.
Alas! they, too, went down before they were many yards from the wreck.
But see these figures now flitting up and down on the coral sands! And,
strangest sight of all, there is among those dusky, almost naked
savages, the tall and commanding figure of a white woman, dressed in
skins. The savages are evidently obeying her slightest behest, for a
queen she is.
With ropes of grass they are stoutly binding together three large
canoes, flanked by outriggers, thus forming a kind of wide raft. Then
these are launched, and right rapidly do the paddles flash and drip and
ply, as the triple craft nears the ship. The raft seems to come through
the seas rather than over them, but busy hands are baling, and, by the
time this strange construction arrives on the lee bow, the canoes are
free of water.
The _Wolverine_ has but few on board her now, only eight men of the
crew, with the officers, little Matty, Hall, and Miss Hall. These
latter are lowered first, with three men. They are safely landed
through the surf, and Dickson can see the strange white woman advance
towards them with outstretched arms.
The raft comes back again, and all on board are now taken off, Captain
Dickson being the last to leave the doomed ship.
Oscar, the grand Newfoundland, prefers to swim. No terrors have the
waves or surf for him, and he is on shore barking joyfully as he races
up and down the beach long before the raft rasps upon the silver sands.
The strange, skin-dressed lady met them. She was English, and dubbed
herself Queen of the Isle of Flowers.
"For ten long years," she told Captain Dickson, "I have been here, and
yours is the first ship I have seen. But come to my house behind the
hills, and I will tell you my strange story later on."
Though drenched to the skin, they all most gladly followed the Queen, up
glens, and by zigzag paths, and over wild hills, till at last they came
to one of the wildest and most beautiful valleys these adventurers had
ever beheld. Now they could understand how the Queen had named it the
Isle of Flowers.
A beautiful stream went meandering through the valley with every species
of tropical or semi-tropical flowering trees it is possible to imagine
growing on its banks. No wonder that Matty, whom Reginald carried in
his strong arms, cried:
"Oh, doc, dear, zis (this) is surely fairyland! Oh, doc, I'se dizzy wi'
beauty!"
"Hurry on," said the Queen; "a keen wind is blowing on this hilltop."
In the midst of a forest of magnolias that scented the air all around,
they found the road that led to the Queen's palace. A long, low
building it was, and seemingly comfortable; but the path that led to it
was bordered on each side with human skulls placed upon poles.
Noticing Dickson's look of horror, she smiled.
"These are the skulls of our enemies--a tribe that in war canoes visited
our island a few years ago, but never found their way back. My people
insisted on placing those horrid relics there. Had I refused my
permission, I should have been deposed, probably even slain."
Into one room she showed the ladies, the officers and few remaining men
into another. Here were couches all around, with comfortable mats of
grass, and on these, tired and weary, everyone lay and many slept, till
their garments were dried in the sun by the Queen's servants.
It was afternoon now, but the wind had lulled, and soon it was night,
clear and starry. The vessel had gone on shore at low tide, but some
time during the middle watch a great wave had lifted her and thrown her
on her beam-ends high up on the coral sands.
Next morning, when Dickson and Reginald went over the hills, after a
hearty breakfast of roast yams and delicious fish, they found that the
sea had receded so far that they could walk around the wreck on the dry
sand.
That day was spent--with the assistance of the Queen's special
servants--in saving from the vessel everything of value, especially
stores, and the ship's instruments.
Casks of rum and flour, casks of beans, and even butter, with nearly all
the bedding and clothes. These latter were spread on the beach to dry.
Inland, to the Queen's mansion, everything else was borne on litters.
But the greatest "save" of all was the arms and ammunition, to say
nothing of tools of every description, and canvas wherewith good tents
might be built later on.
When all was secured that could be secured, and the remainder of the
crew had joined them--
"Men," said Dickson, "let us pray."
Down on the coral strand knelt the shipwrecked men, while, with eyes
streaming with tears, Captain Dickson prayed as perhaps he had never
prayed before, to that Heavenly Father who had spared the lives of those
before him.
The natives stood aside wonderingly, but they listened intently and
earnestly when, led by their captain, the mariners sang a portion of
that beautiful psalm:
"God is our refuge and our strength,
In straits a present aid;
Therefore, although the earth remove,
We will not be afraid."