The raft still floated uninjured; the sea continued perfectly calm.
Harry and David retained their health and spirits, hoping that they
should reach the land at last; and the old man appeared to be steadily
recovering. The calm tried them in one respect more than when the wind
blew, because after the raft had been strengthened they had nothing to
do. They talked of the past and of the future, but even friends cannot
talk on all day, especially if they are hungry and thirsty, and are
anxious about any matter. At last David recollected that they had taken
some fishing lines and hooks out of the boat, and thrown them with other
articles on the raft. They were soon discovered, and the lads flattered
themselves that they had nothing more to do than to bait the hooks, if
bait could be found, and to throw them overboard. Old Jefferies smiled
when he saw their preparations, and told them that, although certain
fish were to be caught occasionally in the open sea, the greater number
were to be found along the coasts of the different countries of the
world. "To my mind God has so ordered it that all the fish which best
serve for the food of man swim round and round the coasts of the
countries of the world, in shallow water, where they can be got at and
caught, or else they visit certain known spots, like the banks of
Newfoundland, or the fishing grounds in the North Sea. Now if they all
lived in the deep seas, or kept wandering about to all parts just as
fancy led them, fishermen would never know where to go and look for
them. Instead of that, as I have said, as the seasons come round, God
leads them to the same places and almost on the same day every year; and
so the fisherman is prepared with his nets or lines to catch them.
However, I don't mean to say that there are no fish out even in
mid-ocean, and if we get our lines, perhaps we shall catch some."
The lines were fitted in different ways; one with a heavy lead that it
might sink towards the bottom, the other to throw to a distance, and
then to drag quickly back again. The chief difficulty was with regard
to the bait. David, however, proposed using a piece of salt pork,
though old Jefferies thought that no fish would bite at it.
"I'll try, at all events," he answered; and baiting his hook he threw it
skilfully to a considerable distance. He tried over and over again till
his arm grew tired, while Henry let his line down to its entire end, but
neither of them got a bite.
"Very little use, I am afraid," said Harry, drawing up his line.
"Let it hang out, at all events. It can do no harm, and something may
take a fancy to it," observed David, again throwing his own line.
"Halloa! I have got something--a big fellow, too--he'll pull me off the
raft if I don't take care. Lend a hand, Harry."
Harry took hold of the line. Now they were able to haul in some of the
line, and then again the fish swam off in an opposite direction,
actually moving the raft.
"It may be a porpoise," said Harry.
"Perhaps it is a shark!" exclaimed David. "It can't be a young whale."
"It is a big fish of some sort, of that there is no doubt," responded
Harry. "The fellow will get tired before long, and then we will make
him show his nose."
"If he does not cut through the line before that," observed old
Jefferies, who would not pronounce as to what fish it was.
"If the line does not break I have little fear of its being cut through,
for there is a long shank to the hook, and the line has never been
slack," answered David, hauling in more of the line.
The fish, if such it was, at length began to grow weary of towing the
raft, and allowed himself to be drawn nearer and nearer till his mouth
was seen for an instant close to the surface.
"Ah! I know him," exclaimed old Jefferies. "A shark! a shark! he's as
mischievous a fellow as any that swims, though he will hurt no one who
does not put his hand down his mouth."
He explained that the fish they had hooked was the _blue shark_, which,
although he does not attempt to take the fisherman's life, is yet one of
his greatest foes. If he cannot bite through a line he often rolls it
round and round himself in a way that is most difficult for the
fisherman to undo; and sometimes he will swim among the nets, killing
the fish in mere wantonness apparently, and biting the meshes. Now and
then, however, he gets caught himself--a small satisfaction considering
the damage he causes.
It took some time before his sharkship was wearied out, and when at
length he was hauled up on the raft, it was found that he had contrived
to wind several fathoms of the line round his body. From the line
having been kept tight, it was not so cleverly twisted as is often the
case, and a blow on the tail quieted him before he had managed further
to wriggle it round himself after he was out of the water. When the
line was unwound, and the shark stretched out, he was a handsome-looking
fish of a blue lead colour, about four feet long. Harry and David did
not feel disposed to eat any of the shark, but when assured by the old
fisherman that neither he nor any of his ancestors had ever touched
flesh, they got over their reluctance, and as their appetites told them
it was dinner-time, they each took a thin slice with some biscuit. They
agreed that when cooked it would be tolerable food.
After this meal David, having got his line in order, and both their
lines being baited with shark, they commenced fishing. After some time
Harry got a bite.
"A fine fish, I am sure, by the way he tugged," he exclaimed, hauling up
the line.
It came up very easily, though, and instead of the large fish he
expected, a small whiting appeared. Several others were pulled up in
succession. As Harry was hauling in his line after a bite, he felt a
heavy weight suddenly come on it. Still he was able to get it in.
"It is something curious, but what it can be I am sure I don't know," he
exclaimed, hauling away, while David looked eagerly on.
"What a monster!" they cried out both together, when a huge mass, with
what looked like a number of snakes wriggling about round it, was seen
on the surface amidst a circle of dark water.
"That's a squid," remarked old Jefferies. "Some of them are awkward
customers in the water, but he can do you very little harm out of it."
The truth of this last assertion was put to the test when, in spite of
its struggles, the creature was hauled up on the raft, and its long arms
chopped off. It had expected simply to catch a whiting, and had itself
been caught by the hook sticking through the whiting's mouth. It was
very untempting-looking for food, though they might have preferred it to
shark flesh. The whiting, however, supplied them with as much fish as
they could eat raw. Altogether they agreed that they had had a good
evening's sport, and that if they could have forgotten where they were,
and that their friends were anxious about them, they should have enjoyed
themselves amazingly, only that they should have preferred cooked fish
to raw. As night, however, crept on, they began to feel the loneliness
and helplessness of their position. Still, the calm continued, and the
stars shone forth, each spark of light being reflected in the
mirror-like ocean; and Harry made out the polar star, and wished that
there was a good breeze that they might steer by it towards England.
The air was very chilly, but as they had saved several blankets, they
wrapped themselves up, and kept tolerably warm. As they had not got a
lantern or candle, or any means of striking a light, they could do
nothing, and so they chatted away till they both went off to the land of
dreams.
"Sleep on, my poor lads," said the old man, guessing by their silence
what had happened. "You little think of the danger you are in. If a
gale springs up, how is this small raft to weather it? For myself, I am
worn out, and my time must come in a year or two, or a few months it may
be; but life is fresh and pleasant for the young lads. Well, well, God
is kind and just. He knows what is best for them. His will be done."
The lives of most men are metaphorically varied by storms and calms,
clouds and sunshine, and so in reality was the existence of our two
young friends on the raft. The night passed away quietly, and towards
morning the old man, in spite of his intentions to keep watch, fell
asleep. David was the first to rouse up. The sun had not risen, but a
streak of red in the sky showed in what quarter he was about to appear.
David stood up to look around him. He would not call Harry till it was
necessary, for he was sleeping so calmly, with a smile on his
countenance, dreaming of some pleasant scenes at home, probably with his
mother and sister present. As David was thus standing up, holding on to
the mast, he felt a light air fan his cheek. It came from the south.
He turned his eyes in that direction to look for a further sign of the
wished-for breeze. As he did so he observed in the horizon a sail--he
judged a large ship. Directly afterwards another appeared, in a
different part of the horizon. He watched them attentively for some
time. Their sails were filled with wind, and they seemed to be drawing
nearer to each other, and also nearer to the raft. As soon as it struck
David that this was the case, he could no longer resist the temptation
of rousing up his companion. Harry sprang to his feet. Midshipmen do
not rub their eyes and yawn, and groan and growl, before they get up,
especially if they happen to be sleeping on a raft in the chops of the
channel.
"Yes, they are standing this way," he exclaimed. "They are frigates,
and what is more, though one is English, I doubt by the cut of the sails
whether the other is."
"At all events we shall have a good chance of being picked up," said
David.
"I hope so; but if an idea which has struck me is correct, they will
have too much to do to look after each other to take any notice of us,"
observed the midshipman.
"What do you mean?" asked David.
"That one is English and the other French, and if so, it is not likely
that, having come in sight of each other, they will part without
exchanging shots," remarked Harry.
"Unless the Frenchman runs away," said David.
"No fear of that. The monsieurs are brave fellows, though we can lick
them, and it is not often they show the white feather," remarked Harry.
"I really think that I am right. They look to me like two frigates, and
one I am sure is French. We'll rouse up the old man, and hear what he
has to say about the matter. He'll not thank us for letting him sleep
on."
"The old man is awake," said Jefferies, sitting up and gazing in the
direction indicated by the boys, under his open hand. For some time he
was silent. "Yes, there's little doubt about the matter," he said at
length. "They are frigates, and one is English; the other is a
foreigner, but whether Spaniard, Dutchman, or French, is more than I can
say. If they are going to fight, as you think, we can't help it,
neither can we make them sail near enough to see us, and pick us up; but
I'll tell you what we can do, young gentlemen, we can lift up our voices
in prayer to God to thank Him for His favours, and to ask Him for His
protection."
All three knelt down, and lifted up their voices to God in prayer, with
a heartiness which might be sought for in vain within the lofty walls of
many a proud building. Such is the spiritual worship in which God the
Spirit alone has pleasure. The party on that wave-tossed raft rose from
their knees greatly refreshed in spirit, and sat down to enjoy their
morning meal with hearts grateful that they had food sufficient to
sustain life. Soon after, the sun rose, as it were with a spring out of
his ocean bed, and shed his light across the expanse of waters on the
sails of the approaching ships, which seemed to have drawn suddenly
near, so clear and defined did their forms become. Harry watched with
even greater eagerness than before one of the ships, which he declared
was, he believed, that to which he belonged. David was rather inclined
to laugh at the notion, as he considered that it was impossible Harry
should be able to know his own ship at so great a distance off. There
seemed to be no doubt that both were frigates--of that the old man
expressed himself sure; that they were not both English he thought very
likely. As to the other point, it was, if correct, a guess of Harry's.
They continued to draw nearer and nearer to each other, and as they
approached the raft at the same time, the breeze which filled their
sails reached her.
"Shall we hoist our sails, and stand for the shore as before?" asked
David.
"We should miss the chance of being picked up if we did so," answered
Harry. "Besides, I should not like to run away without knowing after
all whether the ships would fight, and who was the conqueror."
"Not much chance of our getting out of sight before they begin, for they
are already not far off gun-shot of each other," observed the old man,
who again raised himself to look out, but sunk down once more to his
seat in the centre of the raft.
The two boys, however, stood up, holding on by the mast, in spite of the
increasing rocking of the raft, watching eagerly the movements of the
two frigates--for frigates there was no doubt they both were.
"Up go the colours!" exclaimed Harry, with a shout. "Hurrah! There's
the glorious old flag of England, and the other is French--there's no
doubt about it. Then there'll be a fight. Hurrah! I wish I was aboard
the old ship; I'm sure it's her. Couldn't we manage it even now? Pull
the raft up to her. I wish that she would see us and pick us up. Oh
dear! how provoking! I'd give anything to be on board!" Such were the
exclamations to which the young midshipman gave utterance, as he stood
watching the ships. "The old ship has tacked, she is standing away from
us! The Frenchman is about also. They'll be away. We shall not see
any of the fighting after all."
"We shall be less likely to suffer from their shots, and for that we may
be grateful," observed the old man.
The midshipman, so eager was he, scarcely listened to what was said.
The frigates were manoeuvring, each endeavouring to gain the
weather-gauge before commencing the action, which it was very evident
would take place. There appeared to be no lack of a disposition to
fight on either side, for they both took in their lighter sails, and
finally hauled up their courses. Now the English frigate wore round,
her example being followed by the Frenchman, both running back towards
the raft, which it seemed that the former would pass by, or even run
over, when suddenly she tacked, and standing close to a wind towards the
French frigate, fired a broadside into her quarter, while the latter was
in stays. The effect of the broadside must have been severe, for it was
some time before she actually got about, leaving to the English frigate
the advantage of the weather-gauge, which had been the object of all the
previous manoeuvres. For some time the two ships ran on alongside of
each other, rapidly exchanging shots, without any great apparent damage
to the masts or rigging. They were so placed that many of the shots
which missed came flying towards the raft, but providentially she was
too far off for them to reach her. Once more the after-yards of the
French ship being shot away, she kept off the wind, and, followed by her
antagonist, stood towards the raft, still keeping up a hot fire at her.
In a short time the damage was repaired, and once more the French ship
hauling her wind, the two stood on together close-hauled. It was
evident, from the rapid way in which the French frigate's damages had
been repaired, that she was well manned, and that the result was by no
means so certain as Harry had at first anticipated. The firing had had
the effect, it appeared, of lessening the little wind there had
previously been. The two frigates, therefore, moved but slowly, and
consequently kept within sight of those on the raft. Harry was almost
too eager to speak. David now and then made a few remarks. More than
an hour had passed away since the commencement of the action, and as yet
there was no visible advantage gained by either party. Suddenly Harry
gave a cry of anger and annoyance, in which David joined him. The old
man looked up. There was cause for it. The flag of England was seen to
drop from the masthead of the frigate. Could it be that she had struck?
The firing continued as furious as ever. No, it was impossible!
"See! see! there's another flying out!" exclaimed the midshipman,
exultingly. "All right, some fine fellow has climbed up and nailed it
there. Only the halliards were shot away. My captain would go down
sooner than strike; I know that."
The loud reports of the guns came succeeding each other rapidly over the
calm ocean. Now a loud crash, then a broadside was fired by both
parties at once, the sound of the different guns blending into one; now
a perfect silence, and then again single shots, and after a cessation
another broadside. At length the combatants scarcely moved, and became
enshrouded in a dense cloud of smoke, which nearly concealed them from
view. The firing was more furious than ever. They were yard-arm to
yard-arm, discharging their broadsides into each other. A light breeze
played over the water--the ships emerged from the cloud of smoke. The
English frigate had lost her mizen-mast, and its wreck lay over her
quarter.
Harry groaned, but directly afterwards he shouted, "They'll not give in,
though--they'll not give in, I am sure they won't."