Hassall had left me his telescope. I could see the people on board the
wreck stretching out their hands towards the boat as she left the shore
on her errand of mercy. Mason every now and then asked for the glass
and looked towards the wreck. He seemed more and more convinced that
the lady on board was his wife. Yet could he do nothing? Yes, he
could. Though he could not exert his body I saw that he was doing all
that man in his utmost extremity can do. His lips were moving, his head
was bent forward, his eyes glancing at times at the boat and the ship,
his hands were clasped tightly in prayer, forgetful of the crowds
surrounding him. The boat, impelled by lusty strokes, darted on. She
reached the wreck. The lady was lifted in. No one seemed inclined to
follow. The danger was fearful. Not before, since she struck, had one
of the huge rollers failed at much shorter intervals to dash over and
over the ship. Should one of them overtake the boat her fate would be
sealed. On came the boat towards the beach. A number of seamen rushed
down into the surf to receive her and haul her up as soon as she should
touch the sand. The excitement among the crowd was tremendous. Far off
I saw one of these huge billows rushing onwards. If it broke before the
boat could reach the beach it would overwhelm her. The least excited of
the crowd, to all appearance, was my friend Captain Mason. He advanced
slowly towards the spot which it seemed probable the boat would reach,
then he stopped for a moment. On she came, her keel grated on the sand,
sturdy shoulders bore her along upwards, and ere the coming roller burst
she was safe beyond its reach. The lady lay almost overcome in the
stern sheets. Mason uttered his wife's name, she looked up, and in
another moment she was placed in his arms. A communication was
afterwards established between the wreck and the shore, and most of the
crew landed before the gale again came down with redoubled fury. By the
morning scarce a vestige of the ship remained. I had the pleasure of
seeing Mrs Mason completely recovered two days afterwards, and thankful
for her providential escape.
My brother William got leave of absence for three or four days, and he
was anxious to spend the time in a cruise along the coast, and to get me
to accompany him. I had wound up my mercantile business at the place,
but as the _Barbara_ would be detained a few days longer to complete her
repairs, in a weak moment I consented to his proposal, as if we had not
enough knocking about on salt water in the pursuit of our professional
duties. It is difficult to put old heads on young shoulders. We did
not remember that it was still the stormy season, and that the natives
might not be so inclined to be civil to us, their late conquerors,
coming in a half-decked boat with fowling-pieces, as they would had we
appeared under the protection of the frigate's guns.
We agreed that it would be as well to have companions. I asked
O'Carroll, who was very ready to come, and William brought a friend,
whom he introduced as "My messmate, Toby Trundle." His name was a
curious one--at first I did not suppose that it was anything but a
nickname--and he himself was one of the oddest little fellows I ever
met. From the first glance I had of him, I fancied that he was rather a
young companion for my brother, but a second look showed me that he was
fully his age. We had hired a craft, a schooner-rigged, half-decked
boat, about five-and-twenty feet long, with a well aft, in which we
could sit comfortably enough. She was not a bad boat for smooth water,
but if caught in a heavy sea, very likely to drown all on board.
Our crew consisted of a Frenchman, Paul Jacotot, the owner of the
_Dore_, as our craft was called, his son Auguste, a boy of thirteen, and
Jack Nobs, a boy I brought from the _Barbara_. The Frenchman was to act
as pilot and cook. The boys were to scrape the potatoes--or rather
prepare the yams, for we had none of the former root--and tend the
head-sheets. A boatswain's mate, Sam Kelson, who had been in hospital,
had been allowed to accompany the midshipmen before returning on board.
The two midshipmen were to act as officers. O'Carroll, whom they did
not know was a sailor, and I, were to be passengers, and the rest of the
party were rated as crew. We had laid in all sorts of provisions, an
ample supply for the few days we were to be away. Port Louis, it must
be remembered, is on the north side of the island, and we had agreed to
make our cruise to the eastward, where there are some small islands--
Gunners Coin and Flat Island. If the wind should prove favourable we
hoped to circumnavigate the island. With a fair breeze off the land,
and Le Pouce seen standing up astern beyond the town, we sailed out of
the harbour, the weather being as fine as heart could desire. William
and Toby Trundle took it by turns to steer, Jacotot pointing out the
dangers to be avoided, for we kept close in shore for the sake of the
scenery. Toby Trundle sat aft steering, looking, in a broad-brimmed
straw hat, a white jacket and trowsers, contrasting with his sunburnt
complexion, more like a monkey than a midshipman. Jacotot, when not
engaged in any culinary matter below, was jabbering away at a rapid rate
to us, if we would listen; if not, he was addressing his son, whom he
kept constantly on the move, now scolding, now praising with terms of
tender endearment.
We enjoyed ourselves, and lunched and dined with great contentment,
voting Jacotot a first-rate _chef_, which he undoubtedly was. He was,
however, a better cook than seaman we before long discovered.
"The next prize we take I hope that we shall find some cooks on board;
we must secure one for our mess," observed Toby, helping himself to one
of the dishes Jacotot had sent aft. I had not been long on board before
I found out, what seemed to have escaped the midshipmen's observation
when they hired the boat, that the rigging was sadly rotten, and that
she herself was in a somewhat leaky condition. They, however, only
laughed at the leaking. "It will keep the boat sweet, and give Jack
Nobs and Auguste something to do," observed Master Trundle, cocking his
eye at me. Notwithstanding this, we stood on, the breeze shifting
conveniently in our favour till nightfall, when we put into a small
harbour, the entrance to which our pilot for a wonder knew. The next
day we continued our course, landing in a bay, up which we ran to have a
look at the country, and to get some goat's milk and fruit. We found a
small farm, the only white people being an old-fashioned Frenchman, with
a somewhat dingy wife, and two grown-up daughters. All the rest of the
people were either brown Orientals or black Africans. The old Frenchman
was very civil, merely shrugged his shoulders when he saw our flag, and
observed that it was the fortune of war, and that, as we were the most
numerous, France had lost no honour, though she lost the dependency. He
supplied us for a trifle with a bottle of goat's milk, and as many
melons, pines, and mangoes as we could manage to eat. He politely
assisted in taking them down to the boat. As he did so he looked round
the horizon seaward, and up at the sky. "Messieurs will do well to
remain at anchor for a few hours longer," he observed. "We are going to
have a change of weather. It may be slight, or it may be very great,
and you will be more content on shore than at sea." We thanked him for
his advice, but the midshipmen asserting that if we stopped they might
not be able to rejoin their ship at the right time, it was disregarded.
On standing out again, however, we saw that the hope of getting round
the island was vain, and that our surest course would be to return by
the way we had come. The weather soon changed; ugly clouds collected
and came sweeping up from the west and south, though as yet but little
wind filled our sails.
"I am afraid that we are going to have a storm," I observed.
"Oh, no fear; I don't think that there will be anything in it," answered
Toby Trundle.
"I think that there'll be a great deal in it, and I would advise you
gentlemen to make the best of your way back to the bay we have just
left," said O'Carroll.
The midshipmen looked at him as much as to say, What do you know about
the matter? Jacotot was too busy cooking an omelette to attend to the
weather, or he should have warned us. The question was settled by a
sudden gust which came off the land, and laid the boat on her beam-ends.
I thought we were going to capsize, and so we should, but crack away
went both our masts, and the boat righted, one-third full of water. We
all looked at each other for a moment aghast. It was a mercy that no
one was washed overboard. A second and stronger gust followed the
first, and on drove the boat helplessly before it. "You'll pump and
bale out the water, and get on board the wreck of the masts," said
O'Carroll, quietly.
We followed his advice as best we could. Jacotot, who was attending to
his little stove below when the squall struck us, popped up his head
with his white nightcap on, and his countenance so ludicrously
expressive of dismay that, in spite of the danger we were in, Trundle
burst into a fit of laughter. The Frenchman had not time to get out
before the vessel righted. He now emerged completely, and frantically
seizing his cap, tore it off his head and threw it into the boiling
water. He then joined in hauling on board the wreck of the rigging.
"If we are to save our lives we must forthwith rig a jury-mast, so as to
keep the boat before the gale," observed O'Carroll.
With the aid of a wood-axe we knocked out the stump of the foremast, and
making a fresh heel to the broken spar, managed, in spite of the rolling
of the boat, to slip it into its place. This was done not a moment too
soon. The wind increased so rapidly, and blew with such fearful
violence, that we should have been unable to accomplish the task, though
as yet there was not much sea.
O'Carroll showed that he was a man for an emergency. "This will be more
than a gale," he observed; "it will be a regular hurricane! we may
expect that. But still, if we manage properly, we may save our lives."
Close-reefing the foresail, we got it ready to hoist as a square sail;
the rest of the spars we lashed fore and aft on either side, while we
cut up the mainsail and raised the gunwale a foot or more all round to
help keep out the water. We also, as far as we could, covered in the
after-part of the little craft. While we were thus engaged the boys
were pumping and baling. This task was scarcely accomplished before the
wind had blown us helplessly so far off the land that we became exposed
to the full violence of the sea, which had rapidly risen. The water was
leaping on every side tumultuously--the foam flying in thick masses off
it--each sea, as it rose high above our heads, threatening to overwhelm
us.
We gazed wistfully at the land which we had so unwisely left, but we had
no power of returning there. Our only prospect of passing amidst the
heavy seas now rolling around us was to hoist our sail and scud before
the wind.
O'Carroll now took the helm. "I have had more experience in these seas
than you, young gentlemen, and the slightest want of care may send such
a craft as this to the bottom!" he observed.
Without a word, they set to work to pump and bale. Even Trundle grew
serious. Jacotot every now and then stopped pumping or baling, or
whatever he was about, and pulled his hair, and made a hideous face,
scolded Auguste, telling him to _depechez vites_, and then set to work
himself harder than ever. The English seamen worked away without saying
a word beyond what was absolutely necessary. Jack Nobs behaved very
well, but cried in sympathy when Auguste was scolded. The latter always
blubbered on till his father ceased speaking. I could not help
remarking what I have described, notwithstanding the fearful danger we
were running. The sky was of an almost inky hue, while the sea was of
the colour of lead, frosted over with the driving spray torn off from
the summits of the tossing seas by the fury of the wind. Our stump of a
mast, as well as our sail, had been well secured, though I dreaded every
instant to see the ring-bolts, to which the ropes had been made fast,
dragged out of the sides, and the rotten boat torn to pieces.
Thus on we flew, right into the Indian Ocean, though in what direction
we could only guess, for our compass, like everything belonging to the
craft, was defective. Intending only to make a coasting trip, we had no
chart, except one of the island from which we were now being driven
rapidly away. To be in a gale of wind on board a stout ship in the open
sea, is a fine thing once in one's life, but to have to sit in a rotten
boat, with a hurricane driving her, one knows not where, across the
ocean, is a very different matter. Our only prospect of saving our
lives, humanly speaking, was to keep the boat dead before the wind; a
moment's careless steering might have caused our destruction.
We were all so busy in pumping or baling that we had no time to watch
each other's countenances, or we might have seen alarm and anxiety
depicted on them as the rising seas came following up astern,
threatening to engulf us. I felt for the young brother who was with me,
so lighthearted and merry, and yet so little prepared for the eternity
into which any moment we might be plunged. After fervent inward prayer,
my own mind was comforted, so much so that I was able to speak earnest
words, not only to my young brother, but to the others. Trundle and
Jack looked very serious, but rather bewildered, as if they could not
comprehend what was said.
Such is, I fear, too often the case under such circumstances. I
remembered how, a few days before, I had seen Mason praying at a time of
the utmost extremity, and I urged my companions to pray for themselves.
Jacotot was the only person who seemed averse to listen to the word of
truth. Though he had raged and pulled his hair with grief at the injury
done to his vessel, he could not bring himself to care for anything
beyond the passing moment. But while the rest grew calm and resigned,
he became more and more agitated and alarmed. In each sea which rolled
up after us in the distance he saw the messenger which was to summon him
to destruction. Poor little Auguste could only cry with fear of the
undefined. He had never been taught to believe in anything, and thus he
could not even believe in the reality of death till he was in its grasp.
Under the circumstances in which we were placed, people can talk but
little, though the thoughts crowd through the mind with frightful
rapidity. Unless when occupied, we for most of the time sat silent,
watching the ocean. Night was coming on, and the fury of the tempest
had in no way decreased. It was difficult to steer in the daytime--it
was doubly difficult and dangerous at night. After O'Carroll had been
steering for some time, Trundle begged that he might again take the
helm.
"Trust me," he said, "I have been in a gale of wind in an open boat
before now, and know how to steer carefully."
"But you've not steered in a hurricane in the Indian seas, Mr Trundle,"
answered O'Carroll. "Any moment the wind may shift round, and if we
were to be taken aback, it would be all over with us. As long as I can
keep my eyes open I'll stay where I am, if you please." And O'Carroll
was as good as his word; hour after hour he sat there, as we rushed on
up and down the watery hills through the pitchy darkness--it was indeed
a long, long night. Though we had eaten nothing since the hurricane
came on, we were all of us rather weary than hungry. As for sleepiness,
that was very far from any one. When compelled to rest, we could employ
our thoughts in little else than wishing for daylight, and hoping that
the storm would soon cease. It was a relief to be called on to pump or
bale, for the increasing leaks required three of us at a time to be
actively engaged in both operations. But I am wrong in saying that I
could think of nothing except my own fearful peril. Frequently I
thought of my dear mother and other loved ones at home. The thought
gave me comfort and courage, and cheered me up through the horrors of
the night. Daylight came at last, and revealed the tumultuous ocean on
every side, but not a speck of land was visible. Trundle was the first
to exclaim that he was hungry; but to light a fire was almost
impossible, and even Jacotot could not have cooked by it had it been
lighted. We managed, however, to serve out some bread and the old
Frenchman's fruit to all hands, and then we had to turn to and clear the
craft of water, which was finding its way in through every seam. It
seemed scarcely possible that she could float much longer, should the
hurricane continue, with the violent working to which we were exposed.
Had we been stationary, the tempest would have passed over us; but
driven along with it, we had for a much longer time to endure its fury.
It seemed, indeed, surprising that the boat should have floated so long.
As far as we depended, indeed, on our own exertions, the most careful
steering could alone have saved us. We had been longing for daylight;
now that it had come, the dangers of our condition appeared more
evident, and we almost wished again for night. We could not calculate,
either, in what direction we were being driven, but we feared it might
be where rocks and coral banks and islets abound, and that at any moment
we might be hurled on one of them. O'Carroll still sat at his post. I
asked if he did not feel tired. "Maybe, but till the gale is over, here
I'll stick!" he answered. "And sure it's as pretty a sample of a
hurricane as any of you'll be after wishing to see for many a day to
come."
At length, towards noon, the wind began to fall, and in a very short
time, though it still blew hard, and the sea ran almost as high as
before, and was consequently as dangerous, it was evident that the
hurricane was over. Our hopes revived. Still, we were obliged to run
on before the wind; and to avoid the danger of being pooped by the
quickly-following sea, we had to hoist more of our sail: indeed, we now
dreaded not having wind enough to avoid the sea. Thus passed the day,
and before nightfall we were rolling on a tolerably smooth swell with a
moderate breeze. Still we had to exert ourselves as before to keep the
boat afloat. The moment, however, that one of us was relieved at the
pump or baling bucket, he dropped off to sleep. I was even afraid, at
first, that we should all go to sleep together. Nothing, indeed, for
some hours could rouse up the two boys. My young brother and Trundle
were, however, after a short snooze, as lively as ever, and as merry
too. Midshipmen-like, they did not seem to trouble themselves about the
future. I, however, still felt very anxious about it. The Southern
Cross and many another bright constellation not long familiar to my eyes
were shining forth in the clear sky. Had we known our position, even
though we had no compass, we might have shaped a course for the
Mauritius. We calculated that we had been driven two hundred miles away
from it in the direction of the equator. Should we steer south we were
as likely to miss as to find it. We proposed, therefore, to steer to
the west, knowing that we must thus reach some part of the coast of
Madagascar, where the English had at that time a fort and a garrison.
"But we must have our craft rigged before we talk of the course we'll
steer," observed O'Carroll, who at that moment awoke from a long sleep.
With the morning light we set to work to fit a mainmast, and to rig the
boat as best we could. There was a light breeze, but as it was from the
west we lay without any canvas set.
While all hands were busily employed fitting the rigging, I looked up
and saw a brig under all sail approaching us at no great distance.
Beyond her was another vessel, a ship--I pointed her out. O'Carroll
took the telescope.
"She's an English vessel chased by an enemy," he observed. "She'll not
stop to help us, so the closer we lie the better." He kept after this
continually taking up the glass for some time, when suddenly he
exclaimed, "As I'm an Irishman, it's that villain La Roche again!"
His countenance fell as he spoke. He handed me the glass--I took a
steady look at the ship, and had little doubt that it was our old
antagonist the _Mignonne_ in sight.