"Cut away the masts--the shrouds first! Be smart, my men!" cried a
voice.
"Who dares give that order?" shrieked out the captain; "she'll be over
this in no time."
"I dare obey it!" exclaimed one of the seamen. "Come, lads, it's the
best chance of saving our lives."
The men listened to the advice of their messmate, and, knowing where to
find the axes, quickly severed the shrouds of the mizen-mast, and some
attacked it, while others went to the mainmast, in spite of the mad
cries of the captain to "hold fast." Their object was thus to force the
ship over the reef--if it was a reef we were on--head first, or closer
to the shore if we were on an island. The seas came thundering against
our sides, often dashing over the decks, so that with difficulty any of
us could save ourselves from being carried away by them. Several poor
people were thus swept away soon after the ship struck, and their
despairing shrieks rang in our ears as they were borne away or hurled on
the rocks amid the foaming breakers. We could see nothing beyond the
ship except the troubled waters. Our chief hope rested on her not being
wedged in the rocks. Now she lifted and drove on her bottom, grinding
over the coral; now down she came again, and rocked to and fro in the
surges. Directly the after masts were cleared away, her head paid off,
and we drove on stern first. It was pitiable to hear the cries which
rose from the terrorstricken passengers, but as we could as yet give
them no comfort, I refrained from going below. William and Trundle,
O'Carroll and I, stood together holding on to the stump of the mainmast;
the Frenchman and his son had gone below at the commencement of the
gale. I hoped that they were still there. The ship continued
alternately grinding and bumping along, but still evidently progressing
over the reef. She must have been new and well built, or she would have
gone to pieces with the treatment she was receiving. Our anxiety was
thus prolonged, for it was impossible to say, supposing the ship should
drive over the reef, whether we should find land, and if not whether she
would float. It seemed as if each blow she received must be knocking a
hole through her planks. Oh! how we longed for daylight, at all events
to see and face the dangers which beset us! In the dark we could do
nothing but hold on for our lives and pray to be preserved from
destruction.
At length the ship was lifted by a huge wave. On she drove. It seemed
that the next time she came down on the hard rocks it must be to her
destruction. On, on she went; the waters roared and hissed around her.
Instead of the expected catastrophe, suddenly she appeared to be
floating with comparative calmness; she had been forced over the reef,
but the furious wind was still driving her before it.
"We should anchor this instant!" said O'Carroll; but neither the master
nor his mates were on deck to give the necessary orders. "Stand by to
anchor!" cried O'Carroll.
The two midshipmen, with Kelson and several of the crew, hurried to
carry out the order. Some delay occurred in consequence of the
darkness. At length the anchor was let go, but as the ship's stern
swung round it struck heavily on a rock. Again cries of terror came up
from the passengers in the cabins; I therefore, as I could be of no use
on deck, went below in the hopes of tranquillising their minds. They
clung round me as I appeared, entreating to be told the truth. I
assured them that there was no immediate danger, and that, though the
ship had again struck on the rocks, there was so much less sea inside
the reef than what she had already gone through, I hoped she might
continue to hold together. In all probability we were not far off land.
Some, on hearing this, especially those who had been most overcome with
terror, expressed their joy in all sorts of extravagant ways, and seemed
to consider that there was no longer any danger to be apprehended;
others, again, would scarcely credit what I told them, and inquired what
the captain thought on the subject.
"The captain! What does he know about anything?" exclaimed a young man,
who appeared to be superior in education to most of the passengers. "If
the ship is lost, and our lives sacrificed, on him will rest the blame.
Look there!"
He threw open the door of the captain's cabin, where he and the first
mate sat, both far too tipsy to move, yet still trying to pour spirits
down their throats.
"What's that you say?" growled out the captain, with an indistinct
utterance; "I'll have no mutiny aboard this ship."
He endeavoured to rise, but fell forward across the table, upsetting the
bottle and tumblers. The mate was too far gone even to attempt to rise.
He gazed at us with an idiotic glance for a minute or two, then his
head dropped down on the little table at which he was sitting. It must
be understood that all this time the ship was far from quiet; she was
still grinding and striking heavily against the rocks, though the sea
had not sufficient force to lift her over them. I hurried again on
deck; my fear was that the ship would fill with water and drop off the
rocks and sink. After hunting about we found the carpenter, and with
his help sounded the well; already there were six feet of water in the
hold. After waiting a short time we found that the water was
increasing, the pumps must be set to work. Some of the crew said it was
of no use, and refused; others came to our summons; and to help us we
called up all the men passengers, while we set the example by labouring
as hard as we could. Thus the night passed. It was indeed better for
everybody that we had something to do. Dawn came at last. We eagerly
looked out for the prospect which daylight was to reveal, whether we
were to find ourselves amidst reefs just rising from the water, or near
a mere sandbank, or on an inhabited shore. At first we could only see,
as before, the white foam dancing up, then dark rocks and yellow sand,
and beyond it brown hills and a few trees. As the light still further
increased we discovered that the country was in a state of nature; in
vain we looked for traces of inhabitants.
The passengers, hearing that we were close to land, came crowding on
deck, all eager to get on shore. It was, however, no easy matter to do
so. The sea came rushing round the ship, between which and the dry
rocks the distance was considerable, so that anybody attempting to swim
to them would have been swept away. One small boat alone remained, the
rest had been knocked to pieces. In this only two rowers could sit, and
a couple of passengers at the most. As far, however, as we could see on
either side the surf broke too furiously to allow her to land, so that
she could, we feared, be of no use.
At length my brother cried out, "We'll go in her; there is one place
just inside the ship where we can jump on shore with a line. If we can
do that we'll carry a hawser to the rocks, and all the people may land."
The two mids and Kelson agreed to go in the boat, towing a light line.
We watched them anxiously. The water tossed and foamed around them, and
they had hard work to contend with the reflux of the sea. Earnestly I
prayed that they might be protected and succeed, both for their sakes
and ours. A shout of joy and thankfulness burst from the lookers-on as
Kelson leaped on the rock, followed by the two midshipmen, who instantly
hauled the boat up out of harm's way. A hawser had been prepared, which
they at once hauled on shore and secured. A cradle was next fitted to
it by the seamen, under O'Carroll's directions. It was a question who
was to go forth to prove it. At that moment Jacotot made his appearance
on deck. He was told that he must go on shore. He was secured
forthwith to the cradle. In vain he struggled and protested: he was
quickly drawn across. His son and Jack followed. Two men then went to
assist in hauling the passengers across. They were placed, one after
the other, in the cradle and landed in safety. I was thankful when they
were all on shore. There they stood, grouped together, gazing
helplessly at the ship, not knowing what to do. There was no one to
guide them. Those wretches, the master and his mate, still remained
utterly helpless in the cabin. Half the crew of the ship had been lost,
and the young mate, who might have exercised some authority. From what
I saw of the remainder of the crew I was afraid that they were mostly a
very bad set. I dreaded their breaking into the spirit-room--which
seamen often do under such circumstances. To prevent this it was
necessary to keep them amply employed; we urged them, therefore, to land
all the provisions that could be got out of the hold.
To expedite this proceeding we got another hawser carried on shore. Our
lives might depend on the amount of provisions we could save. All day
we worked on, till towards evening the water had risen so much in the
hold that nothing more could be got out. The heat was intense, but so
important was the work that we scarcely stopped even to take food. No
one had thought all this time of the captain and mate, the real cause of
their misfortunes. Suddenly I recollected that they had been left in a
side-cabin asleep. I hurried down. I was but just in time; the water
was up to their heads, and in another minute would have washed over
their faces and drowned them as they lay sleeping off their debauch. I
shouted out their names, and called them to come on deck. They started
up, their countenances exhibiting their horror and alarm, as they
believed that the ship was sinking beneath them. Out into the water
they tumbled. The mate slipped, and caught hold of the captain to save
himself. Over they went, struggling together. I fancy that they
thought themselves overboard; right under the water they dragged each
other, once more to get their heads out, spluttering and shouting, and
swearing most fearfully. At last, fearing that they might after all be
drowned, I seized the mate, who was the smaller man of the two, and
dragged him on deck, calling out to O'Carroll to assist in getting up
the captain. He came to my assistance, and we hauled both the men on
deck. Their sea bath and the struggle had brought them to their senses;
but when, after staring around for some time, they saw that the ship was
a hopeless wreck, cast away on an apparently barren island, they very
nearly lost them again. To find fault with them at such a moment would
have been folly. "Come, I advise you to go on shore, for very likely
the ship will go to pieces during the night, if the wind rise again," I
said quietly. They were far from disposed to thank me for my advice,
though, after looking about for a few minutes, they took it, and were
hauled on shore. After collecting everything of value to be found in
the cabin, compass, charts, and some nautical books, I followed.
O'Carroll was the last man to leave the ship. William and his messmate
had been very active on shore, and got a tent rigged for the poor women
and children, and some food cooked for them by Jacotot.
No sooner was a fire lighted than the Frenchman was himself again,
hurrying about in search of the utensils necessary for his calling. He
had cooked a capital supper for them, and he now offered to cook one for
us. On collecting all the sails we had landed, we were able to form a
shelter for ourselves, as well as for the seamen; and at length, weary
with our exertions, we lay down to rest. The captain and mate were very
silent, and I hoped ashamed of themselves. During the night there was a
good deal of wind and sea. I was thankful that we were on shore, and
when I looked out I almost expected to find that the ship had gone to
pieces. There, however, she was, still holding fast together. Seeing
this, the captain declared that he would get her off, and that if trees
could be found in the island suitable for new spars, he could proceed on
his voyage.
"If he knew of the bumping she got he wouldn't say so," observed
O'Carroll. "That ship will never float again, and, strong as she is,
another gale such as we had last night will break her to pieces."
As there was nothing more to be done, we started to explore the island.
It seemed to be the chief of a group of rocky islets, being about six
miles long and half as broad. Though we made diligent search as we
walked on, we could find no water. A few small casks of the precious
liquid had been landed, but sufficient only for another day or two.
"And what shall we do when that is gone?" asked William. It was a
serious question.
"We must trust in God, for vain is the help of man in such a case," I
answered; "at all events, we must use what we have got with the greatest
economy."
On returning to the camp and reporting our want of success in finding
water, what was our dismay to find that every drop in the casks had been
consumed! All the poor people could say was that they were so thirsty,
and the children were so constantly crying out for water, that they
could not help giving it to them. We were ourselves already suffering
greatly from thirst after our ramble, yet not a drop of water did we
obtain. Our lips were parched, our tongues dry: without water we could
not eat, we loathed food, supperless we lay down to sleep. All night
long I was dreaming of sparkling fountains and running brooks. As soon
as it was daylight we again set out with a spade and pickaxe, prepared,
if we could find no running stream, to dig wherever verdure showed that
moisture was at hand. We walked on and on, searching in every direction
round the shore, but no sign of a stream emptying itself into the sea
could we discover, and when we dug we soon met the hard rock. Faint and
weary we turned to the camp. We found a fire blazing, and Jacotot with
several men standing round it: two were working a rough pair of bellows,
others hammers and tongs. All were employed under his directions, while
he was engaged in riveting a pipe into a large copper vessel.
"Why you trouble to look for water?" he asked. "There is salt water,
there is wood to make fire, then we have plenty of fresh water. We make
steam, steam come out and leave the salt in de kettle, and then find a
cold piece of iron and drop, drop, down into this tub all fresh and good
for drink." He told us that he had seen a French doctor obtain fresh
water from salt in that manner.
"Most men have their merits, if we could but discover them and put them
in their right places," I thought to myself. "We were inclined to laugh
at Jacotot, but if he can produce fresh water out of salt, he may be the
means of saving all our lives."
We watched him anxiously, all eager to help him, but he would not be
hurried. At length the machine was finished, and we hastened to fill it
with salt water. It was placed on the fire, and slowly the drops of
fresh water were distilled from it. How eagerly were they sought for by
the poor creatures who stood round with lack-lustre eyes and parched
lips. Jacotot insisted that the youngest should be served first. I
think he was influenced by the wish to get his boy Auguste an early
draught. That was but natural. Some of the crew grumbled, and so did
the captain and mate, who were, in consequence of their late debauch,
suffering fearfully from thirst; but O'Carroll, William, Trundle,
Kelson, and two or three of the passengers formed a body-guard round the
Frenchman, to enable him to do as he thought right. Only half a little
liqueur glass of the precious fluid was served out to each person. It
was pleasant to see the eyes of the poor children brighten as the pure
water touched their lips. The younger ones, however, directly their
allowance was gone, cried out for more. Several times we had to stop
till more water was distilled.
While we were thus engaged, the wind had again got up, and the sea,
dashing over the reef, began to burst with violence against the shore.
The effect produced on the wreck was soon apparent. The remaining upper
works began to give way. As the sea rolled in with increasing violence,
plank after plank was torn off, then larger portions were wrenched from
the hull, the deck burst up, and was soon dashed into pieces against the
rocks. As soon as we had swallowed enough water somewhat to slake our
burning thirst, we hastened to the beach to save what we could from the
wreck. We hauled on shore all the planks and timber we could get hold
of, with the vague idea that we might be able to build a raft of some
sort, in which to make our escape. At all events the wood would be
useful to construct huts for the women, or to burn. As darkness set in,
a large portion of the wreck had disappeared, and even the captain was
convinced that her keel would never leave its present position, except
to be cast up in fragments on the rocks. He and the mate had been very
quiet and low-spirited. They were craving for their accustomed
stimulants, and several times I heard them grumbling at us for not
having landed any liquor for them. Neither they nor the larger portion
of their crew had exerted themselves in the slightest degree to assist
us in our labours. Most of them sauntered along the beach with their
hands in their pockets, or sat coolly watching us. Fatigued with our
exertions, we at last returned to the camp, where Jacotot was able to
give us a glass of water, and we then, thankful even for that small
supply, lay down to rest.
It was not till late that any of us awoke; we then found that the
captain and mate, and several of their men, had withdrawn themselves to
a distance from the camp. We were glad to be rid of their company,
though why they had gone away so suddenly we could not tell. We could
not help suspecting, however, that they had done so with the intention
of hatching mischief. When I speak of _we_, I mean our party from the
_Dore_, for we of necessity kept very much together. I have not
particularly described the emigrants, for there was nothing very
remarkable about them. Two or three were intelligent, enterprising men,
who had made themselves acquainted with the character of the country to
which they were going, and had tolerably definite plans for the
employment of their capitals. The rest had mostly failed in England,
and were rather driven by want into exile than attracted by the
advantages the new colony had to offer. They were all married men with
families, and this made them associate with each other for mutual
assistance. The steerage passengers were generally small tradesmen, and
had emigrated for much the same reason as the others. Three gentlemen
of the first-class, who were bachelors, had begged leave to join our
mess. One of them had already been in New South Wales, and was able to
give us much interesting information about it. So much taken was I,
indeed, with what I heard, that I resolved, should I be unable to find
the _Barbara_, to visit the colony before returning home. We thus, as I
have explained, formed three chief messes. We were not as yet either
very badly off. We had saved provisions from the wreck sufficient, with
economy, to last us a couple of months or more; and now that we could
obtain fresh water, though but in small quantities, we were not afraid
of dying of thirst. We were in hopes, too, of finding turtles and
turtles' eggs, and perhaps wild fowl, and we might also catch fish to
add to our stock of provisions. Could we only find water, and some sort
of vegetables, we might be able, we thought, to support existence for
any length of time; and as far, indeed, as we could judge we might not
have an opportunity of escaping from the island for months, or it might
be for years. This was not, however, a subject pleasant to contemplate.
I thought of my merchandise, William of his promotion, and of the
opportunities he might lose of distinguishing himself, while Jacotot,
though not idle, was unable to make money where he was. Toby Trundle,
however, took things very easily. He laughed and joked as much as ever,
and declared that he never was more jolly in his life. He used to say
the same thing in the midshipmen's berth; he had said it on board the
boat, and I believe he would have said it under nearly any circumstances
in which he could have been placed. The poor emigrants, on the
contrary, were very far from content. Most of them had lost all they
possessed in the world, and knew that, should they even ultimately
arrive at their destination, they must land as beggars, dependent on the
bounty of others. They were therefore naturally very loud in their
complaints of the captain and his mate, while they were continually
bewailing their own hard lot. Those persons had, as I observed, removed
themselves to a distance from the rest of our shipwrecked band.
We had retired to tents for the night, and had lain down to sleep, when
after some time I was awoke by sounds of shouting and laughter, followed
by shrieks and cries, which seemed to come up from the beach where the
captain and his associates had taken up their quarters. The noises
increased, and O'Carroll awoke. He got up, and we went together to the
entrance of our tent. The night was very calm. The stars shone forth
from the dark sky with a brilliancy I have never seen surpassed; even
the restless sea was quiet, and met the shore with an almost noiseless
kiss; all nature seemed tranquil and at rest. A shot was heard, and
then another, and another, followed by shouts and execrations. "There
will be bloodshed among those madmen," exclaimed O'Carroll. "They have
got hold of some liquor unknown to us, and are fighting with each other:
we must try and separate them." Calling my brother and the rest of the
party to come to our assistance, we hurried off in the direction whence
the sounds proceeded.