GREEK PIRATES--A SUSPICIONS STRANGER--MY FIRST FIGHT--DESPERATE
ENCOUNTER--OUR FATE SEALED--THE SINKING VESSEL--THE MATE'S DEATH--WE
SECURE A BOAT--DOWN SHE GOES--OUR PERILOUS VOYAGE--LOSS OF ANOTHER
SHIPMATE--DEATH OF EDWARD SETON--MY PROMISE--A STRONG BREEZE--A GALE
SPRINGS UP--A HEAVY SEA.
Having discharged our cargo at Naples, the captain, finding that we
could get no freight home from thence at the time, determined to go to
Smyrna, where he knew that he could obtain one of dried fruit, figs,
currants, and raisins. We spent ten days there, and on our homeward
voyage, keeping somewhat to the northward of our course, got among the
islands of the Greek Archipelago. At that time a great many of the
petty Greek chiefs, driven by the Turks from their hereditary domains,
had established themselves on any rocky island they could find, with as
many followers as they could collect, and nothing loth, used to carry on
the respectable avocation of pirates. Some possessed only lateen-rigged
craft, or open boats, but others owned fine large vessels, ships and
brigs, strongly armed and manned. Though they attacked any Turkish
vessels wherever they could find them, they were in no respect
particular, if compelled by necessity to look out for other prey, and
the merchantmen of any civilised nation which came in their way had but
a small chance of escape.
I observed some little anxiety on the countenances of the officers, and
a more careful watch than usual was kept on board at night, while in the
day-time the captain or first mate was constantly aloft, and more than
once the course was changed to avoid a strange sail. The winds were
light and baffling, so that we were detained among the islands for some
time. At last we got a fair breeze from the northward, though it was
light, and we were congratulating ourselves that we should have a quick
run to the westward. We had been standing on for a couple of hours or
so, when I saw the master and mates looking out anxiously ahead. I
asked Charley Iffley what it was they saw.
"An ugly-looking big brig, which has a cut they don't like about her,"
was the answer. "When we were out here the last time, we sighted just
such another chap. A hundred or more cut-throat-looking fellows were
dancing on her decks, and we had every expectation that they would lay
us aboard, when a man-of-war hove in sight, and she prudently cut her
stick. The man-of-war made chase, but a Thames barge might as well have
tried to catch a wherry. The pirate was out of sight in no time."
"But if this stranger should prove to be a gentleman of the same
profession, what shall we do, Charley?" I asked.
"Run away if we can, and fight him if he comes up with us," he replied.
I thought he did not seem quite so anxious about fighting as he had been
when we were off the Riff coast. Indeed, from what I could learn,
should the vessel in sight prove to be a Greek pirate, we might find a
struggle with her no joking matter. That she was so, I found the
captain and officers entertained not the slightest doubt. The schooner
was brought on a wind and stood away to the southward, but the brig
immediately afterwards changed her course for the same direction. The
captain on this called the crew aft, and told us that he intended to try
and make his escape, but that if he did not succeed, we must fight for
our lives, for if overcome we should all have our throats cut. Charley
and I, and La Motte, gave a shrill cheer, in which we were joined by two
or three of the other men, but the old hands merely growled out, "Never
fear; no man wants to get his throat cut, so we'll fight." I was
surprised at their want of enthusiasm; but when men have been much
knocked about in the world, and have all their finer feelings blunted,
that, among other sentiments, is completely battered out of them.
When Captain Tooke saw the brig change her course, he hauled the
schooner close on a wind, but the brig instantly hauled her wind also,
and we very soon saw that she was rapidly overhauling us. The truth is,
that English merchantmen of those days were mere tubs compared to those
of foreign nations; and even the _Kite_, though a fast vessel of her
class, was very inferior to the craft of the present day of the same
rig. Thus we saw that there was little chance of escaping a fight
should the stranger prove to be a pirate, unless a man-of-war or large
merchantman, able to help us, might heave in sight.
While we were trying the speed of our heels, every possible preparation
was made for fighting; boarding nettings were triced up; our two guns
were carefully loaded; the small arms were got up and distributed among
the people, who fastened on the cutlasses round their waists and stuck
the pistols in their belts. Charley and I had got hold of a pistol
a-piece, and purposed committing great execution with them, but I was
condemned to help La Motte to hand up powder and shot from below,
greatly to Master Charley's amusement, who looked down and asked how I
liked being a powder-monkey. As I every now and then shoved my head
through the hatchway, I saw that the brig was coming up rapidly after
us. I had been down some little time, when just as I came up and was
looking about me, my ears were saluted with a loud hissing whirl, and I
saw our main gaff shot away at the jaws and come tumbling down on deck.
This made the schooner fall off the wind somewhat.
"Fire, my lads! fire!" shouted Captain Tooke, "and see if we can't repay
them in kind."
Our lee-gun had been run over to the weather side, and both guns were
fired at once, discharged by some of our best hands, old men-of-war's
men. Still, as no cry of satisfaction followed, I suspected that they
had not succeeded in damaging the enemy. A whole broadside from the
Greek now came rattling down upon us. I could not resist giving a look
up on deck. Several of our poor fellows had been knocked over, and lay
writhing in agony. Some were binding up their wounds, and one lay half
hanging over the hatchway shot through the body. Such another iron
shower would speedily clear our decks of every living being. As to
striking our flag, or crying out for mercy, that was out of the
question; we were contending with people who had received none from
their oppressors, and had not learned to show it to others. Those not
required to work the two guns, began blazing away with the muskets, but
in that arm also the pirate was infinitely our superior. Her shot from
another broadside came rushing fiercely over us. This time no one on
deck was hit, but the effects aloft were disastrous. Both our
topsail-yards were wounded, and several braces and much of our standing
rigging shot through. Our people fought as well as any men-of-war's
men, and our captain showed that though he was a rough diamond he was a
brave fellow. A third broadside reduced our rigging to a perfect wreck,
and masts, and spars, and blocks came tumbling down from aloft in
melancholy confusion. All this time the wind had been increasing, and
it now blew a pretty smart breeze. We might have still a chance if we
could knock away some of the enemy's spars, and keep him from boarding
us. Our hull had received no material injury, and if a gale came on we
might weather it out till perhaps some ship might come to our rescue.
Having got up all the powder and shot required, I came on deck. I asked
Charley what he thought of the state of things. He was looking very
pale; his shirt-sleeve was tucked up at the elbow, and there was blood
on his arm, which a musket-ball had just grazed.
"Don't ask me, Will," said he. "What can we do against that big fellow?
We shall all be food for fishes before long, I suppose."
I looked at the brig, which was twice our size and uninjured in rigging,
and was closely approaching us, while I could make out that her decks
were crowded with men in a variety of Eastern costumes, mostly such as I
had seen on board the Greek vessels at Smyrna. By this time it was
blowing fresh, and a good deal of sea had got up. The schooner, having
no canvas aloft to steady her, was pitching and tumbling about in an
awful way. Our fate was sealed. I remembered all the dreadful stories
I had heard, and the atrocities committed by these Greek pirates; but I
had little time for thought. On came the pirate; showers of
musket-balls swept our decks, and round shot came crashing through our
side. In another instant her grappling-irons were thrown aboard, and as
a huge spider catches a miserable fly, so did our big antagonist hold us
struggling and writhing in his grasp.
We had fought as long as we could; but what could we do against such
overwhelming numbers? We did not strike to the villains at all events,
for we had not a man by this time left on his legs to haul down the
flag, even had we wished to do so. The pirates, with fierce shouts,
waiting till the sides of the vessels rolled together, leaped, sword in
hand, on our decks. The captain and mates continued fighting to the
last, as if resolved to sell their lives dearly. Some were driven
overboard, several were knocked down below, and so saved their lives for
the moment, while the greater number were unable to lift hand or foot in
their defence. I was among them. A shot grazed me, I could scarcely
tell where, my whole body was in such agony; but overcome with it I lay
without power of moving. This was fortunate, for had any of us shown
signs of life, the pirates would have despatched as at once. As it was,
they merely shoved us out of the way, while they set to work to get out
the cargo. Though I could not move, my eye was able to follow them, and
from the expeditious way in which they proceeded about their work, they
were evidently well practised in it. Every moment I expected to find my
existence finished by having the point of a sword or a pike run into me.
I suppose after this that I went off into a swoon, for when I again
looked up, the pirates had left the vessel, and I could see the topsails
of their brig, just as they were sheering off. My first impulse was
that of joy to think that I was saved. I tried to rise, and fancied
that I might have strength sufficient to do so; but then I thought it
better to be perfectly still, lest the pirates should see me moving
about, and take it into their heads to fire and perhaps finish me. My
feelings were very dreadful. I knew not how many of my companions might
have escaped. Perhaps I might be soon the only survivor left alone on
the shattered wreck, for the groans of my companions still alive showed
that they were desperately wounded; or perhaps my doom was already
fixed, and my hours were drawing to a close. I could scarcely bear to
hear those sounds of pain, yet I dared not move to render assistance. I
waited for some time, and then I slowly turned round my head, and
ventured to look if the vessel could be seen from where I lay. She was
not visible, so I crawled to a port through which I could see her about
a mile off, standing away to the eastward. I now felt that, provided no
one showed their heads above the bulwarks, we should be safe. A cask of
water stood on the deck for daily use. I crawled to it, and swallowed
some of the precious fluid, which much revived me. I never tasted a
more delicious draught in my life. I took the tin cup, and crawled to
the nearest person who appeared to be alive. It was the captain. He
was groaning heavily, "Here's a cup of water, sir," I said; "it will do
you good. The pirates are off, and I do not think they are coming back
again."
At first he did not seem to understand me; then he took the mug of
water, and drained it to the bottom.
"What, gone, are they?" he at length exclaimed. "Ah, lad, is that you?
Well, what has happened? Oh! I know. Help me up, and we'll see about
it."
I did my best, hurt as I was, to raise him up. In a short time he very
much recovered. Both he and I, it appeared, had been knocked over by
the wind of a round shot, and had been rather stunned than seriously
hurt.
The captain, as he lay on the deck, bound up my wound for me with a
kindness I did not expect from him. As soon as he was somewhat
recovered, he told me to come with him and examine into the state of
affairs. Many of the crew lay stiff and stark on deck--their last fight
over. We carried the water to the few who remained alive, and very
grateful they were for it. Among the killed was the first mate; but
poor Charley I did not see. I observed another man moving forward. I
crawled up to him. He was Edward Seton. I gave him the mug of water.
He thanked me gratefully.
"I'm afraid that I am in a bad way, Weatherhelm," said he; "but see what
you can do for me, and I'll try and get about and help the captain: tell
him."
Under his directions I bound up his wounds as well as I could, and in a
little time he began to crawl about, though it seemed to give him great
pain to do so. On looking into the hold we found that several men were
there. The captain hailed them, and gave the welcome news that the
pirate was off, and that they might venture on deck. As soon as they
heard his voice they sprang up, but looks of horror were on their
countenance.
"It's all over with us, sir," said they. "The villains have bored holes
in the ship's bottom, and the water is rushing in by bucketsful."
I accompanied the captain below. Unhappily he found that what they said
was too true, and at the first appearance of things it looked as if the
schooner could not swim another half hour. On further examination,
however, it appeared that, whatever might have been the intention of the
villains, they had not bored the holes very cleverly. Some of them were
through the timbers, and others were even above the water line, and they
had providentially been prevented from finishing their work by breaking
their auger, the iron of which was sticking in one of the timbers. When
this had occurred they made the attempt to knock a hole through the
ship's side; but they had found the ribs and planking too strong for
their axes, and had been compelled to desist before accomplishing their
purpose. They had, however, effectually destroyed the pumps,--a few
strokes of their axes had done that,--so that we had little hope of
freeing the vessel of water, as it would take long to repair them. Why
they did not set her on fire I do not know. Perhaps because they were
afraid that the blaze might attract the attention of any ship of war
which might be in the neighbourhood, and bring her down upon them. At
all events, they refrained from no tender feeling of love or mercy for
us.
"Don't give in, my lads," cried the captain, after he had examined the
state of affairs. "All who can manage to move, come with me; we may
still have a chance of saving our lives. See if any of you can find an
axe and wood to make plugs to drive into these holes."
The pirates had of course intended to heave overboard everything of the
sort; but fortunately, without loss of time, a hatchet was found under
the windlass forward, where one of the men recollected he had left it,
after chopping wood for firing, and another discovered an axe in the
carpenter's store-room, under a number of things which had been routed
out of the chests by the pirates in their search for money. With these
two tools we set to work, and as soon as a plug was cut, we drove it
into such of the holes as let in the greatest quantity of water. There
was no difficulty in finding them, for the water spouted up in jets in
all directions in the hold.
It must be understood that what was already inside had not yet got to a
level with the sea. Indeed, if it had, we should very soon have gone
down. We succeeded in stopping the greater number, but unfortunately
two or three had been bored low down, and some of the cargo having
washed over them, we could not contrive to reach the places to plug
them. I guessed, when the fact was discovered, that all hopes of
ultimately saving the vessel must be greatly diminished, though what we
had done would enable her to float for some time longer.
I have before been prevented mentioning anything respecting those of my
shipmates who had escaped with their lives. The first person I saw
below was old Cole. He was unhurt, and seemed to take matters as coolly
and quietly as if they were of ordinary occurrence. He had, as I
afterwards discovered, directly he saw the pirate brig running us
aboard, gone below and stowed himself away. I ventured to ask him, on a
subsequent occasion, how it was that he had not remained on deck and
fought on like the rest. "Why, I will tell you, Will," said he; "I have
found out, by a pretty long experience, that if I don't take care of
Number one, no one else will; so, when I saw that nothing more could be
done to beat off the pirates, I thought to myself, there's no use
getting killed for nothing, so I'll just keep in hiding till I see how
things go." La Motte, the Guernsey lad, was unhurt, but we picked up
poor Charley Iffley with an ugly knock on his head, which had stunned
him. He didn't know that his father was killed. We let him perfectly
recover before we told him. I wished to have kept back the knowledge of
this fact from him, but of course as soon as he came on deck he could
not fail to discover it, so La Motte and I broke it to him gently. I
was somewhat shocked to find how little effect it had on him.
"What, father dead, is he? Well, what am I to do then, I wonder?" was
his unfeeling observation.
"And this is the person whom I thought so fine a fellow, and by whom I
was guided rather than by those who loved me best in the world," I
thought to myself. Still, I could not help feeling compassion for my
friend, and I believe he really did feel his father's loss more than his
words would have led me to suppose.
Having done what we could below, the captain called us all on deck to
examine into the state of the boats, and to see if any of them were fit
to carry us to the nearest shore. A glance showed us their condition.
The spars which had fallen from aloft, and the shot of the enemy, had
done them no little damage, and the villainous pirates, before leaving
us, had stove in their sides and hove the oars overboard, to prevent any
of us who might survive from making use of them. I felt my heart sink
within me when I saw this, but none of us gave way to despair. It is
not the habit of British seamen, while a spark of life remains in them,
to do so. The long-boat was in the best condition, but with our yards
gone we could not hoist her out, even had we had all the crew fit for
the work, so that we were obliged to content ourselves with trying to
patch up the jolly-boat, which we might launch over the side.
The carpenter was among the killed, so that had the pirates left us all
his tools, we could not have repaired the boat properly, and the captain
therefore ordered us to set to work to cover her over with tarred
canvas, and to strengthen her with a framework inside. Thus prepared,
there were some hopes that she might be able to float us, provided the
weather did not grow worse.
While the captain and old Cole, with the more experienced hands, were
patching up the boat, he sent La Motte and me to try and find a
spy-glass in the cabin. After some search we discovered one and took it
to him. He watched the pirate brig through it attentively. "Hurra, my
lads, she'll not come back!" he exclaimed. "She's standing under all
sail to the eastward, and soon will be hull down." This announcement
gave us all additional spirits to proceed with our work. La Motte and I
were next sent to get up some mattresses from below on which to put the
wounded men; we also bound up their hurts as well as we could, and kept
handing them round water, for they seemed to suffer more from thirst
than anything else.
My own wound hurt me a good deal, but while I was actively employed for
the good of others, I scarcely thought about it. I found that much
progress was being made with the boat. There was plenty of canvas, and
a cask of Stockholm tar was found. After paying both the boat and a
piece of canvas sufficiently large to cover her over with the tar, the
canvas was passed under her keel and fastened inside the gunwale on
either side. It went, of course, from stem to stern, and the thickly
tarred folds nailed over the bows served somewhat to strengthen them.
In our researches La Motte and I had found a hammer and a pair of
pincers, which were very useful, as they enabled us to draw out the
nails from the other boat with which to fasten on the canvas. As the
boat would require much strengthening inside, a framework of some small
spars we had on board was made to go right round her gunwale, from which
other pieces were nailed down to the seats, and two athwart, inside the
gunwale, to prevent her upper works from being pressed in. Besides
this, some planks were torn from the long-boat, and with them a weather
streak was made to go round the jolly-boat, and this made her better
able to contend with a heavy sea.
When we had performed our first task, the captain sent us with the
second mate to get up such provisions and stores as we might require,
with some small beakers to fill with water. He then came himself to
judge how fast the water was gaining on us, and seeing that the schooner
would swim some time longer, he had another thick coat of tar put on,
and an additional coat of canvas nailed over the boat. It was lucky
this was done, for as the tar had not time to sink into the canvas, I do
not think the first would for any length of time have kept the water
out. We had still much to do, for we had neither oars, spars, nor sails
fitted for the boat. In half an hour more, however, we had fashioned
two pairs of oars, in a very rough way certainly, but such as would
serve in smooth water well enough. We had stepped two masts and fitted
two lugs and a jib. Fortunately the rudder had not been injured, so
that we were saved the trouble of making one. I felt my heart somewhat
lighter when the work was finished, and we were able to launch the boat
over the side where the bulwarks had been knocked away when the enemy
ran us aboard. She swam well, and we at once began putting what we
required into her. The pirates had carried off all the compasses they
could find, but the captain had a small spare one in a locker which had
not been broken open, and this he now got out, with a chart and quadrant
they had also overlooked. Thus we might contrast our condition very
favourably with that of many poor fellows, who have been compelled to
leave their sinking ships in the mid Atlantic or Pacific hundreds of
miles from any known coast, without chart or compass, and with a scant
supply of water and provisions.
We had no difficulty in stowing water and provisions for the remnant of
the crew to last us till we could reach Zante or Cephalonia, or some
part of the Grecian coast; for that, I heard the captain say, would be
the best direction to steer. We first put the wounded who could not
help themselves into the boat, and the rest were following, when the
captain stopped us.
"Stay, my lads," said he. "The schooner will float for some time
longer, and we must not leave the bodies of our poor shipmates aboard
her to be eaten by the fish with as little concern as if they were
animals."
"All right, sir," answered the men, evidently pleased. "We wouldn't
wish to do so either, sir, but we thought you were in a hurry to be
off."
We set to work at once, for all hands knew what he meant, and we sewed
each of the bodies up in canvas, with shot at their feet. "Can anybody
say any prayers?" asked the captain. No one answered. Of all the crew,
no one had a prayer-book, nor was a Bible to be found. I had one, I
knew, which had been put into my chest by my grandmother, but I was
ashamed to say it was there, and I had not once looked at it since I
came to sea. Edward Seton, however, who had been put into the boat,
heard the question. "I have a prayer-book, sir," he said. "If I may be
hoisted on deck, I will read the funeral service." The captain accepted
his offer. He was taken out of the boat and propped up on a mattress.
He read the Church of England burial service with a faltering voice (he
himself looking like death itself) over the bodies of those whom it
appeared too probable that he would shortly follow.
It might, perhaps, have been more a superstitious than a religious
feeling which induced my rough, uneducated shipmates to attend to the
service, but it seemed to afford them satisfaction, and it may, perhaps,
at all events, have done some of us good. Then the poor fellows were
launched overboard, with a sigh for their loss, for they were brave
fellows, and died fighting like British seamen. Charley stood by while
his father's body was committed to the deep, and he cried very heartily,
as if he really felt his loss. Then, slowly, one after the other of us
went into the boat. The captain was the last to quit the schooner. For
some time we held on. The captain evidently could not bring himself to
give the order to cast off--indeed, it was possible that the vessel
might still float for some time longer; still it is difficult to say
when a water-logged vessel may go down. Had we hung on during the dark,
we might have been taken by surprise, and not have been able to get
clear in time. I heard the captain propose to Mr Cole to set her on
fire, in the hopes that the blaze might bring some vessel down to our
relief; but I suspect that he had not the heart to do it. At last, as
night was coming on, he gave the order, "Cast off." I suspect he never
gave a more unwilling one. Not another word did he say, but he gave a
last lingering look at the craft he had so long commanded, and then
turned away his head.
Our lugs were hoisted, for the wind had come round to the southward, and
away we stood for Cephalonia. It was a beautiful night, the sea was
smooth and the wind was light,--indeed, we would rather have had more of
it,--the stars came brightly out of the clear sky, and there was every
appearance of fine weather. There seemed no reason to doubt that all
would go well, if the wind did not again get up; and, as we had just had
a strong blow, there was a prospect of its continuing calm till we got
to our destination. The night passed away pretty well--all hands slept
by turns, and, for my own part, I could have slept right through it, had
it not been that the groans of one of my companions, who lay close to
me, sounded in my ears and awoke me. I sat up and recognised the voice
of poor Edward Seton. La Motte and I, who were closest to him, did all
we could to assuage his pain. We bathed his wounds and supplied him
with drink, but his tortures increased till towards the morning, when on
a sudden he said that he felt more easy. At first, I fancied that all
was going right with him; but soon the little strength he had began to
fail, and as the sun rose, and fell on his pale cheeks, I saw that the
mark of death was already there. I spoke to him and asked him what I
could do for him. He was perfectly conscious of his approaching death.
"You have done all you could for me, Will," he answered, in a low faint
voice, not audible to the rest. "It is all over with me in this world.
I am glad that you are near me, for you think more as I do, and you know
better what is right than the rest of our shipmates; but, Weatherhelm,
let a dying man warn you, as you know better than others what is right,
so are your responsibilities greater, and thus more will be demanded of
you by the Great Judge before whom I am about to stand, and you will
have to stand ere long. Oh! do not forget what I have said. And now I
would ask a favour for myself. I have a mother living near Hull, and
one I love still better, a sweet young girl I was to have married. Find
out my mother--she will send for her--see them both--tell them how I
died--how I was doing my duty faithfully as a seaman, and how I thought
of them to the last."
"Yes, yes," I answered, "I'll do my best to fulfil your wishes." I took
his hand and pressed it. A fearful change came over his countenance,
and he was a corpse. I hoped to be able to keep my promise, for often
the only satisfaction a dying seaman has, is to know that his shipmates
will faithfully carry his last messages to those he loves best on earth.
The body was dragged forward into the bow of the boat, for rough as
were the survivors, all esteemed Edward Seton, and no one liked to
propose without necessity to throw his remains overboard before they
were cold.
At noon the captain took an observation, and found that since leaving
the schooner the previous evening we had run about forty miles, which
showed that we had been going little more than two and a half knots an
hour--for the wind had been very light all the time. Still we were far
better off than if it had been blowing a gale. As, however, the day
drew on, clouds began to collect in the horizon, forming heavy banks
which grew darker and darker every instant. I saw the captain and mate
looking at them anxiously.
"We are going to have another blow before long," observed Mr Cole. "If
we could have got under the lee of some land before it came on, it would
have been better for us."
"No doubt about that, Mr Cole; but as we have no land near us, if the
gale catches us we must weather it out as men best can," answered the
captain.
The mate was unfortunately right, and somewhere about the end of the
afternoon watch a strong breeze sprung up from the southward, which soon
caused a good deal of sea. The boat was hauled close to the wind on the
larboard tack, but she scarcely looked up to her course, besides making
much lee-way. She proved, however, more seaworthy than might have been
expected, but we shipped a good deal of water at times, to the great
inconvenience of the wounded men, and we had to keep constantly baling
with our hats, or whatever we could lay hold of. As it became necessary
to lighten the boat as much as possible, the captain ordered us to sew
the body of poor Seton up in his blanket, and to heave it overboard. No
one present was able to read the burial service over him, and he who had
so lately performed that office for his shipmates was committed to the
deep without a prayer being said over him. I thought it at the time
very shocking; but I have since learned to believe that prayers at a
funeral are uttered more for the sake of the living than the dead, and
that to those who have departed it matters nothing how or where their
body is laid to rest. Of course we had no shot to fasten to poor
Seton's body. For a short time it floated, and as I watched it with
straining eyes, surrounded by masses of white foam blown from the
summits of the rising waves, I thought of the awful warning he had
lately uttered to me, and felt that I, too, might be summoned whither he
was gone.
The wind and sea were now rapidly rising. In a short time it had
increased very much, and as the waves came rolling up after us, they
threatened every instant to engulf the boat. She had begun to leak also
very considerably, and do all we could, we were unable to keep her free
of water.
"We must lighten the boat, my lads," said the captain. "Don't be
down-hearted, though; we shall soon make the land, and then we shall
find plenty of provisions to supply the place of what we must now cast
away."
Some of the men grumbled at this, and said that they had no fancy to be
put on short allowance, and that they would keep the provisions at all
risks. I never saw a more sudden change take place in any man than came
over the countenance of the captain at this answer. Putting the tiller
into the mate's hand, he sprung up from his seat. "What, you thought I
was changed into a lamb, did you?" he exclaimed in a voice of thunder.
"Wretched idiots! just for the sake of indulging for a few hours in
gluttony, you would risk your own lives and the lives of all in the
boat. The first man who dares to disobey me, shall follow poor Seton
out there--only he will have no shroud to cover him. You, Storr,
overboard with that keg; Johnston, do you help him." The men addressed
obeyed without uttering another word, and the captain went back to the
stern-sheets, and issued his orders as calmly as if nothing had
occurred.
"The captain was like himself, as I have been accustomed to see him," I
thought to myself. "Sorrow for the loss of his vessel and his people
changed him for a time, and now he is himself again."
I was not quite right, though. Rough as he looked, he was born with a
tender heart; but habit, example, and independent command, and long
unconstrained temper, made him appear the fierce savage man I often
thought him. A large quantity of our water and provisions, and stores
of all sorts, were thrown overboard, as was everything that was not
absolutely necessary, to lighten the boat as much as possible. Yet, do
all we could, there appeared to be a great probability that we should
never manage to reach the shore. The water had also somehow or other
worked its way between the canvas at the joints in the fore and after
parts of the boat, in addition to the seas which came in over the
gunwale. To assist in keeping it out we stuffed everything soft we
could find, bits of blanket, our shirt-sleeves and handkerchiefs, into
the holes in the planks, though of course but little good was thus
effected. In vain we looked round on every side, in the hope that our
eyes might rest on some object to give us cause for hope. Darker and
more threatening grew the sky, louder roared the wind, and higher and
higher rose the seas. Scarcely half an hour more remained before
darkness would come down on us. With no slight difficulty the boat had
been kept steadily before the seas with the advantage of daylight; at
night, with the sea still higher, we could scarcely expect that she
could be kept clear. It was indeed with little hope of ever again
seeing it rise that we watched the sun sinking towards the western
horizon.