We left Antony Waymouth and his companions in misfortune on board the
ill-starred Lion, which was driving at furious speed across the wide
Pacific. For many days no observation had been taken, for neither sun
nor stars had been visible. One compass alone remained uninjured, and
that told them that their course was still easterly, and some began to
assert that they would meet with no land till they struck on the vast
continent of America. Would their crazy, battered bark float as long?
Would their provisions and water hold out till they could reach some
hospitable shore? No longer was the once docile ship under control; the
rudder had been carried away, and with the scant materials at their
disposal they could not construct a new one, nor while the sea ran so
high could they attempt to rig it. The foresail still stood and dragged
the ship forward, nor could it with safety be lowered, for without it
she might have broached to, and all on board have been swept from the
decks. By constant bailing and labouring at the pumps the leaks could
with difficulty be kept under. Yet hope in the bosoms of Waymouth,
Raymond, Ap Reece, and some of the braver spirits, was not extinct. The
more ignorant men, however, began to despair, and would, had not strict
watch been kept, have broken into the spirit-room and drunk till they
became unconscious of all that was occurring around.
The fever caught at Bantam had not yet left the crew, and many still lay
struck down by it in their berths, while one or more continued every day
to be added to the list of victims. Not a day passed that one was not
carried off. No one knew who would next be called away. Seldom that
more than one died in the day, yet that circumstance seemed to create
greater terror than had several died together. "Who has gone to-night?"
was the question asked by the survivors as each morning they met on deck
after their troubled rest below. Thus gradually the crew diminished in
numbers. How valueless appeared the wealth they had with so much toil
and danger collected! Of the officers, Waymouth, Raymond, Carlingford,
and Ap Reece, with Master Walker and the two young cabin-boys, were the
only ones who had hitherto escaped. All the rest whose names have not
been mentioned in this chronicle had sunk under the fell disease.
Honest Dick Lizard was among the survivors, and so likewise were Hagger
and Soper, and several of the mutineers. Including them, of seamen,
soldiers, and idlers or landsmen not a score and a half still lived.
Master Walker had not exhorted in vain, and, abashed and confounded,
many of the mutineers believed that they had by their crime brought down
the vengeance of Heaven on their heads.
Still Hagger and others clung to the idea of possessing the gold, and,
hoping that the ship would escape foundering, waited for an opportunity
to make off with it, though not knowing whither they could go. They had
set their hearts on the gold, though, like the miser gloating over his
hoard, they did not recollect how utterly without value it would be
unless it could be exchanged for objects they might require.
For many days the storm had continued without abating. With short
intervals of rest, every one on board had laboured at the pumps, and the
full, clear streams which flowed from the scuppers as the ship rolled
from side to side showed the quantity of water which found an entrance
between the planks. Now, as on she drove amidst mist and spray, dim
outlines might be seen of land, or seeming land, often high as if
composed of mountain-ranges, at other times low, like banks just rising
above the water. Some, however, deemed the forms but those of clouds
either floating high in the sky or resting on the ocean, and that could
they have approached the spots where they were supposed to be, they
would have vanished from the sight.
For several days no such appearances were observed; then, again, more
were seen, and once more the ship drove on without a break in the circle
of the horizon. At length the storm gave signs of breaking--the seas
began to lessen in height, and the wind to howl less shrilly through the
rigging of the remaining masts. Almost as suddenly as it had commenced,
the tempest ceased, and the sea, no longer stirred by its power, went
rapidly down.
Next day, as the sun rose brilliantly over the waste of waters, the wind
fell altogether. Not a ripple broke the glass-like surface of the
ocean; there was a perfect calm. Slowly at first the huge ship rolled
from side to side, and then by degrees all movement ceased, and she lay
like a log on the watery waste. No longer tossed to and fro, the planks
between which the sea had found an entrance closed, and the pumps gained
triumphantly on the leak. Waymouth, with his few surviving officers and
friends, stood on the deck of the shattered bark; the crew lay or sat
grouped about forward.
It was evident to the officers that no longer had they power to guide
their ship, and it was proposed to build a boat and in her seek some
island where at all events they might find food and water, and no longer
be the sport of the elements.
Waymouth shook his head.
"I in no wise object, gentlemen and dear friends, to build a boat," he
observed. "By her means we may guide our ship into a port; but while a
plank of her holds together, I, her captain, can by no means desert her.
Others may do as they judge convenient--I will not counsel; but my
maxim has ever been to stay by the ship to the last."
"And I, dear friend, will stay by you!" exclaimed Raymond, stepping
forward and grasping Waymouth's hand. "We are in the power of
Providence, and if it is thought fit that we die on some foreign strand
why should we complain? Or, if not, the means will be found by which
once more we may visit our native shores."
"Well spoken and truly," said Master Walker. "I, too, will abide with
our brave captain and share his fortunes."
"I never thought of doing otherwise," cried Ap Reece, "for, to say the
truth, I was sure that the knaves who would have deserted him would not
be worth caring for."
The two cabin-boys declared that their only wish was to remain with
their brave captain.
A boat, however, must be built as the surest means of guiding the ship
into a harbour or to an anchorage, and at once all hands set to work to
accomplish the object. Planks, and ribs, and nails enough for the
purpose were found, and all worked most diligently. There was no
idleness now. No one showed greater zeal than Peter Hagger and his
former associates. Waymouth, in the generosity of his heart, believed
that he was desirous of making amends for his former misconduct.
The boat was of good size, so that she might, if it was required, carry
all hands, either should the ship be about to sink, or be driven against
rocks, or cast on shore. Masts and sails were fitted to her, and long
sweeps, at each of which two men might pull. She was speedily ready,
and with reason, for no one could tell at what moment she might be
wanted.
"I hope that we may not want her to carry us all, for it would be a
brave thing to take back the good ship, if so be we may find a harbour
of refuge to refit," observed the captain as he contemplated the boat
just completed.
The storm had continued long, but it seemed as if the calm was about to
continue for a still longer period. Day after day the sun rose and shed
a hot glare over the glass-like surface of the ocean; but there the
storm-battered ship lay like a deserted wreck, scarcely capable of
holding human beings, so forlorn and helpless she looked. Hopeless was
the attempt to rig jury-masts, for not a spar remained of a size
sufficient to bear a sail. Exertions, however, were made to build a
rudder, by which, when the breeze returned, the ship might be guided
free from any dangers which might appear ahead, or steered towards a
promising anchorage. Materials, however, were scanty, and little
expectation was entertained that it would stand any rough usage of the
sea. Death, in taking away so many of the crew, had left fewer mouths
to feed, and thus there appeared to be a sufficiency of provisions to
last for many months, and of water there were many casks full.
Strange to narrate, the fever at length, in spite of the calm, had
quitted the ship; those who had last been taken ill were recovering, and
the spirits of all somewhat revived. They expected deliverance of some
sort, though they could not tell whence it might come. Some had spoken
with seamen who had sailed with the famous Sir Francis Drake, and they
told of beautiful islands with lofty hills, and fountains of bright
waters, and groves of cocoa-nuts, and many trees with delicious fruits,
and roots of various descriptions fit for food, so easy of cultivation
that the happy natives lived at ease without the necessity of labour.
They failed not, also, to tell of other advantages peculiarly attractive
to the taste of seamen. It is not surprising that the delights offered
by a life in one of these happy islands became the constant theme of
conversation among the seamen, till they began to persuade themselves,
that, although their gold might be of little value, they might pass
their days with no small amount of contentment.
Few on board felt their situation more painfully than Edward Raymond.
For the sake of one he dearly loved he had become an adventurer that he
might make his fortune. He had obtained the wealth he coveted, and now
it appeared that he was doomed never to enjoy it.
While the gale lasted the ship was driving onward, and might in reality
be approaching home, but now she was motionless, and it seemed that thus
she might remain till their food should be exhausted and all should die,
and the rigging should rot, and the bulwarks and decks decay, and at
length the ship herself go down into the depths of the sea. That such
had been the fate of many a stout ship with her gallant crew there could
be no doubt. Waymouth fully believing, however, that some island would
be reached ere long where provisions and water could be obtained, had in
no way stinted the crew of their usual allowance. One day, however, the
carpenter desired to speak with him. His countenance, expressive of
consternation, showed that something was very wrong.
"What ails it with thee?" asked the captain, concealing his own anxiety.
"An' it please your honour, the casks which I deemed full of water have
leaked till not a drop in most of them remains," was the appalling
answer. "We have not water for another three days."
"Bad news indeed, Master Auger, but, ere three days are over, maybe we
shall reach some green island where there will be no lack of water and
other things to refresh the men," answered the captain calmly. "Make
not the news public, however. We must lessen the allowance, and trust
that a good Providence will send us relief."
More than ever was a breeze prayed for. All on board were placed on an
allowance of water sufficient only to moisten their parched tongues; yet
even thus, as the calm continued, it appeared too likely that it would
altogether fail. Gladly would the hapless crew have given all the gold
on board the Lion for a few casks of the precious fluid. Waymouth made
every effort to keep them employed. A great object was to ascertain the
situation of the chief leaks; and this by perseverance he was enabled to
do, as well as to stop them. By making the men constantly bathe he
prevented them feeling so much as they might have done the want of fresh
water; but, in spite of all his watchful care, there were some bad
hearts among the crew who did not cease to plot against him. For a
time, notwithstanding all their trials and hardships, the bold Gentlemen
Adventurers kept up a gallant appearance; but now, at length, their
sufferings began to tell upon them, and their sunken eyes, hollow
cheeks, and haggard looks told plainly what they endured. No longer in
brave attire with elastic step they paced the deck, but unshaven and
with unarranged garments they leaned against the bulwarks, or slowly
dragged their feet for a few minutes where they were wont to walk so
briskly.
With longing eyes the horizon was scanned for the signs of a coming
breeze. The wind came at last from the west, and once more the ship
moved slowly through the water. Hope revived. For two days she
continued her course, towing after her the boat which had been launched
during the calm in readiness for use. Again the fitful breeze ceased,
and the ship lay motionless as before. A slight breeze came, and clouds
assembled, and showers fell. The grateful rain was collected in sails
and buckets, and saved by every means, and afforded important relief to
all remaining on board. So light was the wind that it scarce moved the
heavy ship through the water. Three more days passed, and once again
the ship began to move. More and more rapidly she glided along towards
the east.
"America will be reached at last, friends, and then it will be hard if
some Spaniard fall not in our way whom we may compel to convoy us back
to Old England," observed Waymouth as he watched the progress of the
ship through the water.
Once more the hearts of all on board revived; and well might they, for
the sea was calm, the air pure, and the sun shone brightly from out of
the blue firmament. Of provisions there were sufficient to last for
some time, and the water, if husbanded with good care, might hold out
till more rain should fall. The want, however, of fresh meat and
vegetables began to tell, and that scourge of mariners, the scurvy, made
its appearance. More than ever, therefore, did Waymouth desire to meet
with some green island where his crew might refresh. The pleasant
breeze continued, and wafted the ship along at moderate speed.
So limited was the number of officers that Waymouth took his watch like
the rest. He had been on deck all the afternoon. Edward Raymond took
the first night watch. He walked the deck thinking of home. Should he
ever return there? Should he ever be united to her he loved? He
believed in her truth and constancy, and until she received undoubted
proof of his fate, she would not believe him lost. What a solace, what
a pure delight was it to him to think of her, of her bright love, of all
her noble qualities! He pitied his friend, and wished that he, too, had
before he left England fixed his affections on one worthy of him. His
watch at length was out, and he was relieved by Carlingford. The
boatswain had appeared to be so completely contrite that he had been
allowed to return to his duty, and was to have the morning watch.
Waymouth had slept longer than usual. He knew not how it was. More
than once he had tried to arouse himself, and had again fallen off into
slumber; while his cabin-boy had neglected to call him at the proper
hour. At length he sprang up, and, dressing with the rapidity of a
seaman, he hastened on deck. He gazed for a moment around with mute
astonishment. No officer stood ready to receive him, not a man was to
be seen on deck. The sails were lowered, and the ship lay motionless
like a log upon the water. He looked astern; the boat was gone. A
dreadful suspicion flashed across his mind: he was deserted. Yet could
this be possible? Surely no. Raymond, his long-tried friend, the soul
of honour--he would not have left him! Carlingford, the gallant seaman!
Master Walker the minister, he surely was no hypocrite. Ap Reece,
though hot-headed, was warm-hearted and true as steel. He shouted,
again and again, "All hands on deck! all hands on deck! Your captain
calls!" There was no reply. Was it fancy? A sound came forward.
Before going there, he shouted once more down the after-hatchway. He
had got down about half the length of the deck when Raymond's voice
arrested him. He for some moments could with difficulty comprehend what
had happened. He, too, had likewise only just then awoke from an
unusually sound sleep. Together they hastened forward. There lay,
bound and gagged, Mr Carlingford, Dick Lizard, and several of the crew.
They had all felt unusually drowsy on their watch. Suddenly they had
been set upon by Hagger, Soper, and the wretches who had mutinied and
been pardoned, and, before they could offer any resistance, they were
all knocked down, prevented from crying out, and bound hand and foot.
Several of the watch below were treated in the same manner, and without
delay chests of treasure and provisions had been got up from the hold
and placed in the boat, and the mutineers, leaping into her, after
lowering the sails, had quitted the ship. For some time afterwards
there had been a breeze, so that the sails in the boat must much have
aided them in getting to a distance. Waymouth on hearing this at once
suspected the whole plan of the treacherous plot which had been so
successfully carried out. The mutineers had obtained some narcotic,
with which he and his officers and the loyal part of the crew had been
drugged, and thus the watch on deck had been easily overpowered, and
allowed them time to load the boat with all they desired and to make
their escape. The rest of the officers were found below, unconscious of
what had happened; and Ap Reece, on awaking and examining his medicine
stores, discovered that certain drugs had been abstracted which were
calculated to produce sleep.
"Let the villains go. I wish them no further evil than their own deeds
will assuredly produce," said the captain.
"Add, my brother, that they may be led to see the error of their ways
and repent," said Master Walker. "They have souls, and those souls are
precious; never let us forget that."
A theft of far greater value than that of the gold was the two casks of
water, one only, partly consumed, being left.
"It behooves us to husband this with even greater care than before,
though we may be thankful that we have fewer mouths to consume it," was
the only remark made by the captain.
Still the truth must be said. The hearts of those left could not but
burn with indignation at the treachery of their late shipmates. It was
soon discovered to be even greater than at first supposed; for as soon
as the sails were again set and hands were sent to the helm, it was
found that the newly constructed rudder had been cut adrift, and that
the ship was once more left without the means of being guided so as to
escape a threatened danger or to enter a friendly port. Yet there was
faith in the hearts of those brave men in God's mercy, which had
preserved them hitherto so long, not in their own strength and wisdom,
which they had found so utterly to fail them, and they did not despair.
Towards evening a breeze arose, and once more they were wafted onward in
the same direction as before. Such means as seamen have often used were
employed to guide the ship, by towing several boards, weighted at one
end, astern; but they only served to keep her head in one direction.
All night long they sailed calmly on. When morning broke there was a
cry, "Land, land on the larboard bow!" The sun arose, the blue sea
sparkled brightly, and a lovely island appeared, with yellow sand
fringed by palms and numerous graceful trees and shrubs, and picturesque
hills covered with wood, and waterfalls dashing down amid rocks, and
pure streams flowing towards the ocean, and blue mountains rising
towards the sky in the distance. The ship glided on, nearing the shore.
Should she cast anchor there? A boat was seen ahead. It was their own
boat, carried off by the mutineers. There was a calm spot between the
rocks; the boat ran in. The ship's course would carry her clear of the
land unless great efforts were made to guide her in. They watched with
anxiety the proceedings of those in the boat. From amid the beautiful
groves numerous bands of natives rushed out. Their skins were dark;
their hair strangely dressed. They had bows and large clubs in their
hands. Those in the boat made signs to show that they desired to be
friendly, but the dark-skinned natives disregarded them. The seamen
endeavoured to shove off, but the savages, sending a thick flight of
arrows, rushed into the water and seized the boat. The hapless crew in
vain endeavoured to defend themselves. The savages surrounded them,
grappled with them, tore them from the boat with uplifted clubs, and ere
many seconds had passed their brains were scattered on the sands. The
remaining crew of the Lion gazed with horror on the scene. Not one of
their late shipmates remained alive. Truly had retribution speedily
overtaken them.
Quickly, however, the savages were seen to be launching canoes of large
dimensions, each capable of containing three to five score of men. It
was evident that pursuit was intended. The Lion's guns might have put
them to the rout, but her powder had been well-nigh expended, and the
little that remained had been greatly damaged by the water.
Had the ship been under proper government, she might, it was supposed,
have run down the canoes, or, at all events, have avoided them, and not
allowed them to come alongside; but as it was, there appeared great
probability that the fate of the mutineers might be theirs. Still, like
brave men, they felt that they had to do their best and leave the rest
to Providence. Thus, with the little powder they possessed fit for use,
four of the after-guns and a number of the small arms were loaded, and
they continued their course. Should any reef be in the way on which it
should be their fate to strike, they knew that their fate must be
sealed. They could see the black savages making violent and threatening
gesticulations as they laboured at forcing their canoes into the water.
Happily the operation was a long one. The canoes when afloat appeared
even larger than on shore; they were like two large boats united by one
wide deck or platform, with one mast. On this a vast sail of matting
was set, and over the water they glided at a rapid rate. The warriors
on board meantime were brandishing their weapons, and leaping, and
dancing, and shouting. More and more canoes were launched till a whole
fleet was in pursuit of the Lion, which glided on in silence as if
unconscious of their presence. A fair breeze had been blowing--it began
to increase. The farther the Lion got from the land the stronger it
blew; the sea, too, became rougher and rougher. The canoes were closely
approaching, for in the smooth water they sailed three times as fast as
the Lion. Their numbers were overwhelming. Should they persevere, even
the Lion's shot would avail nothing against them. Waymouth ordered that
not a gun should be fired till he should give the word. On came the
foe. The leading canoes were almost up to the Lion, but, no longer
steady, she began to roll and pitch in the rising sea. Still eager for
their prey, the savages persevered. The headmost darted alongside. The
Lion's guns were depressed. "Fire, my brave men! Fire down into them!"
cried Waymouth, setting the example and bringing down a savage, who, by
his appearance and gestures, seemed to be a chief. Not a shot was
thrown away. Some of the savages who were climbing up the ship's sides
were driven back, but others, as the canoes came up, succeeded them.
More and more were coming on. Just then a heavy squall struck the ship.
Like a restive steed she gave a plunge forward, then rolled from side
to side, shaking herself clear of the canoes surrounding her. The
savages were driven from their hold; the canoes were thrown one upon the
other, and on sprang the gallant Lion free from her foes. Her
after-guns played upon them for a few minutes, but when, baffled and
confused, they showed no signs of pursuing, the English ceased firing,
and the ship pursued her course unmolested. Grateful as they were for
their preservation, it was tantalising to the crew to sail away from
that seemingly lovely shore where water and the vegetables they so much
needed might be procured in abundance.
"Were it not for the light of gospel truth we might be such as they
are," observed Master Walker, pointing at the island. "See the earth in
that sweet spot as God hath made it, and see man in those savages as sin
has made him, and as he will continue till that blessed light irradiates
his mind and heart."