DIGBY GAINS A KNOWLEDGE OF BOATING AND OTHER MANLY EMPLOYMENTS--THE
WONDERS OF THE SEA-SIDE--A SHIPWRECK--DIGBY PROVES HIMSELF A HERO--HOW
HE GAINED A FRIEND.
Digby, as he became more practised in the arts, gained a keen relish for
boating, not mere pulling, but for sailing--the harder it blew, the
better pleased he was. In this he was joined by Easton, who was always
delighted when old Toby would take them out on a stormy day. Marshall
and the others confessed that they liked fine weather sailing.
"But, suppose the boat was capsized, what would you do?" said Marshall
to Digby.
"Hold on to her, I suppose," was the answer.
"But very likely you would be thrown to a distance, what then?"
"Why I should try and catch what was nearest to me," replied Digby.
"But suppose there was nothing near you," remarked his friend.
"Then, I suppose I should--. Let me see, I scarcely know what I should
do--I should try to swim," said Digby, after some hesitation.
"That is just what I wanted to bring you to," said Marshall. "You have
not learned to swim, you know, and you assuredly would not then swim for
the first time, so that if no one was near to help you, you would
inevitably be drowned. Take my advice--learn to swim forthwith; Toby
will teach you. If you were to go to Eton, you would not be allowed to
go in the boats till you had learnt. Everybody should know how to swim,
both for their own sakes and for the benefit of their fellow-creatures.
It is really disgraceful for an English boy not to know how to do what
even savages can do so well."
Marshall went on in this style till Digby felt perfectly ashamed of
himself, and resolved to learn as soon as possible if Toby would teach
him. He was manly enough, as has been seen, in disposition, but all his
knowledge of manly exercises he had acquired from John Pratt, except
riding, which his father had taken a pride in teaching him. Swimming
was not among John Pratt's accomplishments, and so Digby had remained
ignorant of it. There are many boys like him, brought up at home or at
small private schools, who are even worse off. In many instances their
education is very carefully attended to, but for fear of accidents they
are not allowed to bathe, or climb trees, or to shoot. Numbers have
suffered from this mistake when they have had to go out into the world
and take care of themselves--they have been drowned, when, had they been
able to swim, their lives would have been saved; had they been
accustomed to climb, they might have scaped from a burning house, a
wrecked ship, or a wild beast, while they have been called upon to use
fire-arms before they know how to load a gun.
"Toby," said Digby, "I want to learn how to swim."
"Then come along, master," replied the old man, and they rowed across to
a quiet little bay, with a sandy shore, sheltered by rocks, on the side
of the river opposite the town. "Pull off your clothes, master," said
Toby, as they were still some little way from the shore.
Digby did as he was bid.
"Now, jump overboard," added Toby.
Digby stood up, but as he looked into the water and could see no bottom,
he shuddered at the thought of plunging in. Toby passed a band round
his waist with a rope to it, but Digby scarcely perceived this--he felt
himself pushed, and over he went, heels over head, under the water.
"Oh, I'm drowning, I'm drowning," he cried out when he came to the
surface.
"Oh no, you're not, master, you're all right," said the old man.
"Strike out for the shore, and try if you can't swim there."
Digby did strike out, but wildly, and not in a way that would have kept
him afloat.
"That's the way you'd have done if the boat was capsized, and you'd have
drowned yourself and any one who came to help you," remarked Toby; "but
catch hold of this oar. Now strike away with your feet, right astern;
not out of the water, though; keep them lower down. That's the way to
go ahead. Steady, though; strike both of them together. Slow, though;
slower. We're in no hurry, there's plenty of time; you can learn the
use of your hands another day. Draw your legs well under you. Now, as
I give the word--strike out, draw up; strike out, draw up. That will do
famously. If you keep steadily at it you'll learn to swim in a very few
days."
Digby felt rather tired when he and the boat at length reached the
shore. He had some notion that he had towed her there, which he had
not, though. He had learned an important part of the art of swimming.
When he came out of the water, and had dressed, Toby showed him how to
use his hands.
"Now, Master Heathcote, look here. Do as I do."
Toby put his hands together, with the fingers straight out and close to
each other, and the palms slightly hollowed. Then he brought them up to
his breast, and darting them forward, separated his hands and pressed
them backwards till he brought his elbows down to the hips, close to his
body, and again turned his wrists till his hands once more got back to
the attitude with which he had started. He made Digby do this over and
over again, till he was quite eager to jump into the water and put his
knowledge into practice.
"No, no, master," said Toby, "you've had bathing enough to-day. Just do
you keep on doing those movements whenever you have a spare moment, and
to-morrow we'll see how well you can do them in the water."
Digby was certain that not only would he do them perfectly, but that he
should be able to swim any distance.
Toby said nothing, but his nose curled up in its quiet funny way.
The next day was very fine, and all the boys came down to bathe, and to
see Digby swim, as he boasted he could do perfectly well. They crossed
over to the bay, all of them getting ready for a plunge.
"Now, Digby," cried Marshall, when they got near the shore, "overboard
we go."
"All right," cried Digby, putting his hands into the scientific
attitude, as far as he could recollect it; and, with great courage, he
jumped into the water.
Somehow or other, he could not tell why, down he went some way under the
surface, and when he came up he had forgotten all about the way to
strike out which Toby had taught him. Instead of that, he flung about
his arms and kicked his legs out in the wildest manner, and would have
gone down again had not Marshall swam up alongside him, and, putting his
hand under his chin, told him to keep perfectly quiet till he had
collected his senses. He had resolution enough to do this, and was
surprised to find himself floating on the surface of the water with so
little support.
"Bravo, Master Marshall," cried Toby. "Now strike out, Master
Heathcote, as I showed you."
The recollection of how to strike came back to Digby, and, to his great
delight, he found himself making some progress towards the shore, his
friend still holding him up by the chin.
"Let me go, I am sure I can swim alone," he cried.
Marshall did so, but, after a few strokes, down he went, and again he
forgot what he had done so satisfactorily on dry land. His feet,
however, touched the bottom, and, hopping on one leg, he went on
striking out with his hands, and fancying that he was swimming, till he
reached the shore. His companions, of course, laughed at him, but he
did not mind that, and, running in again, he made one or two more
successful attempts, but he forbore boasting any more of the distance he
was going to swim. When once again he had gone out till the water
reached his chin, he found the boat close to him.
"Don't be swimming any more, Master Heathcote, but give me your hand,"
said Toby, taking it. "There, now throw yourself on your back, stick
your legs out, put your head back as far as it will go, lift up your
chest, now don't move, let your arms hang down. There, I'll hold you
steady; a feather would do it. Now you feel how the water keeps you up.
There, you might stay there for an hour, or a dozen hours for that
matter, if it wasn't for the cold, in smooth water. You'll learn to
swim in a very few days now, I see, without your clothes, and then you
must learn with your clothes on. If I couldn't have done that I should
not have been here; I should have been drownded long ago."
Thus discoursing, the old man let Digby float by the side of the boat
till he had been long enough in the water, and then he helped him out
and made him dress quickly.
The other boys then got in, and consulted together how they should spend
the remainder of the afternoon. Power, who was the chief fisherman of
the party, voted for going outside and trying to catch some mackerel.
No objections were made. Toby consented: he had lines and hooks in the
boat.
They pulled down to the mouth of the river, and were very soon in the
open sea. There was scarcely any wind, the sea was blue and bright, the
coast was picturesque, with rocky headlands, and white sandy bay; and
green downs above, and cliffs on which numberless wildfowl had taken up
their habitations. As they pulled close under the rocks, numbers of
gulls flew out, screaming loudly at the intruders on their domains.
"I have often thought, when I have heard people talking of their ancient
families and their ancient homes, how much more ancient are the families
and the abodes of those white-coated gentry," observed Marshall. "Up
there, now, perhaps, the ancestors of those birds have lived, from
generation to generation, since the flood. They witnessed the first
peopling of our tight little island by the painted savages, who were as
barbarous as the New Zealanders or the Fejee Islanders of the present
century; the landing of Julius Caesar and his warriors, the battles of
the Norsemen, the Danes, and the Saxons, and the defeat of the Spanish
armada. I wish that they could tell us all the interesting things they
have seen."
Easton liked the idea. Digby did not understand it, for his knowledge
of history was very limited.
"I know what they've seen," observed Toby. "They've seen many a cargo
of smuggled silks, and teas, and brandies run hereabouts, in days gone
by."
"Oh, those smugglers are jolly fellows!" exclaimed Digby. "I should
like to see something of their fun. I can't fancy any finer sport than
landing a cargo and having to run the gauntlet among a whole posse of
revenue officers."
"Something like prisoners' base, you would say," observed Marshall,
"only, I suspect, with a greater chance of being caught and shut up for
a longer time than would be pleasant."
"I'll tell you what it is, young gentlemen," said Toby, who had been
listening in silence to Digby's and the other boys' thoughtless remarks,
"smuggling is a very bad business, let me tell you. I've seen something
of it, and I know what it is. I've seen money made by it, I'll allow,
just as I've seen money made by other evil practices; but I've seen very
many fine fellows brought to a bad end by it, and have never known any
to prosper long at it. Laws were made for the good of all, and no man
has a right to break them for his own advantage or pleasure. Though I'm
only a poor boatman I've found that out, and it's my duty to make others
understand the truth, as well as I can."
The boys confessed that they had never before seen the matter in that
light. They had thought smugglers, and pirates, and bandits, and
highwaymen, and outlaws of all descriptions very fine fellows; and it
had never occurred to them that they should be looked upon as base
scoundrels, who deserved to be hung, or severely punished in some other
way.
"Now let us have out the lines," exclaimed Power, who was eager to begin
fishing. Two of the party paddled the boat on, relieving each other, at
the rate of about two miles an hour.
Toby produced four long, thin lines, wound up on wooden reels. The
lines were considerably slighter than log-lines. Five hooks were
fastened to each, about a yard apart.
"But where is the bait?" asked Digby. "You cannot catch fish without
bait."
"Oh, mackerel are in no ways particular," answered Toby; "a bit of tin
or white rag will attract them; but see, I have some hooks with some
capital bait. It is called a white cock's hackle. The feathers are
fastened on to the butt, and project an inch or more beyond the bend, so
as to cover the barb. This is certain to catch any fish which see it."
The lines were thrown overboard, one on each side, and one over each
quarter. Toby assisted Digby to manage his.
Digby was quite delighted when he felt a sharp tug at the end of his
line.
"Haul in, haul in; you've got him," said Toby.
Digby hauled away, and soon he saw a fish skimming and jumping along on
the smooth surface of the blue water, leaving a thin wake behind him,
while his bright scales glistened in the sun. Digby shouted with
glee,--"I've the first, I've the first. Huzza!"
He almost tumbled overboard in his eagerness to catch hold of the fine
mackerel which came with what he called a hop, skip, and a jump
alongside. He lifted the fish in. The poor mackerel, with his dark
back and white belly, did not look nearly so bright out of the water as
he had done in it. Digby thought it a very elegant-looking fish, and
very unlike any he had ever before caught with John Pratt.
"Now we shall catch a plenty," said Toby, as, to Digby's dismay, he took
the fish, and, cutting it up into strips, baited each of the hooks with
it. "These mackerel like nothing better than their own kind."
Two or three dozen mackerel were quickly caught, of which Digby hauled
up several.
"But have we no chance of catching any carp, or tench, or perch?" he
asked, seriously. "I should have thought that there must be plenty
about here."
His companions laughed heartily.
"What is the taste of the water alongside?" asked Marshall.
"Salt," said Digby, tasting it.
"Do you think freshwater fish will live in salt-water?" observed his
friend.
"Oh, you fine sportsman! You laugh at us for not knowing so much about
dogs, and horses, and shooting, and racing, and hunting as you pretend
to do, and yet you are ignorant of far more important, and just as
interesting matters."
"Still, young gentlemen, I'm thinking that every man shines most in his
own element, as the mackerel would say, if they could speak, and would
rather be left there," observed Toby, who was a great philosopher in
many respects, although no man could be much more prejudiced with regard
to his own calling of a sailor than he was. Such is often the ease.
When judging of the opinion of others, we should always try to discover
whether we are not prejudiced too much in favour of our own.
The boys had a capital evening's sport, and Digby learned much more
about conger-eels, and whiting, and bass, and mullet, and turbot, and
plaice, and John Dories, and brill, and other salt-water fish, than he
had ever known before. He was daily discovering, by practical
experience, that there are many things in creation "of which he had
never before dreamed in his philosophy." In other words, he began to
suspect, that though he was a very fine fellow, daring to do anything,
and ready to fight any boy of his age, he was in reality a remarkably
ignorant young gentleman. This, to a lad of Digby's disposition, was a
very important discovery. He was, I hope, on the high road to
improvement. There is a saying, that "Where ignorance is bliss, it is
folly to be wise;" but depend on it, the moment the ignorance is
suspected, it is much greater folly not to set strenuously to work to
correct it.
When the lads got home, they recounted with great glee their adventures,
and offered, with much satisfaction, their baskets of fish to Mrs
Nugent. They were served up fresh for breakfast and dinner the next
day, and for two or three days afterwards, cut open and salted.
Digby heard Mr Nugent speaking of the wonders of the deep.
"What, uncle, are there any things besides fish in the sea?" he asked
with, what the other boys thought, an almost incredible amount of
simplicity.
One of the few recreations Mr Nugent allowed himself, was a fishing
expedition on board a trawler. Not that he cared much for the fish
which the trawl caught, but his delight was to examine the numberless
specimens of animal marine life which came up at the same time. Digby
heard his uncle and Marshall talking about Noctilucae, and Medusae, and
Cydippi Actiniae, and Asterias, and Echini, and Terebellae, and
Nereides, and Cirripedes, and Solens, and Gastropods, and numberless
other creatures with hard names, which he thought that he could never
recollect, and about which he was persuaded he could not understand.
"And are all these animals found in the sea near here?" he asked.
"Yes, and thousands more," answered his uncle; "it would take a lifetime
to catch and note the habits of those found on this coast alone. Each
person can only hope to add a little to the stock of knowledge which
others have obtained, and to ascertain what has been discovered by
others. Still, the pursuit of that knowledge is so delightful, as is,
indeed, the study of all God's works, that those occupied in it find
themselves amply repaid for all the physical and mental exertion they
have to take to attain it."
"Are the things you speak of like horses, and dogs, and cats, or more
like fish?" asked Digby, seriously. "I should think with such curious
names they must be very curious looking things."
Marshall and Power laughed heartily, and even his uncle could not help
smiling as he replied:
"Curious and wonderful, indeed, they are, but they are not fish in
appearance, and still less like terrestrial quadrupeds. Some have their
heads at the end of their feet, and their eyes at the extremities of
their arms. Some walk on their heads, and others have their arms
growing from the top of their heads. Some, too, can turn themselves
inside out, and others of their own accord, break themselves to pieces,
and then, what is more wonderful still, like one of the tricks to be
seen at a pantomime, the bits send forth arms, and legs, and heads, and
tails, and become perfect animals again."
Digby listened with mute astonishment. He knew that his uncle would not
tell him an untruth, and yet he fancied that, somehow or other, he must
be laughing at him. The account he had heard, however, made him look
forward eagerly to the promised trawling expedition.
The day approached, but Digby was doomed to be disappointed. A heavy
gale of wind sprung up in the evening, and blew with great violence
during the night.
The next day was Saturday, and was a half-holiday. Just as the boys had
finished their lessons, a servant-girl came running in, exclaiming:
"Oh, sir, they say that there is a big ship driving on the shore, and
that all the poor souls in her will be lost. Oh, it's very dreadful! oh
dear! oh dear!"
Mr Nugent seized his hat and stick, and the boys prepared to follow
him.
"Stay, we will take a brandy-flask, and any rope to be had--a long pole
may be useful."
These articles being quickly found, the boys carrying them, they hurried
out to the beach.
Not the eighth of a mile from the shore was a dismasted vessel, rolling
and tumbling about in the most fearful manner. The crew were trying to
get up jury-masts, or sheers rather, which are formed of two spars, the
butt ends resting against the sides of the ship, and the others joined
together. The sheers were got up, and then an endeavour was made to
hoist a sail on them, to beat the ship off the shore. It was utterly
useless. The sail was blown to ribbons, and the sheers blown away. The
last resource was to anchor. This was done, and the ship rode head to
wind, plunging, however, even more violently than before. Toby Tubb
just then joined Mr Nugent and his pupils.
"There's no use in it. There's no ground here will hold an anchor ten
minutes together." His prediction proved too true. On drove the
hapless ship. She had parted from her anchors, no human power could
avert the expected catastrophe. The only hope that any of those on
board could be saved, would be that the ship might drive into the sandy
cove in which they were standing. If she struck on the dark ledges of
rock outside, not a person on board, it was thought, could be saved.
The sea was breaking with tremendous violence over them, creating sheets
of foam, which were driven towards the shore, almost blinding the
lookers-on.
Digby thought he could almost hear the shrieks of the unfortunate people
on board. He could see them, clearly, throwing up their arms, as if
imploring aid from their fellow-men, who were utterly unable to afford
it.
"Could no boat go off to them?" asked Mr Nugent, eagerly.
"No, sir, no boat would live a second in that sea, alongside those
rocks," answered Toby; "what men can do we will do, when the time comes;
more is unpossible."
"I have a rope and some poles, you see," said Mr Nugent; "they may be
useful."
"So have I, sir, but two ropes may be better than one," was Toby's
reply. "Now, lads, be ready to do what I tells you; follow me."
He addressed a party of seamen and fishermen, not all very young though,
who were standing near with their hands in their pockets, exhibiting,
apparently, very little interest in what was going forward. The
ill-fated ship rose on the top of the huge waves which rolled onward
towards the shore. Now it appeared that she would be engulphed between
them. No further effort was made on board to save her. Such would have
been hopeless. Each person was intent on making preparations for his
own safety. Digby gazed with horror; he felt inclined to shriek out
himself, as he saw the danger of the poor fellows on board. He would
gladly have run away and forgotten all about it, but yet he could not
tear himself from the spot, or his eyes from the driving ship. A few
minutes more, and her fate would be sealed.
"Follow me, lads," suddenly exclaimed old Toby, and led the way towards
a ledge of rocks which jutted out into the sea, and formed one side of
the bay of which I have spoken.
In a moment the fishermen had their hands out of their pockets, and were
all life and activity. Carrying some long spars and several coils of
rope, they hurried after Toby to the end of the reef. Toby was seen to
stop. Digby and his companions held their breath--well they might. It
seemed as if the ship must strike the very end of that black reef, over
which the sea was breaking with violence so fearful that it must have
shattered to fragments the stoutest ship that ever floated. On she
came; there was a pause it seemed; a cross-sea struck her, and amidst a
deluge of foam she was hurled past the point, and driven in towards the
bay. Another sea lifted her up, and then down she came on the beach,
still far out among the breakers, with a tremendous crash, which seemed
to shake the very shore. Now was the moment of greatest peril to those
on board--the seas meeting with a resistance they had not hitherto
found, dashed furiously over the hull, carrying away the bulwarks, and
the boats, and caboose, and everything still remaining on deck. The
crew clung to ropes made fast to the stumps of the masts, or to
ring-bolts in the decks, but the strength of many of them could not
withstand the fury of the seas. One after the other was torn from his
hold, and hurled among the boiling breakers. In vain the poor fellows
struck out; the receding waves dashed them against the side of the ship,
or carried them struggling hopelessly far out to sea, where they were
lost to sight among the foam.
While this was going forward, Toby and his companions were trying every
means they could think of to get a rope carried to the wreck.
Unfortunately they were unprovided with Captain Manby's apparatus, or
any other contrivance for throwing a shot with a line attached to it
over a wreck, so that by the line a hawser might be hauled on shore.
There were none of those excellent inventions--life-boats--in the
neighbourhood, which are now, happily, stationed all along the British
coast, and have been the means of saving the lives of numbers of human
beings; even the coastguard officer and most of his men had gone that
morning to a distance. Toby had, therefore, to trust to his own
resources. The crew seemed utterly unable to make any effort to save
themselves; indeed they saw that should they let go their hold, any
moment they might be washed overboard and drowned. Toby had got a small
keg, to which he fastened a line, and seemed to hope that it might be
carried out by the receding wave towards the wreck, but though it went
some way, another wave came in before it got far enough to be of any
use, and sent it rolling back again with a coil of seaweed, mixed with
sand and foam, on the beach. Toby next fastened a rope round his own
waist, and seemed to contemplate the possibility of swimming off himself
to the wreck, but the men round him held him back, persuading him that
the risk was too great. He stood, evidently seeing that there was very
little chance of success. Now another huge wave came foaming up. The
crew turned their heads with a gaze of horror and alarm as they watched
its approach. On it came, roaring loudly. All on board grasped with a
gripe, in which the force of every sinew and muscle was exerted to the
utmost, the masts and ropes to which they were holding. The wave struck
the ship, shaking her huge hull to the keel, and driving her still
further on the beach. One poor fellow must have had a less secure gripe
than the rest, or else its fury must have been concentrated on him. It
tore him from his hold, lifted him up, and as it passed over, he was
seen struggling in the water. He struck out boldly. Now the roaring
hissing sea carried him onward, then back again, now a side wave took
him and drove him in the direction of the spot where Toby and his
companions were standing. Toby signed to the men to hold the rope, and
plunging in amid the foam, struck out towards the struggling seaman.
Now they were separated, now they were brought nearer together. Now it
seemed as if the stranger would be carried out, as had been the others,
by the receding wave. But the brave fellow still struggled on. It was
too evident, however, that his efforts were growing weaker and weaker.
Toby sung out to him to encourage him to persevere. Toby got close to
him, but just then a hissing wave went rolling back, the stranger threw
up his arms in despair, and was buried beneath the foam. Toby darted
forward and disappeared beneath the water.
"Oh, he is gone, he is drowned, our poor Toby!" exclaimed Digby, giving
way to his feelings.
But Toby had only dived, and the next instant appeared grasping the body
of the seaman, but was being carried at a fearful rate out to sea. His
friends on shore hauled in, however, gently on the rope, and gradually
drew him and the seaman towards them. Still, Toby had much to contend
with; the sea tumbled about and broke wildly around him, and now the
water would make a rush in one direction and then in another, rendering
swimming almost impossible. At length the rocks were reached. Several
of the fishermen who had fastened ropes to their waists, rushed into the
sea to his assistance, and at length he and the nearly drowned man were
hauled up on the rocks.
"Bravo! excellent, brave fellow!" exclaimed Mr Nugent,
enthusiastically, "thank heaven, too, that the poor man is saved."
Digby shouted with delight. "Oh, Toby is a grand fellow!" he exclaimed;
in which sentiment he was joined by his fellow-pupils.
Meantime, Mr Nugent hurried off to be of assistance, if required, to
the rescued man.
The escape of one of their shipmates seemed to give courage to the other
people on board. Another man leaped off the wreck with a line, and
boldly struck out for the rocks. Toby, notwithstanding his previous
exertions, dashed into the sea to meet him, but whether or not he would
succeed appeared very doubtful.
Meantime, another sea came rolling over the wreck. Directly afterwards,
two human forms were seen struggling in the waves. Sometimes the sea
carried them so close to the beach, that it seemed as if they could
almost touch the sand with their feet; then out they were carried once
more, and it appeared that they would be lost altogether. This was the
more sad as Toby and the man, who had jumped off the wreck with the
line, had almost succeeded in establishing a communication between it
and the shore. One of the people got so close to them that they could
see his features. He was evidently a lad, not so old as Marshall.
"I am certain I could get hold of him," cried Digby, suddenly fastening
the rope round his own waist in the way Toby had taught him. "Here, do
you hold the rope tight."
"I ought to go," said Marshall, throwing off his jacket.
"No, no--no time to be lost--now or never," cried Digby, rushing into
the sea just as the wave, having brought the almost senseless lad close
to the beach, was about to carry him off again.
Had he hesitated for a moment he would have been too late. He thought
not of his own safety. On he rushed. The receding water took him off
his legs. He struck out; he was turned heels over head. Still he
dashed on. He was within half an arm's-length of the drowning lad.
"Oh, I must have him," he thought to himself. He sprung on; he caught
him by the collar of his jacket. "Haul away," he sung out.
Marshall and the rest saw that he had got hold of the boy, though they
could not hear him speak.
Nothing but death would have made him relinquish that grasp, he felt.
His companions hauled away, and much force was required, for so strong
was the reflux of the wave that all his own strength would not have
opposed it.
Almost drowned himself, and scarcely sensible, holding tight on to the
boy, he at length was caught hold of by his friends, who ran up with him
and his burden out of the reach of the waves.
They undid the lad's collar and handkerchief. He was breathing, but
insensible. He was as well dressed as they were, and was certainly not
a poor sailor-boy, as Digby had fancied,--not that that would have made
any difference, of course.
Easton ran off to call Mr Nugent, while Marshall, Power, and Norton
attended to the stranger and Digby.
Meantime, they were anxiously looking out for the other person they had
seen in the water. They could just distinguish him, but he had drifted
a long way out, and was making no effort to save himself.
Digby very soon came to his senses, as did the boy he had so gallantly
rescued. No sooner did the latter open his eyes than he looked up and
exclaimed, "Oh, my father, my father; where is he?" He gazed with a
countenance expressive of the greatest fear towards the ocean. Then he
started up, and would have rushed back into the water, had not Marshall
and Digby prevented him.
In the mean time, some more fishermen and other persons had assembled at
the scene of action. One of them was noted for being a first-rate
swimmer. He was somewhat of a rival, too, of Toby's, though they were
excellent friends. Fastening a rope round his waist, he plunged in and
swam out boldly and strongly amid the foaming breakers towards the
drowning man. When the rescued boy saw what he was doing, he was
immediately calm, and kneeling down on the sand, with uplifted hands,
regardless of the bystanders, was evidently praying. What mattered it
to him what others thought; the life of a beloved parent was in the
greatest extreme of danger. He saw clearly that no help which he could
afford him or could obtain would be of any avail, and thus wisely and
with right faith he sought it whence alone it could be given.
The other boys stood around. Marshall joined his prayers to those of
the young stranger, that his father might be saved. Digby wished it,
and would have done anything to assist the struggling man; but how to
pray he knew not. It was a moment of awful suspense; he felt it so
himself. How must that kneeling boy have felt it!
The brave fisherman--John Holmes was his name--swam on. He was joined
by Toby, and at the same time the cask was floated out. It was let go
at the light moment. The person struggling in the water saw it, and
endeavoured to reach it. Twice he was washed away far off from it. No
exclamation all the time was heard from the lips of his son. He gazed
intently on what was going forward. Sometimes he appeared to be about
to rise and rush towards the ocean; but he restrained himself, and
continued kneeling. A shriek, it was one of joy, escaped him when he
saw his father at length grasp hold of the cask.
The two brave fishermen now swam up near him and assisted to hold him
on, while all three were hauled through the foaming surf towards the
rocks.
Then, and not till then, did the young stranger rise from his knees, and
hurry on towards the spot where he believed his father was about to be
landed.
Those in the water were, however, still exposed to a very great danger.
This was from the pieces of wreck which were dashing about in every
direction, and a blow from which might prove fatal.
The boy hurried along over the slippery rocks. He got near enough to
see his father's countenance turned with eyes of affection towards him.
The son knew that he was recognised, and that his father was aware of
his safety. A piece of timber came dashing by. Had not the fishermen
been near him, it would have torn him from his hold. As it was, Holmes
received a severe blow which almost disabled him, but he held on, and in
another minute all three were in the grasp of the men collected on the
rock to assist them.
The first impulse of the father and his son was to throw themselves into
each other's arms, and then the father knelt down and returned thanks to
Heaven for his preservation.
While this episode in the fearful history of that shipwreck was going
forward, a hawser or stout rope had been carried from the stranded ship
to the shore. Several seamen worked their way along it, and readied the
rock in safety. Then another came, but a sea rolled by, and, sweeping
him from his hold, he was carried far away out of sight.
The tide was rising, and rendering it more dangerous every moment to
those remaining on the wreck. This made the seamen hurry on along the
hawser. Dangerous was the transit, requiring a strong arm and firm
nerves. Another huge sea came rolling in. The already shattered vessel
could not withstand its force, and in a moment, as if it had been formed
of the most brittle materials, was shivered into a thousand fragments,
which came rolling on in tangled masses towards the shore.
Most of the men, and two of the officers, had reached the rocks; but the
master and one of his mates, who had refused to leave the ship till all
had left her, with two or three of the men, still remained on board at
the moment she broke up. They were now seen struggling in the waves
among the broken masses of the wreck.
In vain the brave fishermen dashed into the sea to save them. One after
the other, struck by pieces of timber, or spars, or floating packages,
were seen to go down without further efforts to save themselves. At
last, one only remained alive. On him all the interest of those on
shore was concentrated.
"Our captain, our captain," cried some of the rescued crew; "oh, how can
we save him? how can we save him?"
He seemed a fine old man, with a noble forehead and grey hair. He
reached a spar, and threw his arms over it. Thus supported, he lifted
himself out of the water, and looked calmly around, as if considering
how he might best reach the shore. The spar was sent rushing on towards
the beach. Many of his crew, all indeed who were uninjured, got ropes
ready to dash forward to his assistance. He seemed to observe the
efforts preparing to aid him. Digby was struck with the wonderful
calmness of the old man. Death and destruction on every side, he seemed
not for a moment to have lost his presence of mind. He fancied even
that he could see him smile, as the fishermen and his own people made a
rush towards him. It proved unsuccessful. He looked in no way
disconcerted. Another wave came on and carried him forward; now he
beckoned them to come to him; on they dashed. It was the work of a
moment. They seized him by the collar of his coat, and Digby saw that
they had him safely landed on the beach. Digby could not help running
forward and saying--
"I am very glad that you are saved, sir."
"Thank you, my boy," answered the old master, "if I mistake not, you are
one of the lads who saved my young Haviland there. His father will
thank you, I know. I saw it all from the wreck. Nobly done, it was!"
Digby felt highly pleased at being thus praised; not that he thought
that he had done any great thing after all.
The master having thus expressed himself, called the rescued people
round him, and spoke a few words to them, telling them how thankful they
ought to be at being saved. When he looked round and missed so many of
his late shipmates, he dashed his hand across his eyes as if he felt
severely their loss. "God's will be done," he said, in a voice
trembling with agitation. It was clear that, though his nerves were
strong, his heart was tender.
Mr Nugent, who had all along been attending to those who most required
his aid, now came forward and invited the gentleman who had been saved
and his son, as well as the old master, to his house. The chief
magistrate and other authorities of Osberton undertook to look after the
crew, while Toby and Holmes were appointed to take charge of the cargo
which might be washed on shore.
Mr Haviland and his son, as well as Captain Burton, gladly accepted Mr
Nugent's invitation, greatly to the delight of the boys, who were eager
to know where the ship had come from, and how she had been wrecked. Mr
Nugent hurried them up to his house, where he had beds immediately made
ready for them, into which he insisted on their getting, although the
old captain protested that, for his part, he was not a bit the worse for
his ducking.
That evening all the family, with the rescued strangers, were seated
round Mrs Nugent's tea-table. Mr Haviland seemed to be a very
gentlemanly person, and his son, Arthur, quickly won the regards of all
the party by his kind and gentle manners, his intelligence, and the
affectionate and dutiful way in which he treated his father. Captain
Burton was a fine old seaman; he had been so knocked about in the world,
and had met with so many adventures and mishaps, that he seemed to make
very light of the mere wreck of his ship, much as he grieved for the
loss of so many of his crew.
"We seamen know well what we have to expect one day or other. We may
well be thankful when we are able to reach the shore alive in a
civilised land," he remarked; "sad is the fate of the poor fellows who
may be cast on a barren coast, or one inhabited by savages, cannibals
may be, who may knock them on the head as soon as they set foot on
shore. Now I hope in a few days to be at home with my wife and family,
and soon to forget all my misfortunes."
The ship had come, he told them, from South America. Owing to the thick
weather, they had not made the land; though he knew that he was running
up channel, he was not aware how near the shore he was when he was
struck by the gale and dismasted. The ship in that condition, no
seamanship was of any avail to preserve her.
The next morning he and his crew took their departure from Osberton,
after he had collected all the articles of his private property which
had come on shore.
Mr Haviland gladly accepted Mr Nugent's invitation to remain some days
longer, that he might sufficiently recover his strength to enable him to
travel to London. Again and again he expressed his gratitude to Digby
for having rescued his son from the waves, and Arthur himself
endeavoured to show how much he felt, and how unable he was to repay
him.
Mr Haviland was able to repay both Toby and Holmes, as well as the
other men, in a more substantial mode, for the gallant way in which they
had exerted themselves to save him. Remittances from London supplied
him amply with funds; and all those who had assisted on the occasion of
the wreck declared, that so liberal a gentleman had never before
appeared in their town.