The unhappy people were more quiet the second day than during the first;
for they were worn out with fatigue, terror, and hunger. Our ensign,
reversed, was flying, as a signal of distress, but to little purpose;
for there was no one who could see it to help us. Two more rafts were
constructed; and the carpenters set to work to raise the gunwales of the
boats, and they also nailed canvas round their sides, so as to be able
to cover them completely in.
Those in the boats appeared very uncomfortable; and certainly they were
much worse off than we were, if it had not been for the uncertainty when
the fire might break forth from beneath our feet. Every instant I
expected that to take place; and I certainly felt it difficult to say by
what means I should make my escape.
A few jars of fresh water were found in the cabin; and, among other
provisions, a cask of flour, with which the cook instantly set to work
to make bread, and the whole of the day he was engaged in making and in
baking it in the caboose. This very seasonable supply of wholesome food
kept many on board from dying.
Mr Bell took off, in the dingy, a fair proportion to the boats. The
people in them begged him to remain, telling him that the ship might
suddenly go down, and that he would be lost; but he replied that he
would not desert her and the people, and he instantly returned.
The day passed away without a sail appearing in sight; and darkness,
with its attendant horrors, again drew on. Dreadful, indeed, was that
night; but it was very different to the last. There was then excitement
and activity. Now there was a calmness--at times almost a total
silence; but it would speedily be broken by the groans of the dying, and
the wails of those who mourned for them.
All attempts to stop the progress of the fire were abandoned as useless.
The officers and crew who remained faithful to their trust, took such
rest watch and watch, as the state of the case would allow; but we were
wet through, and our bed was the hard deck.
Somewhere towards the morning, as I was still asleep, I felt my shoulder
touched, and the voice of Flint whispered in my ear, "Peter, my lad,
rouse up, and come with us. The ship won't much longer give us any
footing; and it's as well to leave her when we can."
"What do you mean, Flint?" I asked, in the same low tone. "You would
not have me quit my shipmates?"
"What I mean is, that some thirty of us--some of the crew and some
emigrants--have resolved to trust ourselves to a raft, rather than to
these burning planks; and that, if we wait till daylight, so many will
be attempting to get on it, that we shall be all lost together. I don't
ask you to desert your shipmates, Peter; but self-preservation, you
know, is the first law of nature."
I considered a moment before I spoke. "I am grateful to you, Flint, for
your kindness; but I cannot desert Mr Bell," I replied. "I don't blame
you, remember, for going; but I am differently situated. I am in the
second mate's watch--under his command, as it were; and while he sticks
to the ship, so must I."
While I was speaking, I saw a party of people cautiously engaged in
launching the raft. After no slight exertions, they succeeded in
getting into the water, though the noise they made disturbed a number of
the emigrants.
"I understand your motive, my lad, and I suppose you are right," replied
Flint. "I wish you could come with us; and I am half inclined to stay
by you--that I am."
"I should be very unhappy if you were the sufferer in consequence of so
doing," I answered; "so pray go, if you think the raft affords the
greatest safety."
"No, lad, I care little for my own safety; but I promised these people
to go with them, and to act as their captain. I did so, thinking you
would be certain to go too."
I again assured him that nothing would induce me to desert Mr Bell.
So, expressing his sorrow, he shook me warmly by the hand, and slid down
the side of the ship on to the raft. I assisted in casting it off,
before the rest of the emigrants, who were awake, discovered what they
were about, or else they would senselessly, as before, have attempted to
get on it, to the almost certain destruction of them all. Flint and his
companions hurriedly shoved off, and then hoisted their sail. I watched
the raft as long as it could be seen, standing directly before the wind
to the northward; and I remember at the time my heart misgave me, and I
feared that I should never again see my kind but eccentric friend. If a
sea should get up, I thought they in all probability would be drowned.
I felt very grateful, also, that I had decided to remain. However, I
was too weary to think much about any subject, and I was very shortly
again fast asleep on the deck.
As suffering and misery will, after a time, come to an end, and it would
be well if we could always remember this when we ourselves are in that
condition, so did this night of dark horror, and another morning dawned
on the burning wreck. Clouds, streaked with bright red edges, were
gathering on the eastern horizon, as I went aloft to look out for a
sail, though with little expectation of seeing one. I had just reached
the main-topgallant-mast head, and was sweeping my eyes round the
horizon, when I saw, just under the brightest part of the glow caused by
the rising sun, a dark spot, which I thought must be the topsail of some
square-rigged craft. I looked again; I felt that I could not be
mistaken. I shouted out the joyful intelligence--
"Sail ho!--ho!--over the larboard quarter."
Instantly the second mate, followed by several others, who had strength
remaining, ran aloft to ascertain the fact. They also all clearly saw
the ship. The people in the boats understood what we were pointing at,
and a feeble shout, indicative of their joy, rose from all hands. The
question now was, which way she was steering. If to the westward, we
had a good chance of being seen by her; but if not, she might pass us by
unheeded. This uncertainty was, perhaps, still more painful to endure
than our previous hopelessness.
While we were watching the stranger, the clouds gathered thicker in the
sky, and the sea began perceptibly to get up, though as yet there was no
increase of wind. "I don't altogether like the look of things,"
observed Derrick to me. "The sea getting up before the wind comes is a
pretty sure sign of a heavy gale; and if it does come on to blow, Lord
help us, my boy!"
"Amen," said a deep voice near us, which startled me. It seemed not
like that of a mortal; it was, however, that of Father Slattery, who was
at that instant passing us. "And so, my son, you think there is more
danger than before?" he asked.
"If it comes on to blow, and keeps blowing with a heavy sea, I say it
will be no easy matter to carry women and children from one ship to
another, even if that sail yonder should come any way nigh us; that's
what I say, your honour," answered Derrick.
"I understand you, my son," said the priest; "we'll be in a worse
position with regard to affairs temporal than we are at present."
"Yes, your honour; it looks brewing up for a regular tempest, as you
say, and no mistake," observed Derrick.
Even while they were talking, we heard the wind whistle in the rigging,
and the ship began to surge heavily through the rising waves.
The people in the boats at this were evidently alarmed, and one of the
gigs hauled alongside, several persons in her preferring to trust
themselves to the burning ship rather than to her. I must remark that a
feeling almost of security had come over many of us, and that for my
part I could not help fancying that it was nothing unusual to live on
board a ship full of fire. Of course I knew that some time or other the
flames must burst forth; but I looked upon this event as likely to
happen only in some remote period, with which I had little to do. Our
sufferings were greatest from want of water, and on that account we were
most anxious for the coming of the stranger. Mr Bell, Derrick, and I
were again aloft looking out for the ship. The captain hauled up under
the stern, and hailed to know which way we made her out to be still
standing. "Right down for us, sir," answered the mate. "She's a
barque, and seems to be coming up with a strong breeze."
It is difficult to describe how anxiously we watched for her. On she
came for perhaps half-an-hour, though to us it seemed much longer, when
suddenly we saw her, to our dismay, haul her wind and stand away to the
north-east. I felt almost as if I should fall from aloft, as our hopes
of being rescued were thus cruelly blasted. Few of the emigrants
understood the change, but the seamen did, and gave way to their
feelings in abuse of the stranger, who could not probably have seen our
signal of distress. With heavy hearts we descended to the smoking deck.
The wretched emigrants, on discovering the state of the case, gave fresh
vent to their despair; some, who had hitherto held up more manfully than
the rest, lay down without hope, and others actually yielded up their
spirits to the hands of death. Meantime the sea increased, clouds
covered the sky, and it came on to blow harder and harder. I had
returned aloft, when, to my delight, I saw the stranger again bear away
and stand for us. I shouted out the joyful information, and once more
the drooping spirits of my companions in misfortune were aroused. The
sound of a gun was heard booming along the waters. It was a sign from
her that she saw our signal of distress. Now she crowded all the sail
she could venture to carry in the increasing breeze. Her captain was
evidently a humane man anxious to relieve his fellow-creatures, though
he could scarcely have guessed at our frightful condition. There was no
mistake now, and on she came, and proved to be a large barque, as Mr
Bell had supposed.
"We have a good chance of escaping a roasting this time," I observed to
Derrick, as we watched the stranger.
"But not quite of drowning, lad," he answered. "Before one quarter of
the people about us can placed on her deck, the gale will be upon us,
and then as I said before, how are we the better for her being near us?
Howsomdever, we'll do our best, lad; and if the old ship goes down, mind
you look out for a plank to stick to, and don't let any one gripe hold
of your legs."
I promised to do my best; but I confess I did not like the prospect he
held out.
The barque approached and hove to. A shout of joy escaped from the lips
of most of those on board, who had still strength to utter it. On this,
immediately Captain Swales cast off his boat, his example being followed
by the others; and without attempting to take any of the people out of
the ship, he pulled on board the stranger. There was little time to
lose; for scarcely had they got alongside than down came the gale upon
us.
In the condition our ship was, the only course was to run before the
wind; so we once again kept away. The stranger soon followed; and as
she carried more sail than we could, we saw she would soon pass us.
Hope once more deserted us; for it was possible that the master, finding
that there were so many of us on board, might think himself justified,
for the safety of his own people, to leave us to our fate. I confess
that on this I regretted that I had not gone off with Silas Flint on the
raft; but then I remembered that I had done my duty in sticking to my
ship to the last. It seemed dreadful, indeed, to be thus left to
perish. However, just as the stranger was about to pass us, a man in
the rigging held up a board on which was written the cheering words, "We
will keep near you, and take you off when the weather moderates."
Suppose, I thought, the weather does not moderate till the flames burst
forth, at any moment they may break through the deck!