Those who have never enjoyed the experience of suddenly coming upon a
treasure of enormous value, a substantial share of which one knows will
one day be one's own, will naturally suppose that the crew of the
_Yorkshire Lass_ would be one of the happiest and most contented little
communities on the face of the earth. And assuredly they ought to have
been, in so far at least as the prospective possession of great wealth
can confer happiness; for, little as any of us knew of the actual value
of the treasure we had so easily obtained, we knew enough to feel
assured that, when the time for division should arrive, we should each
be rich enough to be independent, for the rest of our lives, of any need
to work for a living. But, on the contrary, as a matter of fact the
acquisition of the treasure gave rise to a condition of restiveness and
discontent that caused me grave uneasiness.
Not that I was greatly surprised. From the moment when I first climbed
in over the brigantine's rail from the _Saturn's_ life-boat I recognised
that the presence of the four Dagoes in the ship's company was likely to
breed discord, but it was not until I witnessed the mad covetousness
with which they flung themselves upon the chest containing coin, and
proceeded to help themselves regardless of the rights of us others, that
I actually began to scent real, serious trouble; for I then foresaw
that, having once glimpsed the treasure, those men would never more be
content until it was actually theirs to squander in the debauchery that
they called pleasure.
The trouble which I anticipated developed within twenty-four hours of
our departure from the estuary, first taking the form of a demand, on
the part of the six seamen in the forecastle, that the division of the
treasure should be effected forthwith; and when I pointed out that,
owing to the impossibility of justly valuing such articles as gold and
silver candlesticks, salvers, bowls, cups, caskets, jewelled crosses,
articles of jewellery and gems, such a division as they desired was out
of the question, they insisted that the ship should forthwith be taken
to the nearest civilised port, in order that the treasure might be
turned into money, and the division effected. To this I replied that
only in London would it be possible to obtain anything approaching fair
value for so enormous a treasure as ours, therefore to London I intended
to take it; whereupon the Dagoes became so violently insubordinate that
forcible measures had to be resorted to, and a very pretty fight ensued
between them on the one hand, and the boatswain, carpenter, and myself
on the other before we succeeded in putting the quartette in irons and
dumping them down upon the ballast in the main hold, where, I informed
them, they would remain until they should show unmistakable signs of
having come to their senses. Such resolute action, coupled with the
fact that during their confinement their food consisted solely of coarse
ship biscuit and water, soon brought the insubordinate ones to their
bearings, a message of unconditional surrender being brought from them
to me within thirty-six hours of their confinement, promising good
behaviour in the future if I would release them and permit them to
return to duty.
Naturally I was more than willing to accept the olive branch thus held
out, for the absence from duty of four able seamen out of our little
company left the ship perilously undermanned, and would have involved us
in serious difficulties, might indeed have imperilled the safety of the
ship, had we fallen in with bad weather. Fortunately, however, the
weather, for the first week after our departure from the estuary, proved
to be almost too fine for our liking, consisting as it did of light,
baffling contrary airs, interspersed with spells of calm; thus the
temporary confinement below of the four foreigners proved of no
disadvantage to us, although I was heartily glad to have them back on
duty again. Nevertheless it soon became apparent that their reformation
was, like beauty, only skin-deep, and that at heart they were as ready
as ever to give trouble.
The exceptionally fine weather, to which I have just referred, continued
for nearly a month, during which, with much pulling and hauling at
tacks, sheets, and braces, we contrived to jockey the brigantine fairly
into the Pacific, where I intended to hunt up a cargo of copra,
sandalwood, and shell on the way home.
But such an extraordinarily long spell of fine weather as we had been
experiencing was bound to break, sooner or later, and the break came
during the afternoon of our twenty-seventh day out. The barometer,
which for nearly three weeks had been standing well above thirty inches,
gave us the first warning of the coming change by an ominously rapid
decline of the mercury, which was quickly succeeded by a subtle veiling
of the sky, the clear, rich blue of which gradually changed to a uniform
tint of dirty white, in the midst of which the sun hung a mere shapeless
blotch. The light breeze that during the earlier part of the day had
been fanning us along at a scant three knots, died away, leaving the
surface of the sea oil-smooth and colourless, while the stagnant air
grew so hot that we literally felt the heat of it in our nostrils with
every breath we drew. The _quality_ of the air seemed to change, too,
rendering it difficult to breathe, so that we found ourselves gasping
for breath at frequent intervals, while perspiration poured from us in
streams that we could distinctly feel trickling down our bodies and
limbs. So enervating were the conditions that none of us cared to make
the slightest unnecessary movement; yet the steady decline of the
mercury was a warning that I dared not ignore. Accordingly, at eight
bells in the afternoon watch, when Enderby took charge of the deck, I
showed him the barometer, expressed the conviction that we were in for a
typhoon, and instructed him to set all hands to the task of stripping
the ship to a close-reefed topsail, reefed fore topmast-staysail, and
close-reefed main trysail.
When the boatswain went for'ard and gave the necessary orders, the men
received them, as I had quite expected, with black looks, muttered
curses, and inarticulate growls; but the sight of Chips and me lowering
and stowing the big mainsail while they surlily slouched about the deck,
letting go halliards, clewing up and hauling down; and perhaps, more
than all, the aspect of the heavens, conveying a message that no man
could misinterpret, caused them somewhat to modify their attitude, and
by four bells the ship was as nearly ready for what might come as we
could make her.
But our preparations were completed not a moment too soon, for we were
in a latitude where twilight is unknown, and with the disappearance of
the sun below the horizon there closed down upon us a darkness that
might literally be felt, for any attempt to move about the decks, well
as we believed ourselves to be acquainted with them, resulted in
constant collisions with unexpected obstacles.
This bewildering state of affairs continued until shortly after five
bells in the first watch, when we became aware that the atmosphere was
being subtly and gradually suffused with ruddy light, coming from we
knew not where. The change was so gradual that it was impossible to say
just when it began, but within half an hour of our first perception of
it the light had grown so strong that not only were we able to move
about freely without running foul of things but, standing aft by the
useless wheel and looking forward, every detail of the ship's hull,
spars, sails, and rigging stood out clearly and sharply, like a
silhouette cut out of black paper, against a background of shining oil-
smooth water and dense masses of twisting and writhing cloud-shapes all
reflecting the weird, mysterious ruddy light. It was an awe-inspiring
phenomenon, strongly suggestive of the supernatural, and from the uneasy
glances that were directed aft from the forecastle it was not difficult
to surmise that none of the men had ever before beheld anything like it.
Neither had we of the afterguard, for that matter, and I have no doubt
that I should have been very much more seriously alarmed than I was at
the spectacle, had I not read somewhere the description of a hurricane
that had been similarly heralded. As it was, I was by no means happy at
the prospect of what was in store for us, asking myself uneasily whether
quite all had been done that it was possible to do to prepare the ship
for the impending ordeal. There was but one thing I could think of, and
that was to order all the scuttles to be securely closed, and this was
at once done, although it rendered the cabins insupportably hot and
close. Of course I should have liked to send down the royal and
topgallant yards, and to have housed the fore topgallant mast and main
topmast, and I would have attempted it had we had a decently willing
crew; but I doubted whether the Dagoes would have undertaken the job,
except under compulsion; and I was unwilling to engage in a tussle with
a crowd of insubordinates with a hurricane threatening to burst upon us
at any moment.
Naturally, under the circumstances I never dreamed of turning in; nor
did any of the others, for that matter, the boatswain and Chips keeping
me company aft, while a glance for'ard showed that even the forecastle
bunch, jealous as they were of their "rights", preferred for once in a
way to spend their watch below on deck. Shortly after midnight the
weird, ruddy light began to fade, indicating that the crisis was
approaching. I accordingly sent the boy Billy below, secured the
companion doors, and closed the slide, knowing this to be one of the
ship's most vulnerable points in a heavy sea, such as one might expect
when the gale should burst upon us, and thereafter there was nothing
more to be done but to abide events.
It was about half an hour later, and the light had almost entirely
faded, when we got our first distinct warning to "stand by". It came in
the form of a sudden scurry of wind, apparently from nowhere in
particular, that swept, whining and moaning, over the ship, causing the
canvas to flap violently--and then it was gone. This occurred perhaps
half a dozen times, each gust lasting a few seconds longer and being
perceptibly stronger than the one which preceded it, smiting the canvas
with such violence that I quite expected to see it fly out of the bolt-
ropes, while the brigantine, being only in ballast, rocked and staggered
like a drunken man. Fortunately, there remained just light enough to
enable us to trace the direction from which those tornadoes came. With
their help, therefore, Chips and I, who at once sprang to the wheel,
managed to get the ship's head round before the hurricane itself struck
us, Enderby going for'ard to stand by on the forecastle.
It announced its approach by a low, weird, unearthly moaning that with
terrifying rapidity swelled to a deafening compound of the shrieking
yell of the swooping wind and the hiss of the tempest-lashed sea as it
rushed, in the form of a wall of ghastly, heaped-up, phosphorescent foam
stretching from horizon to horizon, straight down upon the ship. The
spectacle of that unbridled outburst of elemental fury was awe-inspiring
beyond the power of words to describe, but it was terrifying too, as was
evidenced by Chips' remark, a moment before the gale struck us. Leaning
over toward me as we stood on opposite sides of the wheel, he yelled:
"Good-bye, sir! This is the finish. The ship ain't built that could
weather such an outfly as this!"
And I felt very much inclined to agree with him. To me it seemed
impossible that any combination of wood and metal, the work of men's
hands, however cunningly fashioned and deftly put together, could
withstand such a frenzied onslaught as that which was about to burst
upon us.
Another instant and we were within the hurricane's clutches. With a
yell of indescribable fury the blast struck us, and as the storm-wave
boiled in over our taffrail and swept along the deck, filling it to the
level of the rail and taking with it in its rush for'ard every movable
thing in its way, I saw the storm trysail fill, with a terrific jerk of
the doubled sheets, and then go flying away out of the bolt-ropes like a
sheet of tissue paper. Whether or not the remainder of our canvas had
withstood the strain I could not for the moment determine, for I was up
to the armpits in the surging water, pinned by it and the pressure of
the wind so hard up against the wheel that I momentarily expected to
feel my breast-bone collapse under the pressure. Luckily the gale came
up square astern, and hit us end-on; luckily, also, we were in ballast,
and the ship was therefore quite lively; nevertheless I felt the hull
under my feet tremble perceptibly under the tremendous strain to which
it was subjected as the wind and sea smote her, and for a few breathless
moments I believed she was foundering under us. Then, as she gradually
freed herself of the water that flooded her decks, she gathered way and
went foaming off before the gale like a mad thing.
The next occurrence of which I was clearly conscious was that Chips was
again leaning over toward me and shouting:
"My God! Mr Blackburn, that was a narrer squeak, if ever there was
one! If anybody had told me that the old hooker would have stood it, I
wouldn't ha' believed 'em. But I think we're all right now, so long as
we can keep her runnin' afore it, if only the spars and riggin' 'll
stand the strain. But what about what's ahead of us, sir? Is there
anything that we're likely to run foul of?"
"Nothing, so far as I know," answered I. "The chart shows a clear sea
for some hundreds of miles to the eastward; and before we have run that
distance the gale will have blown itself out. But there is Enderby
trying to claw his way aft. I wonder what news he has for us."
The unnatural, ruddy light in the sky had by this time quite died out,
but it was replaced by a faint, ghostly sheen emitted by the foaming
surface of the wind-scourged sea, and by this feeble radiance it was
just possible to discern the burly form of the boatswain laboriously
clawing aft along the port bulwarks against the tremendous pressure of
the wind. Presently he reached us and seated himself upon the wheel
grating at my feet, gasping and panting for breath.
"Well, Enderby," I shouted, "what's the news from the fore end of the
ship? Did the sea that pooped us do any damage?"
"Not so much as might ha' been expected," returned the boatswain. "The
jolly-boat's clean gone; the life-boat's a wreck; the to'gallant
bulwark, both sides, is gone, for'ard of the fore riggin'; the staysail
blowed out of the bolt-ropes directly the gale struck us; and--worst of
all--we've lost three of our little crowd."
"Lost!" I ejaculated. "What d'ye mean, man?"
"Just what I says, Mr Blackburn," answered the boatswain. "We've lost
three hands--Van Haalst, Mendal, and Manning. The sea that broke aboard
us must have took 'em unawares and swept 'em over the bows, for they was
on deck before we was swept, and when she cleared herself they was
gone!"
"Jove! that's bad news indeed," said I. "We were short-handed enough
before, but we shall be worse off than ever now. And they were all good
men, too; we can ill spare them."
"Ay," agreed Enderby; "there's others that we could better have spared,
if some of 'em had to go. But as to them bein' good men--well, they was
good enough sailor-men, I won't deny, but if we'd lost 'em any other way
than bein' drownded--if they'd cut and run, for instance--I wouldn't ha'
grieved overmuch at the loss of the two Dagoes."
Thereupon we fell silent, for to out-shout the yell of the wind and the
roar of the sea was no easy matter; moreover the loss of those three men
set me thinking, and on top of that the ship needed most careful
watching, for, in light trim as she was, there were moments when the
rudder seemed to lose control of her, and then it taxed our skill and
strength to the utmost to prevent her broaching to, which would have
meant the end of her and of all hands.
I shall never forget that night, so long as I live. Never before had I
known it blow anything like so hard; the wind smote one like something
solid and with such tremendous force that to have stood up, unsupported,
against the pressure of it, would have been impossible. If it had been
blowing, say, half as hard as it actually was, there would have been a
terrific sea running, but, far from this being the case, the surface of
the ocean was as flat as a billiard-table, the slightest roughness being
instantly seized by the wind and swept away to leeward in the form of
scud-water.
Then there was the appalling unnatural darkness, through which the ship
was rushing at a speed which I am certain she had never before attained.
The only mitigating circumstance was that the wind-lashed sea emitted a
certain ghostly radiance that, despite the deluge of spindrift and scud-
water with which the air was saturated, enabled one dimly to discern
objects as far forward as the foremast. But to rush, at the speed at
which we were travelling, into the heart of that pitchy blackness was
nerve-racking work, for although the chart assured us that we had a
clear sea for some hundreds of miles ahead, there were still such
possibilities as derelicts to be reckoned with, and under such
circumstances as I have been endeavouring to describe, if an obstacle of
any sort should happen to be in our way, to avoid it would be a sheer
impossibility, while to strike it would mean for us simply--destruction.
I was anxiously considering the chance of such an eventuality when
another terrific gust swooped down upon us; the ship trembled and
lurched forward as though she were about to plunge to the bottom and
have done with it; I heard a loud "crack" behind me, and simultaneously
received a terrible blow on the back of the head; then--oblivion.
A dull, aching, throbbing pain at the back of my head was the sensation
of which I was first conscious upon awaking from what seemed to have
been a sleep haunted by innumerable harrowing nightmares. Then, before
I had time to fully realise that I was once more awake and free from the
torment of those dreadful nightmares, I became aware of two things;
first, that a soft, warm, salt-laden breeze was gently fanning my face
and affording me much refreshment, and next, that the air was vibrant
with the deep, booming thunder of heavily breaking surf. I was aware
also that I was in bed, and that, apart from my throbbing headache, I
was quite comfortable; and for perhaps two or three minutes I remained
as I was, quiescent, enjoying the sensation of comfort, quite oblivious
of everything else. Then it suddenly occurred to me to wonder where I
was, what was the matter with my head--and back came the memory of that
awful night of hurricane--that terrible blow on the back of my head--
and, opening my eyes, I started up, with an inarticulate cry.
That is to say I _attempted_ to start up--but failed: my body felt like
lead; I had no strength to move it, and after a moment's ineffectual
struggle I abandoned the attempt and let my head sink back upon the
pillow. As I did so I became aware of a slight movement at my side and,
glancing in that direction, I saw the boy Billy bending over me with an
expression of deep anxiety in his eyes. As he continued to gaze, the
expression of anxiety gave place to one of satisfaction, and he said:
"Ah, that's better, Mr Blackburn! I believe you're not going to die
yet, after all."
"Going to die!" I reiterated. "Have I been ill, then?"
"You _have_, and no mistake!" emphatically asserted the boy. "For four
days and nights you have been just raving; and all the while you refused
to take anything but an occasional drink of water. No wonder you found
yourself too weak to rise just now."
"By Jove!" ejaculated I, "you amaze me, Billy. But--I am puzzled. I am
in my own bunk, in my own cabin; there is a nice breeze blowing, for I
can feel it coming through the open scuttle, and I hear the seething of
water along the ship's side, yet I'll swear she is not moving an inch.
What is the explanation?"
"I'll tell you in a minute or two," answered Billy. "But, first, let me
get you some broth, for I can see that you're about done up, and need
something to strengthen you. I thought, this morning, that you seemed a
bit different, and when you stopped raving and dropped off to sleep I
seized the chance to get something ready for you against the time when
you woke up. I'll fetch it in half a jiffy."
So saying, Billy disappeared into the main cabin, returning a minute or
two later with a bowl of steaming-hot, savoury-smelling soup, with
which, after propping me up with cushions, he cautiously fed me, a
little at a time, until he thought I had taken as much as was good for
me. Then, removing the cushions, he lowered me gently back into a
reclining position, made me comfortable and, seating himself by my
bedside, proceeded to make me acquainted with the happenings succeeding
my accident.