On sailed the boat. The black was the only person who kept his eyes
constantly moving about him. He might have suspected treachery.
Suddenly his whole manner seemed changed. He jumped to his feet
clapping his hands. "A sail--a sail," he cried. Then he sat down and
wept. All looked eagerly in the direction towards which he pointed. A
large barque was crossing their course, but how could they hope that a
small boat could be seen by the people on board at that great distance?
They got out the oars, but their strength was insufficient to go through
the movements of rowing, much less to urge on the boat. All they could
do was to sit still and wait, watching with intense eagerness every
movement of the stranger. Picture them at this juncture. On, on they
sailed. Every one felt that if they missed the vessel their fate was
sealed. A simultaneous groan escaped their bosom. She altered her
course, and was standing away from them. One of the men threw himself
down into the bottom of the boat, prepared to die. Still Jack kept his
eye on the barque. "See--see dere!" exclaimed Sambo. The barque had
hove to. Why, they could not tell, at the distance she was away. She
had done so without reference to them. Perhaps some one had fallen
overboard. How anxiously did they wait!
As they were looking a spout of water rose in the air. "Whales!
whales!" cried Sambo. "See dere is anoder." Ere long they descried a
boat rapidly approaching, urged on by some unseen power. She dashed by
them, her bows covered with foam.
Well might her crew look with surprise and horror at the hapless beings
in the Indiaman's boat. Jack and Sambo and the mate waved their hands,
their voices were too weak and hollow to be heard. "We'll come to you--
we'll come to you, poor fellows!" shouted the crew of the whale boat.
It was long, however, before the whale to which the boat was fast rose
to the surface, and lashing the sea with its tremendous tail, spouted
out its life blood and died. The whaler had made sail after her boat,
and now seeing the Indiaman's boat, took Jack and his companions on
board.
"Who sent that whale towards us when we were almost dead?" thought Jack;
as often as he asked the question the answer came: "It was God in His
great mercy guided the senseless fish that we might be saved."
There were but five survivors. One man, he whose ominous looks had made
the mate draw his pistol, had not lived to see the approach of the whale
boat. Jack and his companions were treated not unkindly on board,
though their life was a rough one. The whaler was an American, outward
bound, and five fresh hands when their strength returned were no
unwelcome addition to her crew. Their early success put all hands in
good humour, and several sperm whales were killed before they reached
their usual cruising ground on the borders of the Antarctic ice fields.
Jack was soon initiated into the mysteries of blubber cutting and
boiling, and as the dirt and oil-begrimed countenances of the men were
seen as they moved around their seething cauldrons, amid bright flames
and dense masses of smoke, they looked like spirits of evil summoned to
labour by some diabolical agency.
Several weeks thus passed by, when the whaler with a full cargo was once
more steered northward. All hands were exulting in their success. The
weather had been fine. There was every prospect of a prosperous voyage.
Cape Horn had been rounded, and they were at no great distance from the
coast of South America. Before long, however, a change took place;
thick weather came on, and for many days not a glimpse of the sun was
obtained. The master too was taken ill, and the first mate had proved
himself a bad navigator. The result was that the ship was out of her
reckoning. A gale sprung up, which, shifting to the eastward, increased
to a hurricane.
The belief was that the ship was a long way from the coast.
It was night. The darkness was intense, such as can be felt. The gale
had somewhat abated, and it was hoped that canvas might soon be got on
the ship to take her off the land, when that terror-inspiring cry arose
from forward:--"Breakers ahead!" In tones of dismay it was repeated
along the decks. "There's a watery grave for most of us then,"
exclaimed the old boatswain, near whom Jack was standing. Scarcely had
he spoken when the ship struck, and the wild sea made a clean breach
over her, washing many poor fellows to destruction. Groans of horror,
shrieks of despair rose on every side; but the sounds were quickly
silenced by the roar of the waves, the crashing of the falling sails,
and the wrenching asunder of the stout timbers. Jack clung to the
bulwarks, and as they gave way he found himself borne onward with them
through the foaming breakers into comparatively smooth water. The force
of the wind still drove him on till he felt his feet touching the hard
sand. Disengaging himself from the pieces of wreck, before the waters
returned, he was beyond their reach.
He sat down--he thought--how good God had been again to save him, and he
tried to shape his thoughts into prayer; but there had been nothing like
prayer on board the whaler, and he could not pray. For some time he sat
almost stupified; then he roused himself and listened for the sound of
some human voice to tell him that others had escaped from the wreck. "I
should go and help them if they have," he exclaimed, starting to his
feet. He ran along the beach calling out: a voice replied. He at the
same moment came across a coil of light rope. Carrying it on his arm he
hove the end of it towards the spot whence the voice came. Twice he
hove, and had again to haul it in. The third time it was seized. He
dragged on shore one of the whaler's crew. Jack placed him out of the
reach of the waves and ran on, for he thought that he heard another
person calling. Again his rope was of use. He discerned through the
darkness a large piece of the wreck. Three men were clinging to it.
One of them was Sambo. Together they continued their search for others,
venturing as far into the water as they dared. Another man was found
struggling to gain the shore. He was almost exhausted. By himself he
could not have succeeded. Jack was truly glad to find his old friend
Mr Collins, the mate of the Indiaman. After a little time he also
recovered, and together the survivors continued their search. In vain
they searched during the night. The next morning not a particle of the
wreck was found hanging together. Some dead bodies were washed on
shore, and several articles also of which the shipwrecked mariners stood
much in need were picked up, casks of provisions, clothing, tools, and
some arms and powder and shot. They had thus no fear of starving. As
soon as they had collected whatever the waves threw up they climbed to
the top of the cliffs to look around them. They were evidently in an
uncivilised part of the country, though it was well wooded and watered.
Their great fear was from the Indians, a fierce race thereabouts. The
mate, who naturally took the lead, told them that they might be able
probably to reach some of the Spanish settlements, and they resolved to
set off in search of them. It was necessary, however, that they should
lay in a store of provisions, and recover their strength for the
journey. There were numerous large trees and rocks scattered about the
shore, and the shipwrecked seamen soon discovered a cave in one of the
rocks, where they could shelter themselves from the wind and rain, and
in which they might lay up their stores.