The buoyant boat, though half filled with water, floated on the crest of
a wave. Vainly the skulkers from duty, the mad drunkards shrieked for
help. None could be given them. In another moment their cries were
silenced in death. The boat and those in her were all that remained of
the _Hope_. By constant baling, and by keeping her head to the seas,
she with difficulty floated: still she lived. The fury of the tempest
began to abate. Jack told his companions how, under similar though
still worse circumstances, he had once in the South Atlantic been
mercifully preserved, and his account kept up their spirits. Did Jack
preach to them, as some would call it? No. He spoke the simple honest
truth as it came swelling up pure from his grateful heart, the
convictions of his mind, and he would have been very much surprised if
any body had told him that he was acting the parson. He would have
asked in what the likeness lay, and would have been sorely puzzled to
discover it. The boat drove on before the remnant of the gale. She was
still many hundred miles from any land. The captain resolved to steer
for the Cape of Good Hope. Many were the hardships they might expect to
encounter before they could reach it. Still they kept up their spirits.
They had provisions for many days. They agreed to husband them to the
utmost. They told tales to each other; some were true, their own
adventures, and those of old companions; others were mere fiction. They
recited poetry. They even sang songs, though their voices sounded
strangely in the wild waste of waters in which they floated.
The gale subsided, the sea went down, and the boat was steered a direct
course to the westward. Still she made slow progress. A sail had been
secured, but it was a small one for the light wind then blowing, and
their strength was too much exhausted to enable them to urge her on much
faster by pulling. Day after day their provisions decreased, and they
grew weaker and weaker. Still no one had hitherto suffered in health.
Some showers which fell enabled them to replenish their stock of water.
Who can tell the value of that pure liquid to those living under the
burning sun of the tropics! They knew it well. Though they had water
for the present, their provisions they were aware must soon fail them.
They bethought them of trying to catch fish. Lines they could easily
manufacture out of the ropes in the boat, but hooks cost them much
thought. At last a file was found in a pocket knife, and some nails
were drawn from a piece of plank hove carelessly into the boat.
Scarcely had the baits been thrown overboard than a tug was felt and a
fine fish was hauled up. Several were thus caught. They were dried in
the sun and served them for many a meal. Days passed and none were
caught, then again they fell in with a shoal and many were hauled up.
The spirits of the crew rose, they no longer doubted that they should
reach their destination. Still they did not relax in their efforts to
procure food or to reach land. Their strength, however, gradually
decreased, and very slow was the progress they made or could hope to
make even if the weather continued favourable.
What is more uncertain than the wide ocean? While they were
congratulating themselves on their prospects, dark clouds were seen to
rise in the west, heavy seas increasing in height came rolling towards
them, and once more a heavy gale blew in their teeth. They could no
longer carry sail, and all the strength they could exert was scarcely
sufficient to enable them to keep the boat head to sea. "Then they
cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them out of their
distress." So will He always do to those who trust in Him. Let that
belief never depart from any who read this story. Cling to it, rejoice
in it. Let nothing tear it from you. Satan will strive to do so, the
world will try to do so. Jack and his companions found in it their only
support. Without it they must have sunk under the sufferings they had
to endure. Even though their boat swam they could no longer replenish
their scanty stock of food; they had scarcely any water; their strength
almost failed them; black clouds were overhead, dark threatening walls
of water encompassed them around. Still hand and eye, and nerve and
muscle must be exerted to keep the boat from swamping.
The fourth night of the gale was approaching when, as the captain was
standing up supported by his crew to take a glance round the horizon as
the boat rose to the summit of a sea, his eye fell on the dark sail of a
ship seen under the sinking sun. She must, they knew, be approaching
them; but might she not too probably pass by them in the dark? How
their hearts beat with alternate hopes and fears. On she came, flying
before the gale. They stood up, they waved, some shouted. Now, on the
top of a foaming wave, they could see her; now, sunk into the trough,
they lost fight of her altogether. Did she see them? Earnestly they
prayed to heaven that she might. God is ever merciful to those who call
upon him faithfully. On she came.
"We are seen, we are seen!" they shouted. They knew her to be a British
sloop of war. The courses were brailed up, the topsails closely reefed,
and she was brought to the wind, so that they might pull up under her
lee. Renewed strength for the operation was given them, and every help
being afforded from the ship, they were soon in safety on her deck.
Scarcely had they gained it ere they sank down through weakness, but
many sank on their knees to return thanks to Him whose right arm had
saved them.
Jack found several old messmates from the _Tribune_, who had been turned
over from her to the _Flora_, the ship which had saved him. So firmly
had they been convinced that he had been lost, that they could at first
scarcely believe him when he told them who he was. He at once entered
gladly on board, and the rest of the brig's crew were not slow to follow
his example. Many a gallant action was the _Flora_ engaged in before
the close of the war. Long, indeed, was it, as Jack had anticipated,
before he again saw his native land.
The _Flora_ was in company with several other ships of war, when it was
resolved to endeavour to cut out a number of privateers and merchantmen,
known to be at anchor in one of the ports of the enemy guarded by a
battery. The boats of the squadron were sent in to effect this object.
In silence and darkness, with muffled oars they approached the shore.
Jack was in one of the leading boats. The armed vessels were to be
first attacked, and as the wind blew off shore it was hoped that they
might be carried out in spite of the fire from the fort. The tracery of
the masts and spars and rigging of the vessels could be seen rising up
against the sky, the dim outline of the dark frowning forts, and the
rocks and hills on the opposite side of the harbour, with here and there
a faint light glimmering from some lone cottage on the hill side. Their
approach was unsuspected, nor did watchful sentry challenge them as they
entered the harbour. Two boats attacked each vessel. Silently they ran
alongside, and were on board in a moment. Then the enemy's crews sprang
to their arms and defended themselves with desperation, but of their
officers some were on shore, others below, and British valour quickly
silencing all opposition, the deck was won. Lustily the English seamen
cheered, for there was no necessity for further concealment; the cables
were cut, the sails let fall, and the prize, a fine sloop of sixteen
guns was moving through the water, when those on board felt her tremble
through every timber.
"To the boats, to the boats," shouted the officers.
The men sprang over the bulwarks. Up lifted her deck. It seemed by
some mighty force to be wrenched open. High into the air were thrown
many of the late combatants together. A loud thundering noise was
heard. Flashes of flame burst forth and ascended in a fiery spout
towards the sky, widening as it rose, carrying with it spars and sails,
and pieces of timber and human forms, mangled, burnt, and torn asunder,
and groans, and shrieks, and cries filled the air. Jack felt himself
lifted up just as he was leaping overboard. He threw himself forward.
He seemed as if he was carried up amid the burning fragments, and then,
his clothes already on fire, he was plunged into the water. Down he
sank. His impulse was to strike out, and on rising to the surface he
looked around and made towards the nearest boat, on whose side the ruddy
glare of the fire shone brightly. Several of his shipmates were in her,
and a few of the enemy whom they had picked up. They hauled him on
board as they went to search for more of their companions. When no
others were to be found they dashed alongside another of the enemy's
vessels. Meantime the fort had opened its fire. Notwithstanding this
several vessels were carried out, though few escaped without some shot
in hull or rigging, Jack got a wound in his arm.
"Bind it up tight," said he to a shipmate, "I want the use of it just
now."
Two officers were killed, and several badly wounded. Some honour and a
good supply of prize money was the chief result of the affair.
Some time after this, on her passage home, the _Flora_ fell in with an
enemy. She gave chase and was not long in coming up with her, when it
was discovered that her opponent was of far greater size, and had
heavier metal, and many more men. Did this disconcert her officers and
crew? Far from it. With even greater than their usual alacrity they
went to their guns.
"What care we though the odds are against us! More is the glory to be
gained," was the general remark.
They ranged up alongside the enemy. Their cool and well-directed fire
carried away her foremast. Then they passed ahead of her, and she
flying up into the wind they raked her with terrific effect. Still she
was not idle, and many of their crew were struck down to rise no more.
Jack got a severe wound in the leg. He bound his handkerchief round it.
"Never mind," he sung out; "we must take the enemy, and then think about
our hurts."
He repeated but the sentiments of his gallant captain, who, twice
wounded, fought on till a shot brought him a third time to the deck.
"See, see, we have not fought in vain," he shouted, as at the same
moment the enemy's colours were struck. The victory was won, though
hardly won, and at length the _Flora_ and her prize entered Plymouth
Sound. The war was over, the last shot had been fired, peace, a truly
glorious peace, was proclaimed. His ship was paid off, and Jack found
himself, for the first time in his life, free and on shore.