Part 16 (1/2)
Nor is he called on to resist the charges of cavalry, nor to form hollow squares on the deadly battle-field.”
The stranger smiled. ”We often find it hard enough,” said he, ”to resist the charges made against us by our officers; the hollow squares form themselves in our stomachs when we are on short rations; and I have known many a man who would rather walk twenty miles than sail one, especially when the sea chops.”
”I am very sure, sir,” said school-master Cardly, ”that there is nothing to be said against the endurance and the courage of marines. We all remember how they presented arms, and went down with the _Royal George_.”
The marine smiled.
”I suppose,” said the blacksmith, ”that you never had to do anything of that sort?”
The stranger did not immediately answer, but sat looking into the fire.
Presently he said: ”I have done things of nearly every sort, although not exactly that; but I have thought my s.h.i.+p was going down with all on board, and that's the next worst thing to going down, you know.”
”And how was that?” inquired Fryker.
”Well,” said the other, ”it happened more times than I can tell you of, or even remember. Yes,” said he, meditatively, ”more times than I can remember.”
”I am sure,” said the school-master, ”that we should all like to hear some of your experiences.”
The marine shrugged his shoulders. ”These things,” said he, ”come to a man, and then if he lives through them, they pa.s.s on, and he is ready for the next streak of luck, good or bad. That's the way with us followers of the sea, especially if we happen to be marines, and have to bear, so to speak, the responsibility of two professions. But sometimes a mischance or a disaster does fix itself upon a man's mind so that he can tell about it if he is called upon; and just now there comes to my mind a very odd thing which once happened to me, and I can give you the points of that, if you like.”
The three men a.s.sured him that they would very much like it, and the two women looked as if they were of the same opinion.
Before he began the marine glanced about him, with a certain good-natured wistfulness which might have indicated, to those who understood the countenances of the sea-going cla.s.ses, a desire to wet his whistle; but if this expression were so intended it was thrown away, for blacksmith Fryker took no spirits himself, nor furnished them to anybody else. Giving up all hope in this direction, the marine took a long pull at his pipe and began.
”It was in the winter of 1878 that I was on the Bay of Bengal, on my way to Calcutta, and about five hundred miles distant from that city. I was not on my own s.h.i.+p, but was returning from a leave of absence on an American steamer from San Francisco to Calcutta, where my vessel, the United States frigate _Apache_, was then lying. My leave of absence would expire in three days; but although the _General Brooks_, the vessel I was aboard of, was more of a freight than a pa.s.senger vessel, and was heavily laden, we would have been in port in good time if, two days before, something had not happened to the machinery. I am not a machinist myself, and don't know exactly what it was that was out of order, but the engine stopped, and we had to proceed under sail. That sounds like a slow business; but the _Brooks_ was a clipper-built vessel with three masts and a lot of sails--square sails, fore-and-aft sails, jib sails, and all that sort of thing. I am not a regular sailor myself, and don't know the names of all the sails; but whatever sails she could have she did have, and although she was an iron vessel, and heavily freighted, she was a good sailer. We had a strong, steady wind from the south, and the captain told me that at the rate we were going he didn't doubt that he would get me aboard my vessel before my leave ran out, or at least so soon afterward that it wouldn't make any difference.
”Well, as I said, the wind blew strong and steady behind us, the sails were full, and the spray dashed up at our bow in a way calculated to tickle the soul of any one anxious to get to the end of his voyage; and I was one of that sort, I can tell you.
”In the afternoon of the second day after our engine stopped, I was standing at the bow, and looking over, when suddenly I noticed that there wasn't any spray das.h.i.+ng up in front of the vessel. I thought we must have struck a sudden calm, but, glancing up, I saw the sails were full, and the wind blew fair in my face as I turned toward the stern. I walked aft to the skipper, and touching my cap, I said, 'Captain, how is it that when a s.h.i.+p is das.h.i.+ng along at this rate she doesn't throw up any spray with her cut.w.a.ter?' He grinned a little, and said, 'But she does, you know.' 'If you will come forward,' said I, 'I'll show you that she doesn't,' and then we walked forward, and I showed him that she didn't. I never saw a man so surprised. At first he thought that somebody had been squirting oil in front, but even if that had been the case, there would have been some sort of a ripple on each side of the bow, and there wasn't anything of the kind. The skipper took off his cap and scratched his head. Then he turned and sang out, 'Mr. Rogers, throw the log.'
”Now the log,” said the marine, turning to Mrs. Fryker and her daughter, ”is a little piece of wood with a long line to it, that they throw out behind a vessel to see how fast she is going. I am not a regular Jack Tar myself, and don't understand the principle of the thing, but it tells you exactly how many miles an hour the s.h.i.+p is going.
”In about two minutes Mr. Rogers stepped up, with his eyes like two auger-holes, and said he, 'Captain, we're makin' no knots an hour.
We're not sailing at all.'
”'Get out,' roared the captain, 'don't you see the sails? Don't you feel the wind? Throw that log again, sir.'
”Well, they threw the log again, the captain saw it done, and sure enough Mr. Rogers was right. The vessel wasn't moving. With a wind that ought to have carried her spinning along, miles and miles in an hour, she was standing stock-still. The skipper here let out one of the strongest imprecations used in navigation, and said he, 'Mr. Rogers, is it possible that there is a sand-bar in the middle of the Bay of Bengal, and that we've stuck on it? Cast the lead.'
”I will just state to the ladies,” said the marine, turning toward the table, ”that the lead is a heavy weight that is lowered to the bottom of a body of water to see how deep it is, and this operation is called sounding. Well, they sounded and they sounded, but everywhere--fore, aft, and mids.h.i.+p--they found plenty of water; in fact, not having a line for deep-sea sounding they couldn't touch bottom at all.
”I can tell you, ladies and gentlemen,” said the marine, looking from one to the other of the party, ”that things now began to feel creepy. I am not afraid of storms, nor fires at sea, nor any of the common accidents of the ocean; but for a s.h.i.+p to stand still with plenty of water under her, and a strong wind filling her sails, has more of the uncanny about it than I fancy. Pretty near the whole of the crew was on deck by this time, and I could see that they felt very much as I did, but n.o.body seemed to know what to say about it.
”Suddenly the captain thought that some unknown current was setting against us, and forcing the vessel back with the same power that the wind was forcing her forward, and he tried to put the s.h.i.+p about so as to have the wind on her starboard quarter; but as she hadn't any headway, or for some other reason, this didn't work. Then it struck him that perhaps one of the anchors had been accidentally dropped, but they were all in their places, and if one of them had dropped, its cable would not have been long enough to touch bottom.
”Now I could see that he began to look scared. 'Mr. Browser,' said he, to the chief engineer, 'for some reason or other this s.h.i.+p does not make headway under sail. You must go to work and get the engine running.' And for the rest of that day everybody on board who understood that sort of thing was down below, hard at work with the machinery, hammering and banging like good fellows.
”The chief officer ordered a good many of the sails to be taken in, for they were only uselessly straining the masts, but there were enough left to move her in case the power of the current, or whatever it was that stopped her, had slackened, and she steadily kept her position with the breeze abaft.
”All the crew, who were not working below, were crowded together on deck, talking about this strange thing. I joined them, and soon found that they thought it was useless to waste time and labor on the machinery. They didn't believe it could be mended, and if it should be, how could an engine move a vessel that the wind couldn't stir?
”These men were of many nationalities--Dutch, Scandinavian, Spanish, Italian, South American, and a lot more. Like many other American vessels that sail from our ports, nearly all the officers and crew were foreigners. The captain was a Finlander, who spoke very good English.