Part 9 (1/2)
But as the day went on the stormy sky lowered yet more and more blackly, the wind, s.h.i.+fting between east and north, swooped in angry gusts across the black waters, or blew in so fierce a gale that the shallop scarcely bore her close-reefed sails, and more than once careened so as to s.h.i.+p alarming seas. The air, filled with sleet and icy snow, cut like a knife through the thickest clothing, and again Edward Tilley, swooning with exhaustion and cold, lay lifeless in the bottom of the boat, sadly watched by his brother in hardly better plight and by Carver, who, like the father of a family, carried all his children in his heart.
About the middle of the afternoon these skirmishes of the storm concentrated in one furious and irresistible attack, before which even the hardy sailors lowered their heads and clung to whatever lay nearest, while Clarke, who was steering, suddenly reeled violently against the bulwark, and recovering himself with a fearful oath seized an oar and thrusting it out astern shouted,--
”We be all dead men! The rudder has broke, and no man can steer in such a sea as this with an oar!”
”Two men may, so they be men and not cowards!” shouted John Alderton in retort, and springing to the stern he thrust out his own oar, calling to a comrade,--”Here, Cornish Jim, come you and help me, and so long as ash blades and stout arms hold we two will steer the craft.”
”Good cheer, men!” hailed Coppin from the bows where he was on the lookout. ”I see the harbor straight ahead! We are all but in! Carry on, carry on with your sails there, Clarke, and let us make the haven before the gale rises to its height.”
”She'll never carry another inch of canvas,” expostulated English as the mate shook out a reef in the mainsail, but Coppin and Clarke were now in command, since only they professed to know the coast, and the warning was unheeded, especially as the wind had for a moment lulled or rather drawn back for a more formidable spring, swooping down as the last reef point was loosed with a force that s.n.a.t.c.hed the great sail from the men's hands, and buried the nose of the shallop deep under water. The sail cracked and filled until it was tense as iron, but the honest Holland duck could not give way, and it was the mast that had to go, breaking into three pieces and falling overboard with a splintering crash. Nor was this the worst, for with the mast went the great sail with all its hamper of blocks and cordage, which, half in and half out the boat, threatened to capsize and swamp her before it could be cut away.
”Save the sail, men!” cried English through all the hubbub. ”As good lose all as lose our sail! Gather it in and stow it as best we may. Keep her before the wind, you lubbers! Handle your oars for your lives!”
For now the great boat, losing her sail, must depend upon oars, and with two men at each, and Alderton and the Cornish giant steering as best they might against a sea howling and leaping like wild beasts around them, the shattered craft drove on past the headland of Manomet, steering straight for the deadly rocks off the Gurnet's Head, which Coppin espying from the bows, he uttered a cry of dismay, shouting,--
”The Lord be merciful to our sinful souls, for I never saw this place before!”
”Breakers ahead!” shouted Clarke. ”Beach her, Alderton! Run her ash.o.r.e on yon headland! We that can swim may save ourselves! Beach her, I say!”
”And I say no such coward thing,” retorted Alderton. ”About with her, men! Row, row for your lives! Bend down to it! So! Pull, pull! I see a channel ahead and smooth water! Hold on here, Jim, till I get out another oar, this cracks! Now then! Yeo-ho! Here we go past the reef!”
And weathering Brown's Island and the Gurnet Rocks, the brave fellow steering more by instinct than sight, for darkness had fallen with the storm, the shallop struck the channel then dividing Saquish from the Gurnet, flew through it like a hunted creature, and forging past the north headland of a small densely wooded island found herself in calm water close under its lee.
”There, men, ye are safe, thanks to stout hearts and arms and good ashen blades!” exclaimed Alderton drawing his first full breath since seizing the steering oar.
”Thanks to G.o.d Almighty who still giveth His servants the victory,”
amended Carver, who had toiled with the st.u.r.diest.
”And now, where are we and what is to do next?” demanded Standish clenching his blistered hands.
”We are between two sh.o.r.es, maybe islands both, maybe the lee sh.o.r.e is the main,” replied Coppin peering through the darkness. ”And more I know not.”
”And I for one am minded to get ash.o.r.e and see if there be stuff for a fire and shelter, whatever name the place may hold,” cried Hopkins das.h.i.+ng the drops of salt water from his face and beard.
”And I,” added Standish heartily. ”What say you, Master Carver? Shall we land and make some sort of randevous upon the sh.o.r.e?”
”The place may be full of salvages, who, drawn by the light of a fire, can come upon us unaware,” replied Carver hesitatingly.
”As well risk another encounter as to perish here of cold and exhaustion,” suggested Winslow.
”Safety most often lies on the side of courage,” declared Standish sententiously.
”And Master Tilley will die if naught be done for him,” pleaded Howland, and to this consideration Carver at once yielded his careful scruples.
”Ay, John, thou 'rt right to mind me of that,” said he. ”Some of us will go ash.o.r.e and make a fire, whereat to comfort those who are overborne by cold and weariness, and some shall keep the boat until the first are refreshed, and so hold watch and watch.”
”And I will be of the first watch ash.o.r.e,” cried Clarke, the master's mate; ”for I'd twice liefer meet all the salvages of the Indies than to freeze like a clod, so here goes.” And stepping upon the gunwale he made a spring in the dark, alighting upon a slippery rock and measuring his length upon the sand. Nothing daunted, however, he grasped a handful of sand in each fist, as if his prostration had been voluntary, and springing to his feet cried in a braggadocio voice,--
”I seize this land for King James of England and for myself.”