Part 3 (2/2)
”Ah, yes!” remarked Captain Blyth; ”you had the advantage of us there.
We had to beat the whole way from the Foreland to the Start.”
”An advantage which is more than counterbalanced by your beautiful model and your brand-new canvas,” observed Spence. ”Our sails are so worn and thin that we can almost see through them; the wind goes through them like water through a sieve. But I am just about to s.h.i.+ft them for a new suit, when I hope we shall be able to keep company with you at least as far as the line, where, if, as is most probable, we fall in with calms, I hope you and your pa.s.sengers will do me the favour to come on board and dine with us.”
”That we will, with the greatest pleasure; and you and your pa.s.sengers will, I hope, favour us with a return visit--_if, when you have bent your new canvas, you do not run away from us altogether_,” retorted Blyth. ”Meanwhile,” he continued, raising his voice as the _Flying Cloud_ drew gradually ahead of the _Southern Cross_, ”I am afraid we must say good-bye for the present, as we seem to be slipping past you.”
With this parting shot Captain Blyth again raised his cap politely, and stepped down out of the rigging on to a hen-coop, and from thence to the p.o.o.p; and so the little verbal sparring match between the rival skippers ended, each flattering himself that he had had the best of it, and that he had come out well in the eyes of the little audience before which he had been performing.
One thing, however, was certain, the _Southern Cross_ had sailed twenty- four hours before her rival, and had by that rival been overtaken and pa.s.sed--fairly outsailed; and whether Captain Spence's somewhat laboured explanation of this circ.u.mstance satisfied his pa.s.sengers or not, it a.s.suredly did not satisfy himself. He was fain to confess--to himself-- that the hitherto invincible _Southern Cross_ had at length been subjected to the ignominy of defeat. The thought was unendurable; there could be no more happiness for him until the stain had been wiped from his tarnished laurels. And to do this with the least possible loss of time he at once went about the task of s.h.i.+fting his canvas, for which, as the s.h.i.+p was now running dead before the wind, he could not have a better opportunity. It was a heavy task, and all hands were set to work upon it, the steerage pa.s.sengers--ay, and some of the gentlemen in the saloon also--so far identifying their own interests with that of the s.h.i.+p as to volunteer their services in the pulling and hauling part of the work, which enabled the skipper to send two strong gangs aloft. But it was all of no use--just then, at least. The fact was that the older suit of canvas was not nearly so unserviceable as Captain Spence chose to consider it, and the subst.i.tution of the new suit was therefore without appreciable effect--the result being that when night closed down upon the little comedy the people on board the _Southern Cross_ had the mortification of seeing the rival s.h.i.+p hovering on the very verge of the horizon ahead of them.
On board the _Flying Cloud_, on the other hand, apart from her commander there was no very great amount of enthusiasm. The pa.s.sengers were merely placidly satisfied at having outsailed a notoriously fast vessel; whilst the mates and crew were, or affected to be, supremely indifferent to the circ.u.mstance. Captain Blyth, however, made ample amends in his own person for the indifference of everybody else. He was simply exultant. Whatever might happen in the future, nothing could rob him of the right to boast that he had beaten the _Southern Cross_ in a fair trial of sailing, with the two s.h.i.+ps side by side. And with regard to the future, also, he was tolerably sanguine. It had been conclusively demonstrated that the _Flying Cloud_ was the faster s.h.i.+p of the two before the wind and in ordinary trades weather, which weather he could now depend upon until he reached the region of the calms about the line; and it was also possible that, walking away from the _Southern Cross_ at his present rate, he might get a slant across the calm belt which the other s.h.i.+p would miss, and a consequent start from thence into the south-east trades of n.o.body could say how many days. And if the worst came to the worst and he were overtaken in the calm belt, the two s.h.i.+ps would at least make a fair start of it again from the line, when he was not without hopes that the extraordinary weatherliness of his own s.h.i.+p would enable him to keep the advantage already won. So that, looking at the matter in all its bearings, he was not only fully satisfied with the past and present, but hopeful for the future. At the same time, knowing by his recent experience how hard a s.h.i.+p to beat was the _Southern Cross_, he fully realised that he must neglect no means within his power to secure to himself the victory. Nor did he. Had his life and fortune both been staked on the result of the race, he could scarcely have manifested more eagerness. Indeed, he rather overdid it, imperilling his spars by carrying a heavy press of canvas up to the last moment possible; which, as the north-east trades happened to be blowing rather fresh, involved a great deal of clewing up, hauling down, furling, and subsequently re-setting of his lighter sails, and a consequent amount of extra work for the crew which was anything but to their taste.
A week pa.s.sed thus; but on the seventh day following that on which the _Southern Cross_ had been spoken, and within an hour or two of the time when the skipper, having worked up his meridian alt.i.tude of the sun, had expressed to his pa.s.sengers a confident hope that they would have crossed the line by the time that they retired that night, the wind began to fail them, and by eight bells in the afternoon watch the s.h.i.+p was lying motionless on a sea the surface of which was smooth as polished gla.s.s, save for the undulations of the ground-swell which came creeping up to them from the northward and eastward. The sky was hazy but without a cloud, and the temperature of the motionless atmosphere was almost unbearably oppressive, the pitch melting out of the deck- seams and adhering to the shoe-soles even beneath the shelter of the awning which was spread over the p.o.o.p.
”Well, ladies and gentlemen,” said Captain Blyth as he joined his pa.s.sengers at the dinner-table that evening, ”here we are in the Doldrums, fast enough, and no mistake. The nor'-east trades brought us so close up to the line that I was in hopes they'd be accommodating enough to carry us over it. However, we mustn't grumble. We're within sixty miles of the Equator, whilst on my last outward voyage I was left becalmed close upon two hundred miles to the nor'ard of it. And we're not alone in our misery; I counted no less than fifteen sail in sight from the deck just before dark, but I couldn't make out the _Cross_ among 'em. I am in hopes of getting a start across and into the south- easters before she comes up.”
”How far astern do you think she is just now, captain?” asked Mrs Henderson.
”Not an inch less than one hundred and fifty miles, ma'am,” answered the skipper. ”And if she brings the trades as far down with her as we've done--which is doubtful--she can't reach the spot sooner than nine o'clock to-morrow evening. So we've twenty-six hours the start of her now, and I'm going to do my best to keep it.”
The saloon was far too hot for the pa.s.sengers to hold their usual concert there that evening; they therefore adjourned to the deck, and lounged there to the latest possible moment. It was a glorious night-- brilliant star-light with a young moon--the combined light enabling them to just dimly make out here and there the hull and sails of one or another of their companions in misfortune, the side-lights, green or red according to the position of the vessel, gleaming brightly and throwing long, wavering, tremulous lines of colour along the polished surface of the water. On board one of these vessels, about a mile distant, someone was playing a concertina--very creditably, too--and singing a favourite forecastle ditty to its accompaniment; and it was surprising how softly yet clearly the sounds were conveyed across the intervening s.p.a.ce of water. Singing and playing was also going on among the more distant s.h.i.+ps; but the sounds were too far removed to create the discord which would have resulted had they been near enough to mingle.
On board the _Flying Cloud_ all was silent save for the persistent ”whistling for a breeze” in which Captain Blyth indulged, mingled with the rustle and flap of the canvas overhead, and the patter of the reef- points occasioned by the pendulum-like roll of the s.h.i.+p. The water was highly phosph.o.r.escent; and the two children, carefully looked after by Mr Gaunt, were delightedly watching from the taffrail the streams of brilliant stars and haloes produced by the gentle swaying movement of the s.h.i.+p's stern-post and rudder, when far down in the liquid crystal a dim moon-like radiance was seen, which increased in intensity and gradually took form as it rose upwards until it floated just beneath the surface, its nature fully confessed by the luminosity which enveloped it from snout to tail--an enormous shark! It remained under the s.h.i.+p's counter, lazily swimming to and fro athwart the s.h.i.+p's stern, just long enough to allow the rest of the pa.s.sengers to get a good sight of it, when it suddenly whisked round and darted off at a tremendous pace toward one of the other s.h.i.+ps, leaving a long trailing wake of silver light behind it. A moment later, the sound of a heavy splash at some distance was heard; and whilst the little group of horrified spectators on board the _Flying Cloud_ were still speaking of the terrible aspect presented by the monster a shout and a shrill piercing scream came floating across the water, followed by more shouting and sounds as of the hasty lowering of a boat.
”Hark! What can that mean?” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs Gaunt.
”Sounds as though there was something wrong aboard the barque yonder, sir,” reported one of the men to the chief-mate. (Captain Blyth happened to be below at the moment.)
”Well, it's no business of ours if there is,” answered Mr Bryce, not attempting to move from his seat.
”Did you ever know such a brute as that man is?” whispered Mrs Gaunt to Miss Stanhope.
”Never,” was the reply. ”That I am free from any further a.s.sociation with him will be my most pleasant reflection when I leave the s.h.i.+p.”
The flash of oars in the phosph.o.r.escent water showed that a boat had been lowered from the barque, and she could be faintly seen pulling about for some time afterwards; but at length she returned to the s.h.i.+p.
The cheep of the tackle-blocks could be heard as she was hoisted up, and that ended the incident for the night.
On running into the calm the _Flying Cloud_ had, of course, been stripped of her studding-sails in order that she might be ready to meet the light variable airs which were all she would have to depend upon to help her across the calm belt; and about nine o'clock that evening one of these little puffs, accompanied by a smart shower of rain, came out from the westward, lasting nearly an hour, and enabling the little fleet to make some four miles of progress on their several ways, some of the vessels being bound north, whilst the others were making their way in the opposite direction.
The following morning dawned with another flat calm; but that the crews of the several s.h.i.+ps had not been idle during the night was shown by the scattered appearance of the fleet. Six of the fifteen sail counted by Captain Blyth on the previous evening were hull-down to the northward, in which direction three more vessels had put in an appearance during the hours of darkness; but these three were all in a bunch and about twelve miles to the northward and westward of the _Flying Cloud_. A solitary sail had also hove up above the southern horizon during the same period, and the remaining nine were scattered over an area of about seven miles; the barque before referred to being nearest the _Flying Cloud_, but a shade to the southward of her, showing how partial had been the light airs encountered during the night.
About four bells in the forenoon watch, that day, a few light cats'-paws were seen stealing over the surface of the water from the southward, and the sails of the several vessels were properly trimmed to meet them.
The _Flying Cloud_ happened to be heading to the westward, whilst the barque was heading east when the little breeze reached them, in consequence of which the two vessels began to approach each other on opposite tacks as soon as their canvas filled. Captain Blyth had been informed of the mysterious incident of the previous night on board the barque, and he now announced his intention of speaking her if the breeze lasted long enough to bring the two vessels within speaking distance.
It was at first doubtful if this would be the case, but when the two vessels were within about a cable's-length of each other a somewhat stronger puff came up, dying away again just as the _Flying Cloud_ was slowly pa.s.sing under the barque's stern.
The usual hails were exchanged, by means of which each captain was made acquainted with the name, destination, port sailed from, number of days out, and so on, of the other vessel (the barque turning out to be the _Ceres_, of Liverpool, bound from that port to Capetown); and then Captain Blyth continued:
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