Part 8 (1/2)

We walked on along the sh.o.r.e until stopped by the Helford river--really an arm of the sea--which we crossed in a ferry-boat. We caught sight, in the far distance to the southward, of the Manacles, a group of isolated rocks, on which more than one stout s.h.i.+p has been knocked to pieces. All along were fine romantic cliffs, the views rewarding us for our exertions. We returned on board soon after sunset, and I employed the rest of the evening in writing up my journal.

CHAPTER FIVE.

LAND'S END.

A fine, bright morning found us outside the harbour, with the Manacles on our starboard bow, steering for the Lizard, which we hoped to round before noon, so as to reach Penzance that evening. We pa.s.sed sufficiently near the Manacles to distinguish their black heads standing with threatening aspect high out of the water.

”It was there, sir, a few years ago, a large s.h.i.+p--The John--was lost during thick weather when making for Plymouth, and upwards of one hundred of her pa.s.sengers and crew perished,” observed Truck, as he pointed out the rocks to us. ”She had no business to be so close in sh.o.r.e, and that is all I can say. It is sad to think how many stout s.h.i.+ps have been cast away on the rocks about here. When we set to the Lizard we shall see the Stags.”

After pa.s.sing the Lizard we kept the land close on board. As the wind was south-west, we sailed straight for Penzance. We could distinguish high and broken cliffs of a reddish hue extending the whole way to the Lizard; when they disappeared we could perceive a low rocky point running out towards the Stags. On the summit of the cliffs which form the Lizard Head stand two lighthouses, two hundred and twenty-three feet apart. A covered pa.s.sage runs between them, in the centre of which are the residence and offices attached to the towers, so that the keepers can communicate without being exposed to the fierce gales of winter.

Each of the white towers is sixty-one feet high, and contains a brilliant fixed catoptric or reflecting light.

The Lizard is the most southerly point of England, and although it is exposed to heavy gales the climate is very healthy. Just as we were about to round the Stags the wind s.h.i.+fted, and compelled us to stand away to the southward, by doing which we hoped, aided by the next ebb, to be able to steer direct for Penzance.

Had we gone about at that time, we should have run the risk of being driven on the Stags, both wind and tide setting in that direction. The wind became very light, and we made but slow progress.

Our hopes of reaching Penzance gradually decreased as the day wore on, and yet, while the flood was making, it would have been folly to stand towards the sh.o.r.e. At length papa calculated that the tide had turned.

We were on the point of putting the vessel's head to the northward when a thick mist, driving up from the chops of the Channel, completely enveloped us, while the wind rapidly increased, as of course did the sea.

d.i.c.k, who had been walking about with his hands in his pockets, now suddenly found himself jerked here and there, and was compelled to pull them out to catch hold of anything which came in his way; sometimes a stanchion, sometimes the side of the vessel, now and then Truck, or me, or the man at the helm.

”Take care, my lad, you don't go overboard,” sang out papa. ”You'd better turn in and keep out of harm's way.”

d.i.c.k, however, was too proud to do this. ”No, thank you; I'd rather stay on deck,” he answered. ”I'll pull and haul, and help the sailors in any way you like.”

”I won't ask you to do that; only sit down on the skylight, and should a sea strike us hold on with your eyelids.”

d.i.c.k did as he was advised; at first he sat up, and looked very bold; but gradually he became paler and paler, and yellower and yellower, while his lip curled, and a groan every now and then escaped his breast.

”Hulloa! what's become of the Dolphin?” I exclaimed, looking round, and not seeing her anywhere.

”She was away to leeward of us when I went down to tea,” observed Truck, who had just then returned on deck. ”Where did you last see her?” he asked of the man at the helm.

”Maybe a couple of hundred fathoms astern, sir; but I don't think more,”

was the answer.

We hailed the Dolphin, but there was no reply. ”She was further off than you supposed,” said papa, who had himself gone below for a few minutes.

We could not understand why they did not answer our hail, for they must, we thought, have heard us. As it was important to keep as close to the wind as possible, that we might be sure of weathering the Stags, we could not run down to speak the Dolphin. Papa, however, felt sure that Uncle Tom would also keep as close to the wind as he could, with the same object in view.

We had by this time gone about, and were heading up towards the port we wished to reach. Papa judged that we were already near Mount's Bay.

d.i.c.k had thrown himself down on deck, completely overcome. I was standing by him, urging him to get up and go below, when what was my dismay to see towering above us the dark hull and wide-spreading canvas of a large s.h.i.+p.

”Steady! keep her as she goes!” papa shouted out. Had we attempted to keep away, the stranger must have struck us on our quarter. Had we luffed up, she would have run completely over us, and we should have been carried to the bottom. I fully expected even then that such would be the case.

”Run forward, my lads!” he shouted out to d.i.c.k and me and the crew, while he himself seized the helm, making the helmsman throw himself flat on his back. All was the work of a moment. In another instant I heard a cras.h.i.+ng and rending. Our boat was knocked to fragments, and the davits carried away. I saw the bowsprit sweeping across our deck, tearing the mainsail as it did so, and carrying away back-stays and other rigging.

d.i.c.k was shouting out, ”What has happened? What are we going to do?”