Part 25 (1/2)

Who would have supposed, when looking at the two vessels, that those on board the little half-crippled schooner could for a moment have contemplated with confidence a conflict with the well-found, powerful brigantine? But there was just this difference. The mids.h.i.+pmen felt that they were, to the very best of their means, performing their duty, and they felt a perfect confidence in Heaven's protecting power, while they knew that the slaver was engaged in the most nefarious of callings, and that the most abandoned miscreants composed her crew. On she came, as though triumphing in her strength. Hitherto the little wind blowing had been to the northward and east. As Adair was looking out to the northward, he observed a dark blue line coming rapidly along over the water. He pointed it out to Murray. ”Trim sails,” was the order promptly given. In another minute the little schooner, close hauled with her sails like boards, was standing away to the westward, while the brigantine lay dead to leeward at the distance of at least two miles and a half. Some minutes pa.s.sed even before she felt the breeze, and when she did it was pretty evident that it would take her many a weary hour to catch up the schooner. The mids.h.i.+pmen agreed that with the opportunity thus afforded them of getting away from the slaver, it would be the height of rashness to wait and encounter her. They felt grateful for having been thus preserved, and when the brigantine was seen to fill and keep away on her course, they could not help joining their men in giving vent to their feelings in a shout of joy. They stood on all night. Eagerly the next morning they looked out--not a sign of the brigantine was to be seen. For several days after this they were knocking about, making often very little way, and sometimes drifting back again during a calm double the distance they had made good during the last breeze.

”I do hope, sir, as how this voyage won't last much longer,” observed Needham to Adair, pointing to numberless rents and torn places in the sails. ”I don't think this here canvas would stand another stiffish gale without flying into ribbons. I've been hunting about, and I've found a spare boat's sail and some other stuff to mend them. To my mind, it's the best thing we could do before another squall catches us.”

Needham's advice was immediately taken, and the wind being very light, the sails were lowered, and all hands set to work to mend them in the best fas.h.i.+on they could. Needham having once belonged to the sailmaker's crew, was a very fair hand at the work, but the rest were anything but expert. However, all used their needles to the best of their abilities. Adair p.r.i.c.ked his fingers very often, and, as he observed, he left indisputable traces of his industry. So important was it to get their sails set again before night, that they scarcely allowed themselves time for their meals. Having done little else than drift about all day, it was with no little relief to their minds, that, just as the sun went down, they once more got the sails bent and hoisted.

Murray's s.e.xtant had been broken, and as he was leaving the _Archer_, a s.h.i.+pmate offered him his quadrant. It was a very indifferent one at best, and in one of the gales to which the _Venus_ had been subject, it had received yet further damage, so that it was often ten or even twenty miles out of adjustment. Murray and Adair never lost an opportunity of taking an observation, while they kept their reckoning with the greatest care; but, after all, they often could only guess at their position.

The weather, too, was very uncertain. Day after day down came torrents of rain--not merely English spring showers--but, as Adair observed, regular bucketsful, which compelled them to open the ports to let the water run off the decks, for fear of swamping the vessel. No people could behave better than did their little crew. Murray allowed no one to be idle. They were employed either in cleaning their arms, mending their clothes, repairing the rigging, and, when the sea was sufficiently calm, in fis.h.i.+ng. Needham kept up his own spirits, and did his best to keep up that of his messmates. However, they were to be again severely tried. One evening, early in October, scud was seen flying rapidly across the sky, while thick ma.s.ses of cloud banked up densely in the horizon. It was Adair's first watch; Murray had been about to turn in.

He cast his eyes around.

”Depend on it, Adair, we are going to have a heavy blow, a regular tornado will be down on us before long, and the sooner we make everything snug the better.”

Adair doubted whether there would be anything more than a squall. Just then the sails flapped ominously, and there was a perfect calm. The flame of a candle brought on deck would have ascended straight upwards.

”Adair, I tell you it will be down on us in a few minutes, and with terrific force too,” exclaimed Murray. ”All hands shorten sail!” Not a moment was to be lost; Needham and the rest saw that. With the exception of the fore-staysail every sail was lowered and carefully stowed; the topmasts were struck, and everything on deck was lashed and secured. All the time a dead calm continued, the atmosphere was dreadfully close, so that even on deck at times it seemed difficult to breathe, while all around became darker and darker. Suddenly a sound, like heavy thunder, was heard in the distance.

”It is the beginning of the strife--the first gun fired in action. Look there, what do you say to that?” He pointed to a bank of foam which was seen rolling up through the dense gloom towards the devoted little vessel.

”Why, I suspect that we shall find ourselves in the midst of a sea which will pretty nearly swamp us,” answered Adair.

On it came, rolling and leaping, as if eager to destroy the little craft. No sooner did her head feel the force of the gale than off, like a sea-bird on the wing, she flew before it. The fore-staysail was now stowed, for, from the fury of the tornado, it would either have been torn out of the bolt-rope or run the vessel under water. On flew the little craft, the sea every instant getting up and the wind freshening.

”Hold on, all of you; hold on for your lives!” sang out Murray with startling energy.

The caution was not ill-timed. On came a monster sea, roaring astern.

High above her quarters it rose, and down it rushed on her decks, wellnigh swamping her. All the hatches had before been secured; but, had not the ports been open, so as to allow the water immediately to run out, it would have swamped her. The half-drowned crew shook themselves as they once more emerged from the weight of water above them. Happily, none were washed away.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

IN PERILOUS CONDITION.

The little half-sinking schooner dashed on amid the raging seas, now lifted up to the summit of one surrounded by hissing foam, now sinking down into the gloomy hollow between others which seemed as if they were about instantly to engulf her. Again another sea struck her; and had not every one held on tight to the rigging or bulwarks, her deck would have been cleared, as it made a clean wash fore and aft.

”We must not run this risk again!” exclaimed Murray. ”All hands go below; one on deck is enough. I'll take the helm. No expostulation, Adair; remember, I am commanding officer. I am determined to do it.”

Adair, with a bad grace, was obliged to obey with the rest. They all went below, and Murray battened down the hatches. Las.h.i.+ng himself to the helm, he alone remained on deck through that fearful gale. The sea roared around the little vessel, the wind whistled through the shrouds, fierce lightnings darted from the dark heavy clouds, the thunder rattled in deafening peals, while deluges of rain and spray flew about his head and almost blinded him. Yet, undaunted as at the first, he stood like some spirit of the storm at his dangerous post.

Those below tried to sleep, to pa.s.s away the time, but so fearful was the tumult that sleep refused to visit even the seamen's eyes. Hour after hour pa.s.sed by. Still, by the noise and the movement of the vessel, it was too evident that the gale continued. Adair calculated that it must already be almost day. Just then the vessel became more steady, and the noise of the storm considerably diminished. Adair was surprised that Murray did not take off the hatches. He was anxious to go on deck to relieve him. He knocked and knocked again on the skylight. He called and called out again and again. There was no answer. With frantic energy he attempted to burst open the skylight.

The dreadful idea seized him that Murray, his brave and n.o.ble friend, had been washed overboard and lost.

He and his companions again knocked several times. Still there was no answer. They themselves were almost stifled with the heat of the atmosphere and the odour of the rotting tobacco and monkey-skins. ”This will never do,” exclaimed Adair, becoming more and more alarmed for Murray's safety. ”We must force the hatches off, or break our way through the skylight.” They groped about and found a handspike which had been chucked down below. ”Now, lads. Heave he!” cried Adair, and getting the end under the skylight, with a loud crash they prized it off, and one after the other sprang on deck. There stood Murray lashed to the helm, and looking more like a man in a trance than one awake.

”Hillo, where am I?” he exclaimed, gazing wildly around.

”On the deck of the _Venus_, old fellow,” answered Terence, taking him by the hand. ”Right gallantly you steered us through the gale, and as soon as it fell calm you dropped asleep, and small blame to you. We did the same below, and I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you safe: we all thought you had fallen overboard.” Murray was very much surprised to find that he had slept so long and so soundly, but he soon gave evidence that he had not had enough rest, for Adair had a mattress brought up and stretched under an awning on deck, and the moment he placed his head on it he was off again as soundly as before.

”We must turn to at the pumps, sir,” observed Needham, coming from below. ”If we don't bear a hand, I fear the craft will sink under us.”

Such it appeared would probably be the case, but no one was daunted.

All set to work and laboured away as manfully as before. When Murray awoke he found that the schooner was again almost cleared of water. The last man to leave the pumps was Wa.s.ser. He was still labouring away, when down he sank on the deck. Murray and Adair ran to lift him up. He could scarcely open his eyes, and looked thoroughly worn out. They lifted the poor fellow to the mattress from which Murray had just risen, and as soon as the fire, which had gone out, could be lighted, they made some beef broth, which they poured down his throat. They also gave him a little rum. Alick and Terence differed as to which was the best restorative, but, unlike doctors in general, they agreed to administer them alternately. Paddy wanted to give them in equal proportions--that is to say, for every cup of broth Alick gave, he wanted to give a gla.s.s of grog; but fortunately to this arrangement Murray would not consent.

He argued that one tumbler of grog, half and half, was stronger than a dozen basins of broth, and he would therefore allow only half a tumbler in the day. When Wa.s.ser was at length able to speak, to Adair's astonishment he declared in favour of the remedy of the rival pract.i.tioner, and Murray and his broth carried the day. In spite of the heat, Wa.s.ser had to be carried below, and all who could were glad to take shelter there, for down came the rain with terrific force, and continued without intermission, almost swamping the little vessel. Her crew had work enough to do all their time in keeping her clear of the water, which poured in through the leaks in bucketsful. For days and nights together no one had on a dry jacket. By such observations as they could manage to make, Murray and Adair began to suspect that all their seamans.h.i.+p was set at nought; for though they at times made some way through the water, they as quickly lost all the ground they had gained, and thus it became evident that there was a strong current against them.