Part 11 (1/2)

”Come, lads,” cried Ruby, leaping out of his hammock, ”there's nothing like a vigorous jump to put sea-sickness to flight.”

”Humbug!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bremner, who owned a little black dog, which lay at that time on the pillow gazing into his master's green face, with wondering sympathy.

”Ah, Ruby,” groaned the smith, ”it's all very well for a sea-dog like you that's used to it, but--”

James Dove stopped short abruptly. It is not necessary to explain the cause of his abrupt silence. Suffice it to say that he did not thereafter attempt to finish that sentence.

”Steward!” roared Joe Dumsby.

”Ay, ay, s.h.i.+pmate, what's up?” cried the steward, who chanced to pa.s.s the door of the men's sleeping-place, with a large dish of boiled salt pork, at the moment.

”Wot's up?” echoed Dumsby. ”Everythink that ever went into me since I was a hinfant must be `up' by this time. I say, is there any chance of gettin' on the rock to-day?”

”O yes. I heard the cap'n say it would be quite easy, and they seem to be makin' ready now, so if any of 'ee want breakfast you'd better turn out.”

This speech acted like a shock of electricity on the wretched men. In a moment every bed was empty, and the place was in a bustle of confusion as they hurriedly threw on their clothes.

Some of them even began to think of the possibility of venturing on a hard biscuit and a cup of tea, but a gust of wind sent the fumes of the salt pork into the cabin at the moment, and the mere idea of food filled them with unutterable loathing.

Presently the bell rang again. This was the signal for the men to muster, the boats being ready alongside. The whole crew at once rushed on deck, some of them thrusting biscuits into their pockets as they pa.s.sed the steward's quarters. Not a man was absent on the roll being called. Even the smith crawled on deck, and had spirit enough left to advise Ruby not to forget the bellows; to which Ruby replied by recommending his comrade not to forget the matches.

Then the operation of embarking began.

The sea at the time was running pretty high, with little white flecks of foam tipping the crests of the deep blue waves. The eastern sky was dark and threatening. The black ridges of the Bell Rock were visible only at times in the midst of the sea of foam that surrounded them.

Anyone ignorant of their nature would have deemed a landing absolutely impossible.

The _Pharos_, as we have said, was rolling violently from side to side, insomuch that those who were in the boats had the greatest difficulty in preventing them from being stove in; and getting into these boats had much the appearance of an exceedingly difficult and dangerous feat, which active and reckless men might undertake for a wager.

But custom reconciles one to almost anything. Most of the men had had sufficient experience by that time to embark with comparative ease.

Nevertheless, there were a few whose physical conformation was such that they could do nothing neatly.

Poor Forsyth was one of these. Each man had to stand on the edge of the lights.h.i.+p, outside the bulwarks, holding on to a rope, ready to let go and drop into the boat when it rose up and met the vessel's roll. In order to facilitate the operation a boat went to either side of the s.h.i.+p, so that two men were always in the act of watching for an opportunity to spring. The active men usually got in at the first or second attempt, but others missed frequently, and were of course ”chaffed” by their more fortunate comrades.

The embarking of ”Long Forsyth” was always a scene in rough weather, and many a narrow escape had he of a ducking. On the present occasion, being very sick, he was more awkward than usual.

”Now, Longlegs,” cried the men who held the boat on the starboard side, as Forsyth got over the side and stood ready to spring, ”let's see how good you'll be to-day.”

He was observed by Joe Dumsby, who had just succeeded in getting into the boat on the port side of the s.h.i.+p, and who always took a lively interest in his tall comrade's proceedings.

”Hallo! is that the spider?” he cried, as the s.h.i.+p rolled towards him, and the said spider appeared towering high on the opposite bulwark, sharply depicted against the grey sky.

It was unfortunate for Joe that he chanced to be on the opposite side from his friend, for at each roll the vessel necessarily intervened and hid him for a few seconds from view.

Next roll, Forsyth did not dare to leap, although the gunwale of the boat came within a foot of him. He hesitated, the moment was lost, the boat sank into the hollow of the sea, and the man was swung high into the air, where he was again caught sight of by Dumsby.

”What! are you there yet?” he cried. ”You must be fond of a swing--”

Before he could say more the s.h.i.+p rolled over to the other side, and Forsyth was hid from view.