CHAPTER XV
A DOUBLE DELIVERANCE
Hour after hour wore on, while many of the men, in spite of their fears, slept soundly. Rube, indeed, seemed unable to realise that there was any danger at all. Having joined in the general prayer for deliverance he appeared to regard the matter as quite settled, and as not requiring any more care on his or anyone else’s part except the Father’s. Most of the men, over-borne with weariness both of body and brain, slept fitfully in many uncouth attitudes, some half reclining upon banks of grease-exuding blubber gently heaving with the motion of the ship, others twisted into comfortable corners, apparently impervious to cold, or wet, or fear. But the Captain, more at peace with his surroundings than he could understand, and dimly, subconsciously wondering why, sat on the little deck aft listening to the angry roar of the baffled sea far outside the engirdling groves of kelp. The sullen boom of the rollers against that unseen mass to leeward, the hissing, swishing sound of the great leaves restlessly sliding over each other and against the ship, and the ever-deepening roar of the gale overhead made up a concert truly terrifying in its effect upon the heart. And yet Captain Hampden felt little terror. Knowing his utter helplessness, he was driven to as utter a dependence upon a kindly Power which he knew was not merely capable of saving his ship and all hands, but was always benevolently disposed towards man,and never more so than in his hour of deepest distress.
So he sat calmly and wished for the day. Several times he made the beginning of a move, feeling that action of some kind, even though only in the direction of clearing the decks, would be better for all than quietly enduring this season of suspense. But each time he realised how hopeless such an attempt would be in the present condition of the deck and the state of all hands. Therefore, he waited with wonderful patience until the cook’s head appeared at his side above the break of the house, and a deferential voice said, ‘Wun’t yo hab drop ob hot coffee, sah? I got it yah, all ready, sah.’ ‘Yes, cook, think I will. Jest wut I ben needin’ fur a long time ’n’ didn’t know it.’ And as he took the cup from the delighted black man he thought how good a thing was service done whole-heartedly, and how well and willingly it was rendered by such men as these. A smile may rise at the thought of any shipmaster considering his cook like this, but it would be the smile of ignorance. For if a cup of cold water given in the Master’s name shall in no wise lose its reward, there is little doubt that a cup of coffee on a bitter night, prepared with much difficulty, by a man who, although only doing his duty, is doing that duty with all his might, will in like manner gain him a reward. I remember when I was lamp-trimmer on board theWentworth, running between Sydney and Melbourne, I used to be called at daybreak to duty. After taking in the lamps, my first thought was to make a cup of coffee—it being some time before the cooks were at work. And itwas my practice, though in no sense my duty, to take a cup and a piece of toast up to Mr. Wallace, the chief officer, on the bridge, whom I used to picture as burdened with the care of the ship up there in the bleak night. He was a brusque, almost coarse, sailor, but I know he was grateful. A word of thanks from him set my heart dancing (I was barely fifteen years of age), but my chief reward was in the knowledge of having done a kindness. And this is the spirit that moves the world to-day. Everyone should take courage, whatever their creed, in the thought that the Christ ideal, which is unselfishness raised to its highest power, is becoming universal, and that the many exceptions have no contradictory force at all.
By the time Captain Hampden had finished his coffee he found that there was a perceptible lightening of the gloom around, although the wind had increased so much that it was evident, unless something was speedily done to ease the strain upon them, the masts would certainly go. So, rising stiffly to his feet, the skipper sought the mate, finding him ready, standing near the compass, and apparently endeavouring to get a bearing of the land, which was becoming more visible, and, if possible, more horribly threatening in appearance as it did so. ‘Good morning, sir,’ said Mr. Pease, as soon as he saw the skipper; ‘pipin’ up, ain’t she, sir?’ ‘Yaas; guess she is, an’ ef we want to carry any of our sticks eout o’ this, we’ll hev t’ git thet canvas off her as quick ’s it kin be did. I don’t think it matters much, anyway, whether she hez canvas on her or not—she can’t make much, if any, headway through this weed, an’it looks ’s if th’ Lord wunt let her go ashore. Go ahead, Mr. Pease, git th’ rags off her, ’n’ by thet time, please God, it’ll be daylight good.’
So the mate obediently roared out his message to the crew, who responded with a phenomenal cheerfulness, clambering over those slimy, greasy masses on deck as if they cared nothing at all for the difficulty of their passage. In half an hour they had shortened her down to the three close-reefed topsails, and besides had cleared up the gear so that no ropes should be in the way of the whale-matter lying about. And having done this they stood by, waiting, oh, so anxiously, the whole of that ship’s company; with just one exception—Rube. He it was who wore always a beaming smile, and sidled up to first one and then the other with some cheering word. Just as a doctor who is always hoping for the best, while taking precaution against the worst, is the most likely to pull his patient through, so this Divine teaching of cheerfulness in the presence of dangerous and depressing circumstances does really seem to win the battle before it is fought. In any case, if the warrior does fall he falls with his face to the foe, and with the high satisfaction thrilling his soul that he has behaved in that last dread hour as became aman.
To this little waiting crowd came suddenly the blessing of light. As if some mighty angel’s hand had grasped the swart veil of cloud closing them darkly in, and had rent it in sunder from horizon to zenith, the whole western quadrant of the sky was suddenly lighted up by the brilliant beams of the newly risen sun. So splendid was this enlightening that for a few moments all hands stood awe-stricken, watching the rapidlyglancing sabres of glorious flashing colour thrusting the encompassing gloom through and through. Then as if by one impulse all turned to leeward to see how near was the fateful rock. As if it had just leapt out of the gloom, Gough Island was revealed, within a mile (which looks at sea less than a hundred yards does ashore), and every heart for a moment stood still. But after that tribute to human weakness hope instantly reasserted her lovely self. Had they not been kept from perishing all through the blackness of that terrible night? Was it not certain that they were now no nearer the land than when they last saw it clearly, in spite of the stress of the gale upon the ship’s broadside? Undoubtedly it was; and more—some of them began to take mental bearings and compare them with the position they could remember the previous evening, finding that at any rate if they were not gaining ground they were certainly not losing.
Suddenly the Captain shouted to the mate, ‘Mr. Pease, turn the hands to on the tryin’ out. We kain’t do nothin’ with the ship as she is, an’ we mout so well ’muse ourselves doin’ somethin’ useful.’ This pronouncement was hailed with the utmost delight by all hands, and like a swarm of ants they were soon busy cutting, slicing, mincing, boiling, and getting out the bone—so busy, indeed, as well as interested in their work, that they scarcely ever paused to look at the great precipices to leeward of them.
Meanwhile, the Captain had very carefully taken his cross bearings, and had no sooner completed the simple operation than he felt certain that his vessel was drifting south in almost imperceptible fashion. Hope revived, and he joined his workers with a heartgreatly lightened. There by his tremendous exertions and cheery voice he encouraged all hands to attend to present duties, and thus exclude forebodings for the future. And two hours later when he again took his bearings his hopeful supposition became a definite certainty: she had drifted through that hindering kelp, in apparent defiance of the fateful pressure of the gale striving to thrust her on shore, quite two miles nearer safety. Now he felt impelled to shout the glad news to his splendid men who had so nobly responded to the call made upon them. So raising his voice to its fullest compass he roared: ‘She’s gettin’ eout ov it, boys. Praise God we’ll be all right yet. There isn’t any shipwreck coming off this time. She’s gettin’ raound th’ corner ov th’ island in great shape. So peg away, men—while yew’re workin’ she’s a-dreeftin’, an’ as soon ’s ever she gits clear we’ll give her every rag she’ll drag, an’ git away fr’m this uncomf’ble neighbourhood.’
A wild cheer answered him, and all hands immediately redoubled their efforts to clear that grease-encumbered deck. Perhaps the gentle reader may feel a little nausea at the idea of a whole crew of men wallowing about in a deck full of dripping—for really it is no exaggeration to call it by that homely name—but I dare make no apology for being as literal and realistic as possible in this matter, since by such methods alone is it possible to make the land-living reader understand what manner of men these were who wrested such gigantic spoil from the depths of the mighty ocean, and under what circumstances they lived. Here you have men involved in toil of the most strenuous kind under conditions whichto the majority of mankind would preclude any action whatever except for self-preservation. And in addition thereto destruction to all waits grimly by the vessel’s side, unveiling all its possibilities of horror and inviting man’s heart to quail, his muscles to grow flaccid, his mind to become unhinged. And in spite of all you find this lonely group of seafarers steadfastly setting their strength to the accomplishment of their unpoetic task in the highest frame of heroism, which is to do what lies before you with a single eye, not looking for the commendation of your fellow men, but because of the inherent joy involved in just doing one’s duty.
So hour by hour slipped by, the mincing-machine clattered incessantly, the flame from the twin chimneys of the try-works soared palely into the keen air, and was swept off at right angles to leeward by the wind as if it were some angelic sword stabbing at the grim mass to eastward of them. And the effect of their labours was manifest in that a clear gangway along the deck was now made right fore and aft. Into the midst of the toil came the clear, cheerful voice of the skipper calling, ‘Dinner, men, an’ befo’ y’ go remember she’s gittin’ cl’ar’s fast ’s ever th’ weed’ll allow her. She’s made quite four miles of southin’ sence eight bells—thet’s a mile an hour. An’ ef she keeps thet goin’ through the afternoon as she has this forenoon we’ll be cl’ar o’ th’ whole thing by sundown.’ ‘Hooray! bully fer th’ skipper,’ shouted the crew, and seizing such rags, wads of oakum, and the like, as they could get hold of they sauntered forward, wiping down as they went. They were saturated from head to heel with oil,they looked like a gang of piratical scarecrows, but I make bold to say that they were as heroic a crowd as ever came out of the most hardly contested battle. And on reaching the dim chamber, reeking with a foul combination of evil smells, they squatted around on the greasy deck and received each man in his little tin dish a portion of salt pork, a few spoonfuls of haricot beans, and a little loaf. Everyone doffed his cap, everyone felt thankful for this portion of coarsest food, and Reuben only focussed the general sense of the company when he said, holding one hand out before him, ‘Lovin’ God, we’re alive t’ eat, an’ work, an’ thank Thee. We do, an’ ask You t’ make us thankful men, keep us good men, not ashamed of one another or of Thee. For Christ’s sake. Amen.’ The ‘Amen’ was so heartily echoed that Rube looked around startled. He could hardly believe his ears. With all his beautiful, childlike faith in God, he had, like most of us, but little faith in man, and when he found how mightily God was working in the crowd around him he was, as most of us would be, moved to profoundest wonder. Like most of us, he had not believed ’according to your faith be it unto you,’ or that when man’s faith fails, God, who cannot be disheartened, steps in and does in His own way His own work at His own appointed time.
Little was said during the meal—all were too ravenous with hunger for that; but when the last scrap of food had been eaten up, and the utensils cleared away by the cook of the mess, pipes were stuffed with greasy tobacco and lighted, and although each pipe emitted a peculiar frizzling sound as of frying, and the odour of the oily weed would certainlyhave driven an ordinary smoker frantic, each man’s face wore a perfectly satisfied expression, and a desultory conversation began. ‘Don thatt wass a narr’ squeak, hey,’ muttered a square-built little Italian, who lay coiled up by the pawl-bitt. ‘I thinkin’ I promesso giva candela thosa sainta, onlee I carn faget thees name thata time.’ ‘Mean yew cuddent ’member, I ’spose,’ grumbled a Down Easter by his side. ‘Si, grazie,’ eagerly responded the Italian. ‘Don’t can memb’. Nev’ mine. Savea one dolla. ’Sides, how I know ef thatt Sancta goin’ elpa me bord una barca eretico lika thees?’ ‘Look here,’ Antone,’ said a deep voice out of the gloom across the fo’c’sle, ‘You better pay fur thet candle, annyhow. Give it as a thank-offrin’ ’at yew wuz aboard a heretic ship. I guess ’fore th’ machinery of your crowd c’d a-got in working order we sh’d all a-ben gone up. Wut d’ ye say, boys?’ A hoarse murmur of approval ran round, while poor Antone grew hot as if feeling that it was incumbent upon him to defend his faith. But suddenly realising that as he had never understood what his faith was except doing just what he was told (when it was easy) by the priest, he fell back upon common-sense, and replied, ‘Well, ’corse I don’ know anyt’ing about ’cept I’m eatina dinner, smokina pipe. Ef I say Dio Grazie thatt goin’ be alia righta, no Rube, eh, whatt?’ The deep, cheerful voice of Reuben immediately chimed in, ‘Of course, Antone, if you reelly are thankful to God. But if He’s spared your life, you ought to remember it an’ see if you can’t do somethin’ with it for Him. An’ when you come to think of it—it ain’t much to ask—that you shall be clean in mind, an’ tongue, thatyou shall be kind and helpful, an’ true, an’ that you shall remember not now and then, but always, the gentle, loving Jesu Christo, your every-day and all-day Friend.’ The impressionable little Italian’s face was all awork as this little talk fell from Rube’s lips. It went, in spite of his disability in language, right home to his hot southern heart, and the bright drops of sensibility’s precious dew glistened on his russet beard.
But Mr. Pease’s stentorian voice was heard shouting, ‘Turn-to!’ and on the instant pipes were laid aside, belts were tightened, caps pressed down upon tanned brows, and a rush upwards was made from those fœtid quarters into the bright, invigorating air, which really seizes upon a man newly emerged from the foulness below like a pleasant vertigo, making him wonder whatever can be the matter with him. The first thing each man did upon reaching the deck was to give a swift glance to leeward. And as each did so a very real sense of gratitude flooded his heart. For it no longer needed the skipper’s cheery assurance that all was well to satisfy the most ignorant of them that they were now, humanly speaking, out of danger. True, they were not yet past the fringe of kelp, their vessel was as yet quite unmanageable, and the gale blew with undiminished vigour. But still it was evident that the steady stress of that invisible force beneath them would not allow them to be driven any farther shoreward, and, quite satisfied, they turned to their work with as much lack of concern for the safety of the ship as if no land had been in sight.
Seeing that all was proceeding so cheerily, CaptainHampden called the mate, and said, ‘Mr. Pease, I ain’t quite ’s young’s I wuz, ’n’ after last night I begin t’ feel the flesh pullin’ a bit. So if you’ll jest give an eye t’ her, I’ll go ’n’ hev an hour’s caulk. Maybe I’ll need it to-night, though I hope all will be in good shape ’fore dark. ’N’ ’s soon ’s ever yer git th’ decks cl’ar o’ blubber, set yer watches—blubber watches, o’ course. Le’s give this grand lot er fellows all th’ rest we kin.’ ‘Aye, aye, sir,’ cheerily answered the mate; ‘ef I hadn’t ’a felt it ’d be persoomin’ I’d ’a’ asked yew to go ’n’ hev a spell long ago. We kain’t afford t’ hev yew crackin’ up, y’ know, sir. An’ yew c’n be quite sure ’at everythin’ ’ll go like clockwork. I don’t believe they’s a spouter afloat to-day ’s got such a bully crowd ’s we hev, an’ I’m sure yew think the same, Cap’n.’ ‘I dew jest thet,’ sleepily murmured the old man as he swung off towards the companion and disappeared.
Thoroughly wearied as he was, and with a great weight lifted from his mind, the good old man sank at once, as soon as he lay down, into a deep sleep. But although it was in reality fully two hours since he lay down, when he suddenly realised that he was wide awake he seemed certain that he had but just dozed off. It is a curious sensation, but fairly common among seamen, this of suddenly passing from the depths of sleep to uttermost clearness of thought and readiness for action. For a moment he waited, listening intently for some recurring sound, explaining why he should thus have awakened, as he thought, so soon. But except for the creaking of the old ship’s timbers and the deep murmur of the gale there was no sound noticeable, and these lullabies would certainly have kept him sleeping. However,the feeling that something had happened which needed his attention forced itself upon him, and rising stiffly from the hard cushions of the transom locker, he snatched his cap and climbed on deck. One swift glance forward showed him how strenuously his men had been toiling while he slept, for the deck was clear to the try-works, and the latter were smoking furiously, while the attendant gnomes came and went, tirelessly carrying on their great task. He looked overside and saw that the weed was perceptibly less in quantity; he looked at the land and—surely it could not be—and yet—his hawk-like vision could not play him false. He grabbed his glasses and focussed them on what he saw—a rag of fluttering white among the sombre rocks, immediately satisfying himself that someone needing help was there. Instantly all the powers of his mind were busy devising means for the assistance of any unfortunate stranded in so wild a spot. Again and again he surveyed that tiny flutter of white; again and again he took an undecided step forward as if to give an order, until at last he said aloud, ‘Wall, God he’pin’ us, we ort to do something, though how is more than I can see. All hands on deck!’ he roared, and in two minutes the mate was by his side, his big eyes staring full of inquiry at his commander. ‘Wut is it, sir?’ he gasped. ‘It’s a wrecked crew, I reckon, Mr. Pease. D’ ye see yonder flicker of white in that cleft between those two big rocks—no, a bit to starboard, so?’ ‘Yes, sir, I see it,’ said the mate; ‘d’ ye make it out to be a signal, sir?’ ‘I do, jest that, Pease, an’—but here kems the boys. Naow, then, m’lads, thar’s life to be saved. Lower away starboard quarter-boat,’n’ yew, Mr. Peck (it’s yewr boat anyhow) make the best way yew kin to whar yew see yon white flicker among th’ rocks. Yew’ll hev to warp yewr way along through the kelp as best yew can, and when yew git cluss to it, be keerful—be jest as keerful as yew know how; fur we kain’t spare either yew er yewr boat’s crew. Thar’ll be an all-fired heavy swell on the beach (if they is any beach) fur all it looks so smooth frum here. Thish yer kelp stops the sea rollin’ in, but it kain’t stop th’ swell, y’ know. Now, give way, and God go with yew t’ save.’
At the word the boat left the ship, the crew plying their oars with great difficulty, because of the encumbering weed. So they soon shipped oars, and took their paddles—every whaleboat having five of these primitive but exceedingly useful propellers stowed in their beckets under the thwarts—and with much laborious effort urged their boat shoreward. As they neared the black, forbidding cliffs the officer’s heart sank, for he saw how apparently inaccessible they were, and how the gigantic southern swell, with never a foamy break, rose and fell against those awful precipices. The long streamers of kelp like multitudinous serpents writhed around the bared rock bases, then disappeared as the whole mighty body of water lifted, lifted, lifted until it seemed as if it must submerge the mountain tops. And still that tiny white rag fluttered forth its agonising message: ‘Come and save us.’
Be it noted that while Mr. Peck was fully alive to the tremendous danger awaiting him and his brave fellows, the possibilityof his not being able to fulfil his errand of mercy never occurred to him. He was one of those wonderful fellows who never calculate beforehand the chances of defeat. And these are the men who do great deeds, although it be accounted criminal in war to neglect the keeping open of a line of retreat. So by every encouraging word he could speak he urged the toiling crew to greater effort, until the kelp became so thick that paddling was no longer possible, and they had perforce to haul the boat along by grasping the long strands of black vegetation that rose and fell rhythmically around them. Nearer and nearer they drew, near enough to distinguish a forlorn little company of people clambering precariously over the rocks and making (as yet) unintelligible signs to them. Nearer and nearer yet, until it became evident that the refugees were waving them towards a gigantic escarpment which rose fully five hundred feet almost perpendicularly from the sea, and at one angle seemed to present an edge just like a jagged sabre. They altered their course in obedience to these frantic signallings, and presently found themselves fighting for life against the heave and hurl of the swell, which suddenly seemed to have found force that was lacking before when they were farther from the land. The ropes of kelp slithered through their bleeding hands, great fronds arose mysteriously from the blackness and swept across the boat, scourging them as with giant whips; they cowered and groaned, and begged for mercy in undertones, but toiled on. And then, when all their efforts appeared to have failed because the poor human machines could no longer respond to the merciless call made upon them, came a blessed lull, the boat swept round the sabre-edge of the cliff, and there, free from kelp, was a tiny crevasse withdeep blue water just gently rising and falling, and a ledge of clean rock running all round it. Upon this ledge was clustered a strange company, savage and weird-looking, long elf-locks bleached by wind and storm, garments of every imaginable material and shape. Ten of this company were crouching at the edge nearest the boat with uplifted hands and streaming eyes.
But when the boat came near enough for them to leap in there was a pause. Even in here the outer swell made itself felt, and without careful handling a calamity was imminent at the last moment. Therefore Mr. Peck shouted to the little group to watch when the swell came gently, as it did after every three rolls, when he would let the boat almost graze the rocks, and four, no more, at a time, must jump into the middle of the boat. Then it was seen that the refugees were encouraging three smaller figures, patting them, pointing to the boat, making signs as they talked, until one voice rang out sharply from the shore: ‘Dear boys, these three are women—do try and catch them, they’ve suffered so much.’ Ah! had any stimulus been wanted this would have supplied it, for it is the glory of the Anglo-Saxon race, and especially of the American branch of the old tree—its reverence for woman, whether mother, wife, or sister. The boat rose gently shoreward, the officer shouted, ‘Now,’ and three shrinking figures half jumped, half fell, into the outstretched arms of the boatmen. ‘Safe, thank God!’ shouted the former speaker from the shore. The rest was easy. The remaining seven took careful bearings and leaped at the right moments until the whole ten were snuglybestowed, and it was time to turn the boat’s head seaward again.
But now she was overloaded. If it had been a heavy task coming in with her light before the swell, what would it now be going out deeply laden—not six inches of freeboard amidships—against that awful surge? For one moment Peck’s heart failed him as he weighed the possibilities. Then—and this was a miraculous thing, seeing that never before had he entertained such an idea—he lifted his cap and said, or rather shouted, for the roar of the swell was almost deafening: ‘Boys, le’s ask God t’ he’p us out of this hole. Keep her steady with the paddles. “O God, we’re all in Your han’s. We’re tryin’ t’ save life, we’re doin’ our best, we b’lieve wekain’tgo under without You lets us. Naow save our lives so’s we k’n praise You all the days ov our life.” Naow let her have it, boys. Paddle fur yer lives, an’ as soon ’s we strike the kelp, gather it in an’ haul fur all yer wuth. Passengers, lie still in th’ bottom o’ th’ boat.’