Chapter Eighteen.My position does not improve—Another attempt at escape frustrated—Becalmed off Japan—Macao—A fresh cargo—Extension of the voyage—Not dead yet—I gain some important information as to the future fate awaiting me, and I determine to quit the ship—A carouse—My escape, and how I accomplished it—Alone on the ocean—I sight land—The rock and my landing-place—My search for food—I meet with an accident—I lose my boat.I must pass rapidly over the voyage across the Pacific. Whatever better feelings the captain had at one time displayed towards me completely disappeared. I was treated by him and the officers and men as badly as ever. My spirit was not broken, and perhaps I may at times have shown too refractory a disposition to please them. I was compelled, however, to submit to and obey their orders, annoying and vexatious as they often were. I did not show my feelings so much by what I said as by my looks, and I often stopped to consider whether or no I would do as I was told.We fell in with a few ships—most of them whalers—the captains of which sometimes came on board, and I had hoped that I might be able to get off in one of them. I fancied that it would be impossible to change for the worse, but I in vain watched for an opportunity.One evening we were becalmed to the southward of Japan, not far off a South Sea whaler. The commander, who was an old acquaintance of Captain Longfleet, came aboard, and spent the evening with him in the cabin. I waited eagerly till it had become dark. The lights of the other ship could be seen in the distance, and I expected every instant that the captain would come on deck ready to take his departure. The boat’s crew had come aboard, and were being entertained by our men. I thought if I could manage to slip down I might stow myself away under the foremost thwart, and should not be discovered till I had reached the other ship. I would then tell my story to the commander, who if he would not have compassion on me would probably not think it worth while to send me back that night, and before the morning a breeze might spring up and the ships be separated.I waited concealed under the long-boat stowed amidships till I fancied that there was no one near the side where the whale-boat lay. I then crept out and got into the main chains. I was just about to lower myself down when a huge hand was placed on my shoulder, and I heard a voice which I knew to be that of old Growles.“Come inboard, you young rascal!” he said; “you’re not going to get off as easily as you fancy. It’s lucky for you that you didn’t get into the boat, for you would have been found to a certainty, and handed over to our skipper, who would have knocked the life out of you.”“What’s all this about? How did you know I wanted to get into the boat?” I asked, in a tone of assumed astonishment.“’Cos I’ve seen you watching ever since she came alongside,” answered Growles; “so take that—and that,”—and hauling me inboard, he bestowed several blows with the end of a rope on my back.I ran forward to escape from him, and stowed myself away in my bunk, as it was my watch below.We at last reached Macao, where our cargo of furs was discharged, and for which I believe a very high price was obtained. I had no wish, from what I had heard of the Chinese, to go and live among them, and I therefore did not attempt to get on shore, although I had reason to believe that I was all the time narrowly watched by old Growles and the boatswain.Instead of the furs and skins we shipped a cargo of tea in chests, and other Chinese produce. Part of this was to be landed at Sydney, New South Wales, and the rest, if no market could be found there for it, was to be carried on to America. This would greatly prolong the voyage, and consequently my miseries. I had hitherto been supported by the expectation of soon reaching home and being emancipated from my bondage.I had no dislike to the sea; and had I been well treated even in my subordinate position I should have been contented to remain where I was, and to try and learn as much as I could; but to be kicked and beaten and knocked down every day of my life—to have the dirtiest of work and the worst of food—to be sworn at and abused at all hours—made me well-nigh weary of my life.I was one night standing just before the windlass, when I said something which offended Sam Dixon, one of the men. In return he struck me a blow on the head. I must have fallen immediately, and rolled down directly underthe windlass. Perhaps fancying that he had killed me, Dixon walked away, without uttering anything to anybody as to what he had done.I probably lay there for some time in a state of unconsciousness—how long I could not tell. When I came to myself I heard some of my shipmates talking near me. I was about to crawl out when my own name caught my ears.“We have had enough of that youngster at present,” said one; “he has ’peached once, and will ferret out what we’re about, and ’peach again if he has the chance. I only wish we had dropped him overboard with a shot round his feet long ago.”It was the boatswain who spoke.“I didn’t think of the shot, as I suppose that would stop him from coming up again, and haunting the ship,” remarked old Growles; “that’s what I was afeered of.”“Why, Gregory, you’re always thinking of ghosts and spirits—they wouldn’t do harm to you or any of us,” remarked another fellow who was looked upon as the chief sceptic of the crew, though it is difficult to say what they did or did not believe, for considering their lives it might be supposed that they were all infidels together.They continued talking in low voices. Though I could not make out all they said, I gathered enough to be convinced that they had some plot or other which they intended soon to put into execution, and fearing lest I should get an inkling of it and inform the captain, they intended to do away with me. It was some satisfaction to discover that they had no immediate intention of executing their plans. I might have time to warn the officers or to make my escape.I for some time had had an idea in my head. We carried a small boat astern, generally called a dinghy. She could hold two or three people, and was useful for sending away to the shore, or for lowering at sea in calm weather when anything had to be picked up. If I could lower her into the water during the night when off the coast of some island, I might manage to escape to the shore before I was discovered.What I had heard made me resolve not to delay a moment longer than could be helped. That night nothing could be done, even should I find that the blow had not incapacitated me from exertion. I dare not move from my present uncomfortable position, for should I be discovered the men would not scruple to do away with me. I was thankful that the men at last got up and began to walk about the deck. I was fearful, however, that they might come by the windlass, when I must have been discovered.At last I heard the second mate, who was the officer of the watch, give the order to shorten sail, and they had to run to their stations; and as they did so, I crawled out and succeeded in reaching my bunk, into which I tumbled unperceived. I was far from comfortable, however, fearing that that very night they might smother me—the mode I fancied they would take to put me out of existence.I was not missed, I suppose, as no one called me, and when my watch on deck came round I turned out with the rest. My head ached, and I had a big lump on my forehead. In the morning, when the third mate saw me, he asked how I got that. I replied that it was the way I had got many another, that it was only what I expected, and had made up my mind to bear it.“You’re a rum chap, and a bold one—more than I’d do,” answered the mate, not troubling himself more about the matter.When I went aft to the cabin at breakfast, I heard one of the mates observe that we should make the coast of Australia that day. Then I thought to myself, “If I can get off I will.” I had no intention of going without provisions. I knew that a good store was kept in the pantry, to which I had access. My intention was to tumble everything I could find into a cloth, to tie it up, and to carry it off, if I could, unperceived to the dinghy.How to lower that without being heard or seen by the watch on deck was the difficulty. The falls were so fitted that a single person might lower her, but then she would make a splash in the water.We made the land about four o’clock in the afternoon, but after standing on for some time till it was nearly dark, the captain ordered the ship’s head to be put about, as he was not well acquainted with the coast, and there were dangerous reefs which ran off for a considerable distance.Night came on, and a very dark night it was, but the darkness would favour my design. Instead of being allowed to turn in when it was my watch below, I was sent aft by the cook with a dish of devilled biscuits to the cabin, where the captain and the first and second mates were taking supper, while the third mate had the watch on deck. I intended it to be the last time I would turn into my bunk. I had not been long in the cabin before I observed that the captain and mates had been drinking, and seemed disposed to continue their debauch. The devilled biscuits which I had placed before them still farther incited their thirst, and the captain ordered another bottle of rum. I noticed that the steward, when I told him, got out two bottles, one of which he kept in the pantry while he took the other into the cabin.“You’ll do to attend on the officers, Dick,” he said to me; “I’m going to enjoy myself.”I stood ready to obey any orders I should receive. The conversation I heard was far from edifying, but I was too much engaged in thinking of my own project to attend to it.As I was standing at the far end of the cabin I heard a crash. One of the mates had knocked over a couple of tumblers, and I was sent into the pantry to obtain others. I found the steward fast verging into a state of unconsciousness. He had been pulling away at the rum-bottle at a great rate, for fear he should not have time to finish it.As I got the tumblers I cast my eyes round the pantry to see what articles of food I could most readily carry off. I saw the best part of a cold ham, an ample supply of biscuits and some pots of Chinese preserves, with several other things of less consequence.Returning to the cabin I placed the tumblers on the table, and retired beyond the reach of the officers, having been taught by experience that they might at any moment think fit to give me a box on the ear or to knock me down. I watched them with intense interest, lest they should knock off before they were completely drunk. The third mate came into the cabin apparently to report something to the captain, but, seeing the state his commander was in, uttering a loud whew! He turned on his heel, and went out again, seeing the importance of keeping sober himself. I confess that I wished he had sat down with the others, and left the ship to take care of herself.Soon afterwards, as I knew I should not be missed, I stole out of the cabin, and went into the pantry, where I quickly did up the provisions I intended to take with me. There was a jar of water, evidently quite full, which the steward kept ready for use.I now went on deck to ascertain what chance I had of carrying out my design. I could discover no one excepting the man at the helm, and the third mate had, I concluded, to take a look-out. I hurried back to get the jar and provisions, and unperceived placed them in the dinghy. I felt about in her, and found two oars and a boat-hook.The falls were, as I have said, so fitted that one person could lower the boat, but to do so without capsizing her when the ship was moving through the water was almost an impossible undertaking.The wind had previously been very light, and the vessel had scarcely any steerage way on her. To my intense satisfaction I noticed that it was now almost a stark calm.Now or never I must carry out my project. I thought not of the dangers to be encountered; the chances of being chased and overtaken; the savages on shore; the risk of starvation; the want of water; the current that might sweep me along; or the chances of a storm arising before I could gain the land. I had not a moment to lose. The mate remained forward; the man at the helm stood motionless, and, I hoped, was asleep. I slipped into the boat, and passing the slack of the falls under two thwarts, gently lowered myself down. I had, the day before, unobserved, thoroughly greased the blocks.My chief fear now was, that the splash the boat would make on reaching the water would be heard. I therefore eased away with the greatest care, and stood ready in a moment to cast off the aft-most fall. I cleared it in the nick of time, and the boat was towed slowly ahead. I quickly cleared the foremost fall, and was now adrift. I was conscious that a light splash had been made, but I hoped that if the mate heard it he would fancy that it was caused by some monster of the deep rising above the surface. Without waiting to ascertain whether this was the case or not, I seized the oars and pulled rapidly away from the stern of the vessel, the light from the cabin window assisting me to keep the course I desired to make towards the land. I congratulated myself at having accomplished my object before it was too late, for I felt a breeze fanning my ears as I pulled on.As I looked up at the tall masts, it seemed to me that the sails bulged out, and that the ship was rapidly increasing her distance from me. I was already a considerable way astern when I heard a loud hail. I recognised the voice of the mate, who had probably just discovered that the boat was gone. My fear was, that another would be lowered and sent in chase of me. This made me pull all the harder. My only idea was, to reach shore and escape from my persecutors. I dared not lose time by stopping even for a moment to listen for the sounds of a boat being lowered. I heard several other voices hail, but the ship stood on and gradually faded away in the gloom of night. I knew that being low in the water I could not be seen.Presently I saw the flash of a musket; then another and another; but no shots came near me, and from this I was convinced that the third mate, or some one else, was firing at random. Had the captain or the other mates been in their right senses the ship would probably have been hove-to and two boats, at least, have been sent in chase of me. The third mate was, I suspect, afraid of heaving to on account of the reefs. He kept the ship, therefore, before the wind. Whatever the cause, I was thankful I was not pursued, and I trusted that the breeze would blow stronger and carry the ship farther and farther away from me.Although, through there being no moon, the night was dark, and there was a mist which hung over the waters, yet I could observe overhead several stars, and as the lights from the cabin receded, I marked their position, and was thus able, with tolerable confidence, to continue my way towards the land. I fancied that I should be able to reach it early in the morning or during the next day. I at length began to grow weary, but as long as I could move my arms I determined to row on. The wind being off the land, the sea was perfectly calm. Scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface. I was too anxious to feel hunger or thirst. At the same time, the joy at having escaped kept up my spirits.Under other circumstances I do not think I could have accomplished what I did. I fancied that I was pulling at the rate of four miles an hour, and that I was nearing the shore. At length, however, my fatigue overcame me, and I felt that I could row no more. The moment I stopped I felt very sleepy, but had sense sufficient to take in my oars and place them by my side. I then lay down in the bottom of the boat, intending to rest for a few minutes, after which, I expected again to be able to pull on.As may be supposed, I was soon again fast asleep. My slumbers were peaceful and pleasant, rendered so, I presume, by the consciousness that I had escaped from the fate intended for me. I was awakened by a bright light flashing in my eyes. Opening them, I sprang up and found that the sun had just risen above the horizon. I looked eagerly around, dreading lest I should see the ship near me, but to my infinite relief she was not visible, nor was the land I had expected to see and so soon to reach. My little boat was the only object on the waste of waters.The coast, I knew, was to the westward, and as the rising sun would guide me, I took out my oars and began to row away in that direction. I had not rowed long before I began to feel very hungry. I therefore again laid in my oars and took a hearty meal off the provisions I had brought, washing it down with an ample draught of water. Then I once more turned to, but the heat soon became excessive, and I was streaming at every pore. Still, as long as my strength lasted I determined not to give in. I occasionally stopped to take a pull at my water-bottle. With very little rest beside, I continued to paddle on till it was again dark. This showed me what had not occurred to me before, that I might have been rowing part of the time along the coast, instead of towards it, and I supposed that the ship had been much farther off than I had previously imagined. I had been in a dreamy state all day, and unable to think much. This was produced by the heat which beat down on my head. I felt somewhat revived as the sun set, but after a time excessive drowsiness came over me, and once more taking in my oars, I lay down to sleep.I must have slept the whole night, for when I again woke, it was already dawn. I stood up and looked about me, when to my surprise I observed some rocks between myself in the boat and the bright light which heralded the rising sun. I must have been carried by a current inside them. I was about to row away to the westward, when as the light increased I saw what I at first thought was the mast of a small vessel or boat near them. Seizing my oars, I eagerly pulled towards the object. Again looking round I soon discovered it; it was not a mast, but a pole stuck in the rock with a cask or basket fixed on the top of it.This was a sign that some civilised inhabitants must be on the neighbouring shore, and that they had placed that beacon to warn mariners of the dangers of the rock.A number of sea-fowl circled over the rock, occasionally dipping their wings in the clear water.As the sun rose, I made out the land running in a long line to a far distance, as I concluded north and south. It was now time for breakfast.I had no intention of landing on the rock, for this would only cause delay. I took my ham out from the stern sheets, but as I did so, the horrible odour which saluted my nostrils made me certain that it would be impossible to eat it, and, except the dry biscuits, I had no other food. I managed with the aid of some water to masticate a fair quantity, but it might be a long time even now before I could gain the shore, and even then I might be disappointed in obtaining food. It then occurred to me that perhaps the sea-fowl made their nests on the rock, and that I might get some of their eggs, which would give me an ample supply of provisions for some time to come.As I had once upon a time lived upon raw rats, I was not very particular; and even should I not obtain any eggs, I might find some young birds, which, though perhaps fishy in taste, would enable me to support existence. I therefore rowed towards the rock which I saw was of considerable extent, although one part only on which the beacon was placed rose a few feet above the surface.The clearness of the atmosphere had deceived me as to the distance. I rowed on for some time before I reached it. Possibly also, there was a current against me, although that such was the case did not occur to me at the time.The sea-fowl shrieked loudly and wildly as I approached, as if to warn me off from their domain. Some sat on the rock, others darted off and circled round and round the boat, but I was not to be deterred from landing by their threatening cries and movements. At last I got close to the rock, and found an indentation or little bay, into which I ran my boat.Though several birds appeared, I found that they were merely resting on the rock, and that the water was too shallow to allow me to get close enough to step on shore.In many places the seaweed grew so thickly, and was so slimy, that I was afraid to venture on it, lest it offering a treacherous foothold I should slip back into the water. At last I saw a point some distance from the beacon where I thought I could land, and secure the boat’s painter round a rough part of the coral rock. I succeeded in stepping on to it and making the rope fast; and confident that she would be secure, made my way along the rock with the assistance of the boat-hook. I found neither eggs nor young birds; indeed, on examining the rock, I knew that it must be covered occasionally, if not at every tide, by the water. Still I thought that I should find them at the higher part, near the beacon.I accordingly scrambled on as well as I could, but here and there I came to a lower part of the rock over which the water washed, and I saw that to reach the beacon I must wade through it. I had to proceed very cautiously, for it was full of hollows and slippery in the extreme, and a fall might involve serious consequences.The shriek of the birds, though it sounded rather pleasant at a distance, became almost deafening as I got nearer to them.After going some way, I had to stop and rest, supporting myself on the boat-hook. I now saw, on looking round, that the sky which at sunrise had been bright and clear, was becoming fast covered with clouds. The wind, too, blew with much greater force than before. Still, as it came off the land, I hoped that it might not cause such a sea as would prevent me from continuing my voyage. I was too eager, also, to obtain some eggs or young birds to allow the subject to trouble me. I therefore continued scrambling along over the rocks, hoping to find what I was in search of nearer the beacon. I was by this time nearly wet through up to the middle, but that did not matter, as the hot sun soon dried my clothes. Having got on some distance without an accident, I perhaps became more careless; for when leaping from one rock to another, my foot slipped and I came down with a force which I thought must have broken my arm. I lay clutching the rock with the other hand, unable to move from the pain, while my boat-hook slipped from my grasp, and gliding into the water was borne away from the rock. I now saw that a rapid current was passing the rock, the influence of which I must have felt when approaching it in the boat. Without the boat-hook I should find it still more difficult to get along; but I knew that I must not stay where I was for ever, and as soon therefore as the pain allowed me, I rose to my feet and endeavoured to continue my scramble over the rocks.I forgot that my return journey would be quite as difficult if not more so, as I should have no boat-hook, and at the same time should be loaded, I hoped, with eggs and birds. I went on and on, of course making very slow progress. At length I got close to the beacon, and great was my disappointment to find neither eggs nor young birds.I searched round and round the rock in all directions, and I at last came to the conclusion that if the birds lay their eggs there at all the hatching season must have passed, and the young birds grown strong on the wing, and have flown away.It was a great disappointment. As it was, I had had my difficult and tiring scramble for nothing, and had bruised my arm, though happily I had not broken it. I had also lost my boat-hook. I climbed to the higher part of the rock, and had a look at the land, which I judged was ten or twelve miles off at least. Still I hoped to accomplish that distance long before dark, and to find a harbour, as I supposed there was one, or it was not likely that the beacon could have been placed on the rock. I therefore, without further delay, began my return journey. As I went along, I found that some places where I had crossed had become much deeper. At length it occurred to me that the tide was rising. I had regained sight of my boat, which at a distance could not be distinguished from the black rocks, when it suddenly appeared to me that she was moving. I rushed on at the risk of breaking my legs. What was my dismay at seeing that she was already at a considerable distance from the rock where I had left her, and there seemed every probability that I should lose her altogether. In my terror I shouted and shrieked to her to stop. I was on the point of rushing into the water to try and overtake her when I saw a black fin glide by, followed by another, and the wicked eye of a shark glanced up at me, daring me to venture on the undertaking. My despair overcoming me, I sank down on the rock.
My position does not improve—Another attempt at escape frustrated—Becalmed off Japan—Macao—A fresh cargo—Extension of the voyage—Not dead yet—I gain some important information as to the future fate awaiting me, and I determine to quit the ship—A carouse—My escape, and how I accomplished it—Alone on the ocean—I sight land—The rock and my landing-place—My search for food—I meet with an accident—I lose my boat.
My position does not improve—Another attempt at escape frustrated—Becalmed off Japan—Macao—A fresh cargo—Extension of the voyage—Not dead yet—I gain some important information as to the future fate awaiting me, and I determine to quit the ship—A carouse—My escape, and how I accomplished it—Alone on the ocean—I sight land—The rock and my landing-place—My search for food—I meet with an accident—I lose my boat.
I must pass rapidly over the voyage across the Pacific. Whatever better feelings the captain had at one time displayed towards me completely disappeared. I was treated by him and the officers and men as badly as ever. My spirit was not broken, and perhaps I may at times have shown too refractory a disposition to please them. I was compelled, however, to submit to and obey their orders, annoying and vexatious as they often were. I did not show my feelings so much by what I said as by my looks, and I often stopped to consider whether or no I would do as I was told.
We fell in with a few ships—most of them whalers—the captains of which sometimes came on board, and I had hoped that I might be able to get off in one of them. I fancied that it would be impossible to change for the worse, but I in vain watched for an opportunity.
One evening we were becalmed to the southward of Japan, not far off a South Sea whaler. The commander, who was an old acquaintance of Captain Longfleet, came aboard, and spent the evening with him in the cabin. I waited eagerly till it had become dark. The lights of the other ship could be seen in the distance, and I expected every instant that the captain would come on deck ready to take his departure. The boat’s crew had come aboard, and were being entertained by our men. I thought if I could manage to slip down I might stow myself away under the foremost thwart, and should not be discovered till I had reached the other ship. I would then tell my story to the commander, who if he would not have compassion on me would probably not think it worth while to send me back that night, and before the morning a breeze might spring up and the ships be separated.
I waited concealed under the long-boat stowed amidships till I fancied that there was no one near the side where the whale-boat lay. I then crept out and got into the main chains. I was just about to lower myself down when a huge hand was placed on my shoulder, and I heard a voice which I knew to be that of old Growles.
“Come inboard, you young rascal!” he said; “you’re not going to get off as easily as you fancy. It’s lucky for you that you didn’t get into the boat, for you would have been found to a certainty, and handed over to our skipper, who would have knocked the life out of you.”
“What’s all this about? How did you know I wanted to get into the boat?” I asked, in a tone of assumed astonishment.
“’Cos I’ve seen you watching ever since she came alongside,” answered Growles; “so take that—and that,”—and hauling me inboard, he bestowed several blows with the end of a rope on my back.
I ran forward to escape from him, and stowed myself away in my bunk, as it was my watch below.
We at last reached Macao, where our cargo of furs was discharged, and for which I believe a very high price was obtained. I had no wish, from what I had heard of the Chinese, to go and live among them, and I therefore did not attempt to get on shore, although I had reason to believe that I was all the time narrowly watched by old Growles and the boatswain.
Instead of the furs and skins we shipped a cargo of tea in chests, and other Chinese produce. Part of this was to be landed at Sydney, New South Wales, and the rest, if no market could be found there for it, was to be carried on to America. This would greatly prolong the voyage, and consequently my miseries. I had hitherto been supported by the expectation of soon reaching home and being emancipated from my bondage.
I had no dislike to the sea; and had I been well treated even in my subordinate position I should have been contented to remain where I was, and to try and learn as much as I could; but to be kicked and beaten and knocked down every day of my life—to have the dirtiest of work and the worst of food—to be sworn at and abused at all hours—made me well-nigh weary of my life.
I was one night standing just before the windlass, when I said something which offended Sam Dixon, one of the men. In return he struck me a blow on the head. I must have fallen immediately, and rolled down directly underthe windlass. Perhaps fancying that he had killed me, Dixon walked away, without uttering anything to anybody as to what he had done.
I probably lay there for some time in a state of unconsciousness—how long I could not tell. When I came to myself I heard some of my shipmates talking near me. I was about to crawl out when my own name caught my ears.
“We have had enough of that youngster at present,” said one; “he has ’peached once, and will ferret out what we’re about, and ’peach again if he has the chance. I only wish we had dropped him overboard with a shot round his feet long ago.”
It was the boatswain who spoke.
“I didn’t think of the shot, as I suppose that would stop him from coming up again, and haunting the ship,” remarked old Growles; “that’s what I was afeered of.”
“Why, Gregory, you’re always thinking of ghosts and spirits—they wouldn’t do harm to you or any of us,” remarked another fellow who was looked upon as the chief sceptic of the crew, though it is difficult to say what they did or did not believe, for considering their lives it might be supposed that they were all infidels together.
They continued talking in low voices. Though I could not make out all they said, I gathered enough to be convinced that they had some plot or other which they intended soon to put into execution, and fearing lest I should get an inkling of it and inform the captain, they intended to do away with me. It was some satisfaction to discover that they had no immediate intention of executing their plans. I might have time to warn the officers or to make my escape.
I for some time had had an idea in my head. We carried a small boat astern, generally called a dinghy. She could hold two or three people, and was useful for sending away to the shore, or for lowering at sea in calm weather when anything had to be picked up. If I could lower her into the water during the night when off the coast of some island, I might manage to escape to the shore before I was discovered.
What I had heard made me resolve not to delay a moment longer than could be helped. That night nothing could be done, even should I find that the blow had not incapacitated me from exertion. I dare not move from my present uncomfortable position, for should I be discovered the men would not scruple to do away with me. I was thankful that the men at last got up and began to walk about the deck. I was fearful, however, that they might come by the windlass, when I must have been discovered.
At last I heard the second mate, who was the officer of the watch, give the order to shorten sail, and they had to run to their stations; and as they did so, I crawled out and succeeded in reaching my bunk, into which I tumbled unperceived. I was far from comfortable, however, fearing that that very night they might smother me—the mode I fancied they would take to put me out of existence.
I was not missed, I suppose, as no one called me, and when my watch on deck came round I turned out with the rest. My head ached, and I had a big lump on my forehead. In the morning, when the third mate saw me, he asked how I got that. I replied that it was the way I had got many another, that it was only what I expected, and had made up my mind to bear it.
“You’re a rum chap, and a bold one—more than I’d do,” answered the mate, not troubling himself more about the matter.
When I went aft to the cabin at breakfast, I heard one of the mates observe that we should make the coast of Australia that day. Then I thought to myself, “If I can get off I will.” I had no intention of going without provisions. I knew that a good store was kept in the pantry, to which I had access. My intention was to tumble everything I could find into a cloth, to tie it up, and to carry it off, if I could, unperceived to the dinghy.
How to lower that without being heard or seen by the watch on deck was the difficulty. The falls were so fitted that a single person might lower her, but then she would make a splash in the water.
We made the land about four o’clock in the afternoon, but after standing on for some time till it was nearly dark, the captain ordered the ship’s head to be put about, as he was not well acquainted with the coast, and there were dangerous reefs which ran off for a considerable distance.
Night came on, and a very dark night it was, but the darkness would favour my design. Instead of being allowed to turn in when it was my watch below, I was sent aft by the cook with a dish of devilled biscuits to the cabin, where the captain and the first and second mates were taking supper, while the third mate had the watch on deck. I intended it to be the last time I would turn into my bunk. I had not been long in the cabin before I observed that the captain and mates had been drinking, and seemed disposed to continue their debauch. The devilled biscuits which I had placed before them still farther incited their thirst, and the captain ordered another bottle of rum. I noticed that the steward, when I told him, got out two bottles, one of which he kept in the pantry while he took the other into the cabin.
“You’ll do to attend on the officers, Dick,” he said to me; “I’m going to enjoy myself.”
I stood ready to obey any orders I should receive. The conversation I heard was far from edifying, but I was too much engaged in thinking of my own project to attend to it.
As I was standing at the far end of the cabin I heard a crash. One of the mates had knocked over a couple of tumblers, and I was sent into the pantry to obtain others. I found the steward fast verging into a state of unconsciousness. He had been pulling away at the rum-bottle at a great rate, for fear he should not have time to finish it.
As I got the tumblers I cast my eyes round the pantry to see what articles of food I could most readily carry off. I saw the best part of a cold ham, an ample supply of biscuits and some pots of Chinese preserves, with several other things of less consequence.
Returning to the cabin I placed the tumblers on the table, and retired beyond the reach of the officers, having been taught by experience that they might at any moment think fit to give me a box on the ear or to knock me down. I watched them with intense interest, lest they should knock off before they were completely drunk. The third mate came into the cabin apparently to report something to the captain, but, seeing the state his commander was in, uttering a loud whew! He turned on his heel, and went out again, seeing the importance of keeping sober himself. I confess that I wished he had sat down with the others, and left the ship to take care of herself.
Soon afterwards, as I knew I should not be missed, I stole out of the cabin, and went into the pantry, where I quickly did up the provisions I intended to take with me. There was a jar of water, evidently quite full, which the steward kept ready for use.
I now went on deck to ascertain what chance I had of carrying out my design. I could discover no one excepting the man at the helm, and the third mate had, I concluded, to take a look-out. I hurried back to get the jar and provisions, and unperceived placed them in the dinghy. I felt about in her, and found two oars and a boat-hook.
The falls were, as I have said, so fitted that one person could lower the boat, but to do so without capsizing her when the ship was moving through the water was almost an impossible undertaking.
The wind had previously been very light, and the vessel had scarcely any steerage way on her. To my intense satisfaction I noticed that it was now almost a stark calm.
Now or never I must carry out my project. I thought not of the dangers to be encountered; the chances of being chased and overtaken; the savages on shore; the risk of starvation; the want of water; the current that might sweep me along; or the chances of a storm arising before I could gain the land. I had not a moment to lose. The mate remained forward; the man at the helm stood motionless, and, I hoped, was asleep. I slipped into the boat, and passing the slack of the falls under two thwarts, gently lowered myself down. I had, the day before, unobserved, thoroughly greased the blocks.
My chief fear now was, that the splash the boat would make on reaching the water would be heard. I therefore eased away with the greatest care, and stood ready in a moment to cast off the aft-most fall. I cleared it in the nick of time, and the boat was towed slowly ahead. I quickly cleared the foremost fall, and was now adrift. I was conscious that a light splash had been made, but I hoped that if the mate heard it he would fancy that it was caused by some monster of the deep rising above the surface. Without waiting to ascertain whether this was the case or not, I seized the oars and pulled rapidly away from the stern of the vessel, the light from the cabin window assisting me to keep the course I desired to make towards the land. I congratulated myself at having accomplished my object before it was too late, for I felt a breeze fanning my ears as I pulled on.
As I looked up at the tall masts, it seemed to me that the sails bulged out, and that the ship was rapidly increasing her distance from me. I was already a considerable way astern when I heard a loud hail. I recognised the voice of the mate, who had probably just discovered that the boat was gone. My fear was, that another would be lowered and sent in chase of me. This made me pull all the harder. My only idea was, to reach shore and escape from my persecutors. I dared not lose time by stopping even for a moment to listen for the sounds of a boat being lowered. I heard several other voices hail, but the ship stood on and gradually faded away in the gloom of night. I knew that being low in the water I could not be seen.
Presently I saw the flash of a musket; then another and another; but no shots came near me, and from this I was convinced that the third mate, or some one else, was firing at random. Had the captain or the other mates been in their right senses the ship would probably have been hove-to and two boats, at least, have been sent in chase of me. The third mate was, I suspect, afraid of heaving to on account of the reefs. He kept the ship, therefore, before the wind. Whatever the cause, I was thankful I was not pursued, and I trusted that the breeze would blow stronger and carry the ship farther and farther away from me.
Although, through there being no moon, the night was dark, and there was a mist which hung over the waters, yet I could observe overhead several stars, and as the lights from the cabin receded, I marked their position, and was thus able, with tolerable confidence, to continue my way towards the land. I fancied that I should be able to reach it early in the morning or during the next day. I at length began to grow weary, but as long as I could move my arms I determined to row on. The wind being off the land, the sea was perfectly calm. Scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface. I was too anxious to feel hunger or thirst. At the same time, the joy at having escaped kept up my spirits.
Under other circumstances I do not think I could have accomplished what I did. I fancied that I was pulling at the rate of four miles an hour, and that I was nearing the shore. At length, however, my fatigue overcame me, and I felt that I could row no more. The moment I stopped I felt very sleepy, but had sense sufficient to take in my oars and place them by my side. I then lay down in the bottom of the boat, intending to rest for a few minutes, after which, I expected again to be able to pull on.
As may be supposed, I was soon again fast asleep. My slumbers were peaceful and pleasant, rendered so, I presume, by the consciousness that I had escaped from the fate intended for me. I was awakened by a bright light flashing in my eyes. Opening them, I sprang up and found that the sun had just risen above the horizon. I looked eagerly around, dreading lest I should see the ship near me, but to my infinite relief she was not visible, nor was the land I had expected to see and so soon to reach. My little boat was the only object on the waste of waters.
The coast, I knew, was to the westward, and as the rising sun would guide me, I took out my oars and began to row away in that direction. I had not rowed long before I began to feel very hungry. I therefore again laid in my oars and took a hearty meal off the provisions I had brought, washing it down with an ample draught of water. Then I once more turned to, but the heat soon became excessive, and I was streaming at every pore. Still, as long as my strength lasted I determined not to give in. I occasionally stopped to take a pull at my water-bottle. With very little rest beside, I continued to paddle on till it was again dark. This showed me what had not occurred to me before, that I might have been rowing part of the time along the coast, instead of towards it, and I supposed that the ship had been much farther off than I had previously imagined. I had been in a dreamy state all day, and unable to think much. This was produced by the heat which beat down on my head. I felt somewhat revived as the sun set, but after a time excessive drowsiness came over me, and once more taking in my oars, I lay down to sleep.
I must have slept the whole night, for when I again woke, it was already dawn. I stood up and looked about me, when to my surprise I observed some rocks between myself in the boat and the bright light which heralded the rising sun. I must have been carried by a current inside them. I was about to row away to the westward, when as the light increased I saw what I at first thought was the mast of a small vessel or boat near them. Seizing my oars, I eagerly pulled towards the object. Again looking round I soon discovered it; it was not a mast, but a pole stuck in the rock with a cask or basket fixed on the top of it.
This was a sign that some civilised inhabitants must be on the neighbouring shore, and that they had placed that beacon to warn mariners of the dangers of the rock.
A number of sea-fowl circled over the rock, occasionally dipping their wings in the clear water.
As the sun rose, I made out the land running in a long line to a far distance, as I concluded north and south. It was now time for breakfast.
I had no intention of landing on the rock, for this would only cause delay. I took my ham out from the stern sheets, but as I did so, the horrible odour which saluted my nostrils made me certain that it would be impossible to eat it, and, except the dry biscuits, I had no other food. I managed with the aid of some water to masticate a fair quantity, but it might be a long time even now before I could gain the shore, and even then I might be disappointed in obtaining food. It then occurred to me that perhaps the sea-fowl made their nests on the rock, and that I might get some of their eggs, which would give me an ample supply of provisions for some time to come.
As I had once upon a time lived upon raw rats, I was not very particular; and even should I not obtain any eggs, I might find some young birds, which, though perhaps fishy in taste, would enable me to support existence. I therefore rowed towards the rock which I saw was of considerable extent, although one part only on which the beacon was placed rose a few feet above the surface.
The clearness of the atmosphere had deceived me as to the distance. I rowed on for some time before I reached it. Possibly also, there was a current against me, although that such was the case did not occur to me at the time.
The sea-fowl shrieked loudly and wildly as I approached, as if to warn me off from their domain. Some sat on the rock, others darted off and circled round and round the boat, but I was not to be deterred from landing by their threatening cries and movements. At last I got close to the rock, and found an indentation or little bay, into which I ran my boat.
Though several birds appeared, I found that they were merely resting on the rock, and that the water was too shallow to allow me to get close enough to step on shore.
In many places the seaweed grew so thickly, and was so slimy, that I was afraid to venture on it, lest it offering a treacherous foothold I should slip back into the water. At last I saw a point some distance from the beacon where I thought I could land, and secure the boat’s painter round a rough part of the coral rock. I succeeded in stepping on to it and making the rope fast; and confident that she would be secure, made my way along the rock with the assistance of the boat-hook. I found neither eggs nor young birds; indeed, on examining the rock, I knew that it must be covered occasionally, if not at every tide, by the water. Still I thought that I should find them at the higher part, near the beacon.
I accordingly scrambled on as well as I could, but here and there I came to a lower part of the rock over which the water washed, and I saw that to reach the beacon I must wade through it. I had to proceed very cautiously, for it was full of hollows and slippery in the extreme, and a fall might involve serious consequences.
The shriek of the birds, though it sounded rather pleasant at a distance, became almost deafening as I got nearer to them.
After going some way, I had to stop and rest, supporting myself on the boat-hook. I now saw, on looking round, that the sky which at sunrise had been bright and clear, was becoming fast covered with clouds. The wind, too, blew with much greater force than before. Still, as it came off the land, I hoped that it might not cause such a sea as would prevent me from continuing my voyage. I was too eager, also, to obtain some eggs or young birds to allow the subject to trouble me. I therefore continued scrambling along over the rocks, hoping to find what I was in search of nearer the beacon. I was by this time nearly wet through up to the middle, but that did not matter, as the hot sun soon dried my clothes. Having got on some distance without an accident, I perhaps became more careless; for when leaping from one rock to another, my foot slipped and I came down with a force which I thought must have broken my arm. I lay clutching the rock with the other hand, unable to move from the pain, while my boat-hook slipped from my grasp, and gliding into the water was borne away from the rock. I now saw that a rapid current was passing the rock, the influence of which I must have felt when approaching it in the boat. Without the boat-hook I should find it still more difficult to get along; but I knew that I must not stay where I was for ever, and as soon therefore as the pain allowed me, I rose to my feet and endeavoured to continue my scramble over the rocks.
I forgot that my return journey would be quite as difficult if not more so, as I should have no boat-hook, and at the same time should be loaded, I hoped, with eggs and birds. I went on and on, of course making very slow progress. At length I got close to the beacon, and great was my disappointment to find neither eggs nor young birds.
I searched round and round the rock in all directions, and I at last came to the conclusion that if the birds lay their eggs there at all the hatching season must have passed, and the young birds grown strong on the wing, and have flown away.
It was a great disappointment. As it was, I had had my difficult and tiring scramble for nothing, and had bruised my arm, though happily I had not broken it. I had also lost my boat-hook. I climbed to the higher part of the rock, and had a look at the land, which I judged was ten or twelve miles off at least. Still I hoped to accomplish that distance long before dark, and to find a harbour, as I supposed there was one, or it was not likely that the beacon could have been placed on the rock. I therefore, without further delay, began my return journey. As I went along, I found that some places where I had crossed had become much deeper. At length it occurred to me that the tide was rising. I had regained sight of my boat, which at a distance could not be distinguished from the black rocks, when it suddenly appeared to me that she was moving. I rushed on at the risk of breaking my legs. What was my dismay at seeing that she was already at a considerable distance from the rock where I had left her, and there seemed every probability that I should lose her altogether. In my terror I shouted and shrieked to her to stop. I was on the point of rushing into the water to try and overtake her when I saw a black fin glide by, followed by another, and the wicked eye of a shark glanced up at me, daring me to venture on the undertaking. My despair overcoming me, I sank down on the rock.
Chapter Nineteen.My adventures on the rock—My search for food, and what I found—The storm—Despite my perilous position, I marvel at the grandeur of the scene—The storm subsides—My search for clams, and further explorations on the rock—The darkest night must come to an end—A welcome wetting—My only refuge—Return of stormy weather—Perilous moments—I climb the beacon-post.I had gone through a few misadventures, but this was the most trying of all. After lying on the rock for a few minutes or more, I recovered sufficiently to recollect that the tide was rising, and that unless I could select a higher spot I should be swept off, and become a prey to the monsters I dreaded. I therefore got up, and trying to pull myself together again, endeavoured to reach the beacon, which would at all events afford me temporary shelter. When taking out the biscuits in the morning I had shoved several into my pocket, which would enable me to sustain existence until I could make signals to some passing boat or vessel. Having lost my boat-hook I made slower progress than before, and often with the greatest difficulty avoided falling. Two or three times I had to wade up to my middle, and I dreaded lest one of the sharks should have shoved his nose through the opening, and might snap me up. Still I went on. My anxiety made me forget the pain in my arm. Fortunately I was not indeed deprived of its use, and by degrees the pain went off.I was so much engaged, that I did not for some time observe how completely the weather had changed. The beacon on the rock was reached, and I sat down below it to rest myself after my exertions. I now saw that the sea, which had hitherto been so calm, had begun to heave. Sudden gusts blew across it, covering its surface with wavelets, which every moment increased in size. Dark clouds chased each other across the sky, and gathered in thick masses overhead. To my dismay I saw that a storm was rising. It rapidly came on, while the sea getting up with the same speed, completely swept over the lower part of the rock along which I had made my way.The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the seas began to beat with violence against the rock. Some of them came sweeping up to where I sat. I sprang to my feet, and stood gazing with awe and terror at the strife of the elements which raged around me. What hope, I thought, could I have of escaping. My boat gone; so far off from land that it was impossible I could be observed, while I could see no boats or vessels sailing over the whole expanse of ocean. Indeed had there been any coming from the shore, they would have put back into harbour when they saw the storm coming on. Still I was unharmed; I had biscuits enough in my pockets to keep soul and body together for a day or two longer, if I economised them as I intended to do. I might also find some shellfish; they would serve me for food for a much longer time, I therefore did not despair, but I was aware that at any moment the sea might sweep up and carry me off.With more calmness than I had given myself credit for possessing, I continued to survey the scene. I looked out again for my boat, thinking it possible that the current might drive her back to the rock, but she had been carried far beyond my ken. This made my heart sick. Knowing, however, that my life depended very much on my keeping up my courage, I endeavoured to muster all I possessed. I thought if I could climb up to the top of the rock and make a signal, it might be observed, should any boat when the storm was over come out from the shore, or should any vessel be passing. I could see no other rocks to the eastward; I supposed, therefore that this was the highest part of the reef, and that vessels acquainted with the coast might pass by within sight of it.I spent several hours, I can scarcely describe how. When my hunger became too ravenous to bear longer, I munched a small quantity of biscuit. At length, as I watched the seas, I observed that they did not approach so close to me, and I was convinced that the tide was again going down. I calculated, indeed, from the time I had been on the rock, that this must be the case, as it was already rising when I first landed, and I now hoped that I should be able to obtain some shellfish by going down to the lee-side, and cutting them off with my knife.The idea having once occurred to me, I lost no time in carrying it out. I had to be excessively cautious, for by a false step I might have slipped into the sea, and not have been able to regain my hold on the rock. After searching about for some time, I caught sight of a few clams, but they were not to be obtained without risk, as the sea surged up and recovered them. I fixed my eye on one, then rushing down, I cut it off and threw it up out of the reach of the water. I obtained two more in the same way; and in attempting to secure a fourth, the waves swept round the rock, almost covering me, and I had to cling on for my life, losing my clam and very nearly my life. This taught me to be more cautious than ever; but I managed notwithstanding to obtain three or four more, and as I could see none others above water, I had to content myself with those I had collected. Gathering those I had obtained together, I returned to the higher part of the rock, close under the beacon, where I was sheltered from the wind. I had no means of lighting a fire. There was no fuel on the rock to make one, and so I was compelled to eat the clams raw, with a little biscuit to make them more palatable. The whole day had passed away, and another night was coming on. I dreaded it, for I knew not what might happen during the hours of darkness.The storm had in no way abated, and I feared that when the tide again rose the sea might get still more over the rock. I had little idea, however, how fiercely it was about to do so. I have often spoken of my sleeping and waking, but thus our lives are spent. In spite of the storm raging around me, the seas thundering on the rock, and the wind whistling through the beacon, a drowsiness overpowered me, and I found myself dropping off to sleep. I was still conscious in some degree how I was situated. I felt all the time an overpowering sense of danger. Sometimes I was in my little boat, gliding calmly over the ocean; now I was suddenly chased by big waves, which threatened every instant to engulf me. Then I found myself cast upon the rock, my boat floating away, and tumbling and tossing till she disappeared. Now I was seated all alone, gazing out over the ocean, which rose and fell, and tossed before my eyes just as I had seen it in the daytime, only rising to a far greater height, and descending in a more furious fashion. This sort of confused dream continued while I was asleep. Now and then I awoke, only to hear the noises I have before described. The rock itself seemed quaking, as the seas with a thundering roar dashed against it. I could hear, too, the screams of the sea-birds as they swept round and round, disturbed from their usual resting-place, though many of them flew off, I suppose, to the far-away shores, or to other rocks perhaps higher out of the water.The night I had escaped from the “Emu” was very dark; but this was unfortunately darker, except when a flash of lightning darted from the sky and illumined the white foam which, lashed by the wind into spray, flew in sheets over the rock. I was soon wet to the skin. I felt chilly in the extreme. Even the most terrible night must come to an end.Morning broke, but cheerless as could well be. The sky was of one leaden hue, broken here and there by the clouds which hung lower down in the strata. The waves, when not covered by foam, were of the same tint. To sit where I was I found was impossible. I got up and walked about and stretched my legs. To my dismay I found that the rocks, which at the same hour the previous day were high out of the water, were now almost covered by the furious seas which rolled over them. I trembled to think what would be the case at high water. I should have liked to have got some more clams for breakfast, but I could see none, even after searching for them, and there was a great risk of being swept away, so I contented myself with taking one of those I had saved from the previous day, with a biscuit, for breakfast. I was already very thirsty, having had nothing to drink since I had left the boat, and would have welcomed a heavy shower from the dark clouds overhead. I continued to walk, or rather to climb about the rock, as there was but a very small level place on which I could walk.Then I sat down again, and with melancholy gaze watched the foaming seas, which I began to dread, as I saw them more and more frequently covering the rock, would prove my grave. At length I had to seek a higher and more exposed level, and as water occasionally surged up to the place where I had spent the night, and might at any moment sweep me off, I tried to nerve myself up to my fate.With difficulty I could restrain myself from drinking the sea-water. I was well aware of the danger of doing so, and resisted the temptation. At last, as I was looking up, I felt a drop fall on my face. It was not the spray of the sea. Another and another followed, and down came a copious shower. I opened my mouth, at the same time holding out my cap to the rain, hoping to get a little in it. I got but little, so I placed it on the rock and spread it open. I then took off my jacket, and held it out that it might be well wetted.I hoped also to find some hollow in the rock that might be rilled with fresh water. The rain came down, as it does in the tropics, in a perfect deluge. My jacket was wet through in a minute, and I was able to wring out of it a sufficient amount of fresh water to quench my burning thirst. After this I was able to eat some biscuits. It should be remembered that the tide reaches its height nearly three-quarters of an hour later every day. I watched with intense anxiety its rising this afternoon. Now it entirely covered the rocks where I had landed, then those over which I had made my way were concealed from view, and now it reached the base of the beacon-rock itself, against which the seas began to break with a fury surpassing that of the previous day.The spot on which I had been standing one minute was the next covered by the seething waters, when I retired to a higher level. Again and again a wave broke over the rock, and striking one of the almost perpendicular sides flew high into the air above my head. Every moment my hope of escape was becoming less and less. I cried to heaven for mercy. As I saw death drawing near, the desire to live increased. It seemed so terrible to have to die all alone away from friends and country.At last I was driven to the very foot of the beacon, and I clutched it as if it alone could afford me protection. I knew that I could not for a single moment stand upon the rock with the sea breaking over it, but the beacon itself withstood the furious waves. I had not as yet thought of climbing to it to see how it was fixed, but I now did so with intense anxiety. I found that the staff was of hard oak, and that it had been imbedded in a deep hole formed by art in the rock, and further secured by iron bars driven into it, and fastened round by iron hoops. This gave me some hopes that it would stand the fury of the seas should they rise high enough to strike it. That they would do this seemed every moment more probable.On every side around me they tossed and foamed and roared, as if eager to seize me. I frantically clutched the pole, which, from its size, I could with difficulty embrace. Even now, though my chance of escape seemed small indeed, I did not abandon all hope. A small line hung down through the bottom of the cask. I tried its strength. It would enable me, I found, to mount upwards, but I was unwilling to make the attempt, as I could not tell whether the cask was fixed securely enough to bear my weight. There I stood, my arms round the pole, clutching the rope with my hands, and awaiting my fate. That that ere long would come I was fully convinced.Though sea after sea broke on the rock, none actually touched me, though my feet occasionally were washed by the foam. To my surprise, and contrary to all my expectations, though the seas raged round me as fiercely as ever, the water sank, and as the sea rolled up it struck a lower level of the rock, and I began to hope once more that I should escape. Then I recollected that if the tides had not yet reached their extreme height, or the spring tides had not come on, the next day might prove fatal. Though the water had receded, I dare not leave the beacon-post, and kept clinging to it as my only comfort and friend. At length weary I sank down to rest, still grasping it in my arms. Thus hours passed away, even now too painful to think of. I ate the remainder of the biscuit, and then fell into a heavy slumber, which must have lasted many hours. I awoke to find that it was night, and that the tide was once more rising, as I knew by hearing the seas breaking on the rocks close to me. Already I was covered by the spray, which flew in showers over me. Had I slept on much longer I must have been swept away, and awakened only to find myself in the cruel grasp of the relentless waves. I might, however, now never see another sunrise. I prayed as I had never prayed before, and resolved to struggle to the last for life.Few have been placed in a more perilous position and escaped. I had the stout beacon to cling to. It had probably stood many a storm, but would it stand fast now? To that I held fast as before, but I feared that my strength would fail me, and that I might be torn away from it. I looked up at the cask above my head, wondering whether that would afford me an asylum I was unwilling, however, to exhaust my strength by attempting to climb the post. With increasing force the waves beat on the rock. Again and again it trembled from their blows, though I fancied, and almost expected, to find it washed away beneath my feet. I was wet through, and blinded by the spray. As I cleared my eyes, I could discern through the darkness the seas dancing up level with the rock on which I stood. Some appeared, as they rolled on meeting with no impediment, to be much higher. Then I saw one coming roaring and hissing along towards me. It broke with fearful force, and rushed over the rock higher than my knees.Had I not been firmly grasping the beacon-post, I should have been carried off my legs and washed helplessly away. I shrieked with terror as I saw another coming higher than the last. My cries were echoed by those of the wild sea-birds passing above. The foaming sea broke, and as I drew myself up the post, I found my legs floating behind me. A moment later, and my doom would have been sealed. I got up higher and higher. Now, as I looked down, I saw that I was surrounded by a tumultuous ocean, without a particle of rock on which to place the soles of my feet. I knew that all depended on my strength holding out. The beacon might stand fast, but I might be torn away. Had it been daylight I might better have endured the horrible position in which I was placed, but at night to be thus all alone, with the hungry waves leaping up and striving to snatch me from my holdfast, was truly dreadful.I wonder my senses did not give way. Sometimes I thought that it was only a dream, but I then knew it to be a fearful reality. With arms and legs clinging round the post, and my hands clutching the rope as I had never clutched rope before, I hung on. I was almost afraid to climb higher, lest my muscles failing me for a moment I should lose my grasp, and yet the cask was only a few feet above me. Suddenly I recollected that on board whalers casks are placed in the same manner as that was at the masthead, in order that the officers, protected in some degree, may in that position obtain a wide extended view in search of whales, and that they enter by a trap-door in the bottom. Should this beacon possess such a trap, I might get through it and obtain shelter and rest. But again a doubt crossed my mind whether I could climb up even thus far, without the risk of sliding down again into the sea.I looked down to see if the tide was once more receding, but the waves seemed still to be rising higher and higher. Some of their foam even sometimes now touched my feet as they swept over the rock. They might even cover the beacon itself; and if so, no human power could save me. After remaining quiet for some time, I felt as if I possessed sufficient strength, and resolved to make the attempt. With legs and arms and hands I worked my way up. I would have clung with my teeth to the rope could I have seized it. I was within a foot of the bottom of the cask, when I felt so exhausted that I thought I could get no higher. I looked down on the raging sea and then up at the only place which could afford me shelter. In the darkness I could not see whether or not there was a trap, and if there were one perhaps I might not be able to force it open, and, exhausted by the effort, might drop into the water. I dreaded the risk, but it must be run.Nerving myself up to the undertaking, I slowly and carefully began to work my way higher up. My head struck the cask. I put up my hand, the bottom yielded, and now exerting all my remaining strength I seized the edges and drew myself up, holding well on with my hands and feet until I had got my head and shoulders into the interior. Throwing myself on my chest, I felt round and discovered some beckets, evidently intended for the purpose of enabling a person situated as I was to draw himself up. I then, grasping the rope which hung from the top of the pole which passed through the cask, dragged myself up and placed my feet at the bottom. I pressed down the trap. I felt more secure than I had been for many hours. Had I not still had a post to cling to after the strain my muscles had so long endured, I could not have stood upright.Several cross-pieces secured the top of the cask to the post. I shoved my head through them, and could now look down on the wild and raging waters with which I was surrounded. Still I dare not quit my hold of the post, fancying that if I pressed on one side of the cask or the other, it might give way. Not that there was the slightest chance of that in reality. I did not long contemplate the fearful scene, but overcome by what I had gone through, I sank down to the bottom of the cask, and, wet and cold as I was, fell into a troubled slumber.
My adventures on the rock—My search for food, and what I found—The storm—Despite my perilous position, I marvel at the grandeur of the scene—The storm subsides—My search for clams, and further explorations on the rock—The darkest night must come to an end—A welcome wetting—My only refuge—Return of stormy weather—Perilous moments—I climb the beacon-post.
My adventures on the rock—My search for food, and what I found—The storm—Despite my perilous position, I marvel at the grandeur of the scene—The storm subsides—My search for clams, and further explorations on the rock—The darkest night must come to an end—A welcome wetting—My only refuge—Return of stormy weather—Perilous moments—I climb the beacon-post.
I had gone through a few misadventures, but this was the most trying of all. After lying on the rock for a few minutes or more, I recovered sufficiently to recollect that the tide was rising, and that unless I could select a higher spot I should be swept off, and become a prey to the monsters I dreaded. I therefore got up, and trying to pull myself together again, endeavoured to reach the beacon, which would at all events afford me temporary shelter. When taking out the biscuits in the morning I had shoved several into my pocket, which would enable me to sustain existence until I could make signals to some passing boat or vessel. Having lost my boat-hook I made slower progress than before, and often with the greatest difficulty avoided falling. Two or three times I had to wade up to my middle, and I dreaded lest one of the sharks should have shoved his nose through the opening, and might snap me up. Still I went on. My anxiety made me forget the pain in my arm. Fortunately I was not indeed deprived of its use, and by degrees the pain went off.
I was so much engaged, that I did not for some time observe how completely the weather had changed. The beacon on the rock was reached, and I sat down below it to rest myself after my exertions. I now saw that the sea, which had hitherto been so calm, had begun to heave. Sudden gusts blew across it, covering its surface with wavelets, which every moment increased in size. Dark clouds chased each other across the sky, and gathered in thick masses overhead. To my dismay I saw that a storm was rising. It rapidly came on, while the sea getting up with the same speed, completely swept over the lower part of the rock along which I had made my way.
The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the seas began to beat with violence against the rock. Some of them came sweeping up to where I sat. I sprang to my feet, and stood gazing with awe and terror at the strife of the elements which raged around me. What hope, I thought, could I have of escaping. My boat gone; so far off from land that it was impossible I could be observed, while I could see no boats or vessels sailing over the whole expanse of ocean. Indeed had there been any coming from the shore, they would have put back into harbour when they saw the storm coming on. Still I was unharmed; I had biscuits enough in my pockets to keep soul and body together for a day or two longer, if I economised them as I intended to do. I might also find some shellfish; they would serve me for food for a much longer time, I therefore did not despair, but I was aware that at any moment the sea might sweep up and carry me off.
With more calmness than I had given myself credit for possessing, I continued to survey the scene. I looked out again for my boat, thinking it possible that the current might drive her back to the rock, but she had been carried far beyond my ken. This made my heart sick. Knowing, however, that my life depended very much on my keeping up my courage, I endeavoured to muster all I possessed. I thought if I could climb up to the top of the rock and make a signal, it might be observed, should any boat when the storm was over come out from the shore, or should any vessel be passing. I could see no other rocks to the eastward; I supposed, therefore that this was the highest part of the reef, and that vessels acquainted with the coast might pass by within sight of it.
I spent several hours, I can scarcely describe how. When my hunger became too ravenous to bear longer, I munched a small quantity of biscuit. At length, as I watched the seas, I observed that they did not approach so close to me, and I was convinced that the tide was again going down. I calculated, indeed, from the time I had been on the rock, that this must be the case, as it was already rising when I first landed, and I now hoped that I should be able to obtain some shellfish by going down to the lee-side, and cutting them off with my knife.
The idea having once occurred to me, I lost no time in carrying it out. I had to be excessively cautious, for by a false step I might have slipped into the sea, and not have been able to regain my hold on the rock. After searching about for some time, I caught sight of a few clams, but they were not to be obtained without risk, as the sea surged up and recovered them. I fixed my eye on one, then rushing down, I cut it off and threw it up out of the reach of the water. I obtained two more in the same way; and in attempting to secure a fourth, the waves swept round the rock, almost covering me, and I had to cling on for my life, losing my clam and very nearly my life. This taught me to be more cautious than ever; but I managed notwithstanding to obtain three or four more, and as I could see none others above water, I had to content myself with those I had collected. Gathering those I had obtained together, I returned to the higher part of the rock, close under the beacon, where I was sheltered from the wind. I had no means of lighting a fire. There was no fuel on the rock to make one, and so I was compelled to eat the clams raw, with a little biscuit to make them more palatable. The whole day had passed away, and another night was coming on. I dreaded it, for I knew not what might happen during the hours of darkness.
The storm had in no way abated, and I feared that when the tide again rose the sea might get still more over the rock. I had little idea, however, how fiercely it was about to do so. I have often spoken of my sleeping and waking, but thus our lives are spent. In spite of the storm raging around me, the seas thundering on the rock, and the wind whistling through the beacon, a drowsiness overpowered me, and I found myself dropping off to sleep. I was still conscious in some degree how I was situated. I felt all the time an overpowering sense of danger. Sometimes I was in my little boat, gliding calmly over the ocean; now I was suddenly chased by big waves, which threatened every instant to engulf me. Then I found myself cast upon the rock, my boat floating away, and tumbling and tossing till she disappeared. Now I was seated all alone, gazing out over the ocean, which rose and fell, and tossed before my eyes just as I had seen it in the daytime, only rising to a far greater height, and descending in a more furious fashion. This sort of confused dream continued while I was asleep. Now and then I awoke, only to hear the noises I have before described. The rock itself seemed quaking, as the seas with a thundering roar dashed against it. I could hear, too, the screams of the sea-birds as they swept round and round, disturbed from their usual resting-place, though many of them flew off, I suppose, to the far-away shores, or to other rocks perhaps higher out of the water.
The night I had escaped from the “Emu” was very dark; but this was unfortunately darker, except when a flash of lightning darted from the sky and illumined the white foam which, lashed by the wind into spray, flew in sheets over the rock. I was soon wet to the skin. I felt chilly in the extreme. Even the most terrible night must come to an end.
Morning broke, but cheerless as could well be. The sky was of one leaden hue, broken here and there by the clouds which hung lower down in the strata. The waves, when not covered by foam, were of the same tint. To sit where I was I found was impossible. I got up and walked about and stretched my legs. To my dismay I found that the rocks, which at the same hour the previous day were high out of the water, were now almost covered by the furious seas which rolled over them. I trembled to think what would be the case at high water. I should have liked to have got some more clams for breakfast, but I could see none, even after searching for them, and there was a great risk of being swept away, so I contented myself with taking one of those I had saved from the previous day, with a biscuit, for breakfast. I was already very thirsty, having had nothing to drink since I had left the boat, and would have welcomed a heavy shower from the dark clouds overhead. I continued to walk, or rather to climb about the rock, as there was but a very small level place on which I could walk.
Then I sat down again, and with melancholy gaze watched the foaming seas, which I began to dread, as I saw them more and more frequently covering the rock, would prove my grave. At length I had to seek a higher and more exposed level, and as water occasionally surged up to the place where I had spent the night, and might at any moment sweep me off, I tried to nerve myself up to my fate.
With difficulty I could restrain myself from drinking the sea-water. I was well aware of the danger of doing so, and resisted the temptation. At last, as I was looking up, I felt a drop fall on my face. It was not the spray of the sea. Another and another followed, and down came a copious shower. I opened my mouth, at the same time holding out my cap to the rain, hoping to get a little in it. I got but little, so I placed it on the rock and spread it open. I then took off my jacket, and held it out that it might be well wetted.
I hoped also to find some hollow in the rock that might be rilled with fresh water. The rain came down, as it does in the tropics, in a perfect deluge. My jacket was wet through in a minute, and I was able to wring out of it a sufficient amount of fresh water to quench my burning thirst. After this I was able to eat some biscuits. It should be remembered that the tide reaches its height nearly three-quarters of an hour later every day. I watched with intense anxiety its rising this afternoon. Now it entirely covered the rocks where I had landed, then those over which I had made my way were concealed from view, and now it reached the base of the beacon-rock itself, against which the seas began to break with a fury surpassing that of the previous day.
The spot on which I had been standing one minute was the next covered by the seething waters, when I retired to a higher level. Again and again a wave broke over the rock, and striking one of the almost perpendicular sides flew high into the air above my head. Every moment my hope of escape was becoming less and less. I cried to heaven for mercy. As I saw death drawing near, the desire to live increased. It seemed so terrible to have to die all alone away from friends and country.
At last I was driven to the very foot of the beacon, and I clutched it as if it alone could afford me protection. I knew that I could not for a single moment stand upon the rock with the sea breaking over it, but the beacon itself withstood the furious waves. I had not as yet thought of climbing to it to see how it was fixed, but I now did so with intense anxiety. I found that the staff was of hard oak, and that it had been imbedded in a deep hole formed by art in the rock, and further secured by iron bars driven into it, and fastened round by iron hoops. This gave me some hopes that it would stand the fury of the seas should they rise high enough to strike it. That they would do this seemed every moment more probable.
On every side around me they tossed and foamed and roared, as if eager to seize me. I frantically clutched the pole, which, from its size, I could with difficulty embrace. Even now, though my chance of escape seemed small indeed, I did not abandon all hope. A small line hung down through the bottom of the cask. I tried its strength. It would enable me, I found, to mount upwards, but I was unwilling to make the attempt, as I could not tell whether the cask was fixed securely enough to bear my weight. There I stood, my arms round the pole, clutching the rope with my hands, and awaiting my fate. That that ere long would come I was fully convinced.
Though sea after sea broke on the rock, none actually touched me, though my feet occasionally were washed by the foam. To my surprise, and contrary to all my expectations, though the seas raged round me as fiercely as ever, the water sank, and as the sea rolled up it struck a lower level of the rock, and I began to hope once more that I should escape. Then I recollected that if the tides had not yet reached their extreme height, or the spring tides had not come on, the next day might prove fatal. Though the water had receded, I dare not leave the beacon-post, and kept clinging to it as my only comfort and friend. At length weary I sank down to rest, still grasping it in my arms. Thus hours passed away, even now too painful to think of. I ate the remainder of the biscuit, and then fell into a heavy slumber, which must have lasted many hours. I awoke to find that it was night, and that the tide was once more rising, as I knew by hearing the seas breaking on the rocks close to me. Already I was covered by the spray, which flew in showers over me. Had I slept on much longer I must have been swept away, and awakened only to find myself in the cruel grasp of the relentless waves. I might, however, now never see another sunrise. I prayed as I had never prayed before, and resolved to struggle to the last for life.
Few have been placed in a more perilous position and escaped. I had the stout beacon to cling to. It had probably stood many a storm, but would it stand fast now? To that I held fast as before, but I feared that my strength would fail me, and that I might be torn away from it. I looked up at the cask above my head, wondering whether that would afford me an asylum I was unwilling, however, to exhaust my strength by attempting to climb the post. With increasing force the waves beat on the rock. Again and again it trembled from their blows, though I fancied, and almost expected, to find it washed away beneath my feet. I was wet through, and blinded by the spray. As I cleared my eyes, I could discern through the darkness the seas dancing up level with the rock on which I stood. Some appeared, as they rolled on meeting with no impediment, to be much higher. Then I saw one coming roaring and hissing along towards me. It broke with fearful force, and rushed over the rock higher than my knees.
Had I not been firmly grasping the beacon-post, I should have been carried off my legs and washed helplessly away. I shrieked with terror as I saw another coming higher than the last. My cries were echoed by those of the wild sea-birds passing above. The foaming sea broke, and as I drew myself up the post, I found my legs floating behind me. A moment later, and my doom would have been sealed. I got up higher and higher. Now, as I looked down, I saw that I was surrounded by a tumultuous ocean, without a particle of rock on which to place the soles of my feet. I knew that all depended on my strength holding out. The beacon might stand fast, but I might be torn away. Had it been daylight I might better have endured the horrible position in which I was placed, but at night to be thus all alone, with the hungry waves leaping up and striving to snatch me from my holdfast, was truly dreadful.
I wonder my senses did not give way. Sometimes I thought that it was only a dream, but I then knew it to be a fearful reality. With arms and legs clinging round the post, and my hands clutching the rope as I had never clutched rope before, I hung on. I was almost afraid to climb higher, lest my muscles failing me for a moment I should lose my grasp, and yet the cask was only a few feet above me. Suddenly I recollected that on board whalers casks are placed in the same manner as that was at the masthead, in order that the officers, protected in some degree, may in that position obtain a wide extended view in search of whales, and that they enter by a trap-door in the bottom. Should this beacon possess such a trap, I might get through it and obtain shelter and rest. But again a doubt crossed my mind whether I could climb up even thus far, without the risk of sliding down again into the sea.
I looked down to see if the tide was once more receding, but the waves seemed still to be rising higher and higher. Some of their foam even sometimes now touched my feet as they swept over the rock. They might even cover the beacon itself; and if so, no human power could save me. After remaining quiet for some time, I felt as if I possessed sufficient strength, and resolved to make the attempt. With legs and arms and hands I worked my way up. I would have clung with my teeth to the rope could I have seized it. I was within a foot of the bottom of the cask, when I felt so exhausted that I thought I could get no higher. I looked down on the raging sea and then up at the only place which could afford me shelter. In the darkness I could not see whether or not there was a trap, and if there were one perhaps I might not be able to force it open, and, exhausted by the effort, might drop into the water. I dreaded the risk, but it must be run.
Nerving myself up to the undertaking, I slowly and carefully began to work my way higher up. My head struck the cask. I put up my hand, the bottom yielded, and now exerting all my remaining strength I seized the edges and drew myself up, holding well on with my hands and feet until I had got my head and shoulders into the interior. Throwing myself on my chest, I felt round and discovered some beckets, evidently intended for the purpose of enabling a person situated as I was to draw himself up. I then, grasping the rope which hung from the top of the pole which passed through the cask, dragged myself up and placed my feet at the bottom. I pressed down the trap. I felt more secure than I had been for many hours. Had I not still had a post to cling to after the strain my muscles had so long endured, I could not have stood upright.
Several cross-pieces secured the top of the cask to the post. I shoved my head through them, and could now look down on the wild and raging waters with which I was surrounded. Still I dare not quit my hold of the post, fancying that if I pressed on one side of the cask or the other, it might give way. Not that there was the slightest chance of that in reality. I did not long contemplate the fearful scene, but overcome by what I had gone through, I sank down to the bottom of the cask, and, wet and cold as I was, fell into a troubled slumber.
Chapter Twenty.In the beacon—The storm continues—The tide turns—I again seek for food—I meet with another accident—Brighter weather—A sail in sight—My hopes and fears—My signal—My rescue—A voice from the deep—Three old friends meet again—On board the “Falcon”—The good captain—Sydney harbour, and why I did not go ashore there—The homeward voyage—Mark and I learn navigation—My reception at Liverpool—Sad, sad news—My journey to Sandgate—I enter Mr Butterfield’s office, and have had no cause to regret doing so.I awoke to find the storm still raging around me; but as I opened my eyes I was sensible that a faint light came in from the top of the cask. I was cramped with the uncomfortable position in which I had been sleeping. When I looked out over the edge of the cask, though the seas were tossing as wildly as before, I perceived that the rock below me was once more uncovered, owing, as I knew, to the tide having ebbed. At first I thought of descending; then I recollected that the waters might again rise to their former level, and I feared that I might not have strength to regain my sheltering-place. I therefore remained where I was. I shortly began to feel the pangs of hunger and thirst. I eagerly felt in my pocket for some biscuit, forgetting that I had consumed the last the night before. I found a few crumbs, and with difficulty got them down, having no water to moisten my dry mouth. Still, the wet state of my clothes prevented me from suffering so much from thirst as I should otherwise have done.The storm, I knew, would not last for ever. Should it continue much longer, however, I might succumb before I could possibly be relieved; but having been hitherto so mercifully preserved, I did not despair. Feeling weary of standing, I again crouched down at the bottom of the cask. I had reason to bless the persons who had placed it there. As I thus sat, half asleep and half awake, it seemed to me that the wind blew with less violence than it had done before. I got up to ascertain if this was the case. On looking round I felt confident that it was so. It appeared to me, also, that the seas were tumbling about with less violence than they had done on the previous day. If so, they might not again cover the rock. I was well accustomed to notice the tides on our own shore, and I remembered that, after the highest of the spring tides, they were said by the fishermen to “take off”—that is, to rise to a less elevation every subsequent day. Thus, even should the storm continue, the rock might not again be covered. This idea brought considerable relief to me.My hunger made me resolve to descend to search for clams. Perhaps I should find a fish thrown on the rock. The thought of obtaining some food made me get down at once. I opened the trap, and, grasping the rope, slid down with perfect ease. Already the rocks over which I had clambered from the boat were bare, for the tide had fallen rapidly. I knew that it would fall in proportion as it had risen. I went as close to the edge as I could venture without running the risk of being carried off. The rocks, which were washed by the fierce seas, were slippery in the extreme, and I feared that any clams clinging to them must have been washed away. Still, hunger urged me on. I made my way along the top of the coral reef. I observed several small pools ahead. There must be creatures of some sort within, which would enable me to satisfy the cravings of hunger. I had gone some little distance, when I slipped, and came down on the rock. In my weak state I felt unable again to rise for some minutes, though I was not seriously hurt.The clouds, some time before this, began to break, and suddenly the sun shone forth, his warm rays cheering me up. As I cast my eyes round, something glittered brightly just for a moment in one of the pools. Rising with renewed strength, I scrambled, faster than I had moved before, towards it, and great was my delight to see a good-sized fish floundering in the pool. It attempted to escape me, but I pounced down upon it as a sea-bird would have done, and, giving it a blow on the head, quickly despatched it. I was too hungry to wait even to partially prepare it by hanging it up in the sun, and, taking out my knife, quickly cut some slices from the thickest part of the body. I did not stop to consider whether it was wholesome, but ate it raw as it was. I looked about in the hope of finding another, and was successful; it was of the same species as the first. I could exist now without the clams; and, therefore, thinking it prudent not to run any risk in trying to obtain them, I returned to the beacon.By this time the wind had fallen to a moderate breeze, though the seas still continued rolling on with foaming crests, but far less wildly than before, and were evidently decreasing in height. The atmosphere having cleared, I was able to distinguish the distant shore, which had the appearance of a blue irregular line to the westward. Again and again I turned my eyes seaward, in hopes of seeing a passing ship, which might stand near enough to observe me. I was disappointed; not a sail came in sight, and another night approached. The waters covered some of the rocks, but only for a short time, when the tide again ran out. Still I was unwilling to sleep upon the cold rock, and, taking my second fish, having consumed the first to the bones, I climbed up again into the tub. Having coiled myself away round the bottom, I was soon fast asleep. My slumbers were peaceful and quiet. The gentle wind produced no sound round the cask; the roar of the surf on the rocks had ceased. I slept the whole night through, and not till the sun had risen out of the ocean did I wake. I at once stood up and looked round me. A light breeze from the northward sent the wavelets rippling against the rock. The sea was otherwise perfectly calm, and glowed in the rays of the bright orb of day.I looked landwards, in the expectation of seeing some vessels come out of the harbour, which, I thought, could not be far off, but none appeared. Then I gazed anxiously to the northward, and round the horizon in all directions. Presently I saw a spot appear of snowy whiteness, glittering in the rays of the sun. It rapidly increased in size. “A sail! A sail!” I shouted, though there was no one to hear me. I soon perceived that she was a large ship. First her topgallant sails, then her topsails, rose out of the water. I was so intently watching her that I forgot for a time to take my meal. As may be supposed, I turned many a look towards the ship. She was standing towards me, running before the wind along the coast. At last her courses, and then her hull, appeared, and I fancied that I could almost see the people moving on her deck. I was congratulating myself that I should have a speedy deliverance, when the thought came to me that she might be the “Emu.”If I were discovered I should be worse treated than before. I had not so often seen the ship on which I had spent so many dreary months, to be certain about her appearance at a distance. I trembled lest I should be right, though she had been steering in a different direction. As the stranger approached, I became more and more convinced that she was not the “Emu.” Still I felt a feeling of uncertainty on the subject. Should I make a signal, and try to attract the attention of those on board? The beacon would certainly be observed; perhaps they were looking out for it. Had I possessed a supply of water, I might have hesitated longer; but my perilous position determined me at all risks to make a signal. I watched till the ship came nearly abreast of the beacon, when, stripping off my shirt, I climbed as high as I could, until I reached the cask. I waved the shirt frantically. In my eagerness I shouted also, though I might have known that my puny voice could not be heard. For some time it appeared to me that I was waving in vain; and then, what was my dismay to see the ship’s head turned away from the shore. I was deserted.Presently the sheets were let fly, the main-topsail was backed against the mast. She hove-to. I almost fell from my post with joy as I saw a boat lowered, which came rapidly pulling towards the rock. Putting on my shirt—it was now perfectly dry—I descended from my perch to the rock, and there stood eagerly watching the boat. Again a thought occurred to me, that she might, after all, be the “Emu,” and in another few minutes I might be in the clutches of old Growles and the boatswain, and my other persecutors. But as I strained my eyes to discern their countenances. I became aware that none of the “Emu’s” crew were there. As far as I could make out, they were all perfect strangers. The boat steered for the lee-side of the rock. I hurried down to meet them.“Why, my lad, who are you, and how came you here?” exclaimed one of the strangers. “Has your ship gone to the bottom?”“That’s more than I can say,” I answered; “I came in a boat. The boat floated away, and I have been left here.”“What ship do you belong to?” asked the stranger.“The ‘Emu,’” I answered, thinking it was as well to acknowledge this much.“The ‘Emu!’” he exclaimed. “Why, who are you? Let me let me look at you. Don’t you know me, Dick?” and he grasped my hand. I looked at him hard.“Why, if I didn’t think you were at the bottom of the sea, I should have declared that you were Tom Trivett.”“And so I am,” he said, “though I’m not at the bottom of the sea, and right glad I am to find you, Dick, out of that dreadful ship. Come along, we mustn’t stand talking here; we were sent to bring you off, and, judging by your looks, the sooner you’re on board the better.”“Yes, indeed,” I answered, “for I find it a hard matter to speak from the dryness in my throat; I haven’t tasted water for a couple of days, and if you had not come I don’t suppose I should have held out much longer, with the hot sun shining down on my head.”“Well, I am glad,” cried Tom, as he, with the aid of another hand, who was the third mate of the ship, helped me into the boat. She immediately shoved off, and pulled towards the ship.“Who would have thought of finding you, Dick, all alone by yourself out on yonder rock?” said Tom, who was pulling stroke oar. “However, wonders never end. There’s another old shipmate of yours on board, whom you’ll be glad to see, I have a notion; and not a little surprised either, if you thought that he was left to perish on the Falkland Islands.”“What! Do you mean Mark Riddle?” I asked.“Yes, Mark himself,” he said. “He didn’t die, or he wouldn’t be on board the ‘Falcon.’ We found him about ten days after. He had been pretty well worn out, but still with life enough in him to crawl down to the beach when we put in for water.”“I am glad, I am glad!” I said, though I could say little more, and was unable to ask Tom how he had escaped.The mate put questions to me which I was unable to answer; indeed I was almost fainting before I was lifted up the side of the “Falcon.” One of the first persons I set eyes on was Mark Riddle. He was much grown and bronzed. Had I not been aware that he was on board, I should not at first have known him; nor did he guess who I was till Tom told him, when he sprang to my side, and warmly grasped my hand. He forbore asking questions, as he saw that I was not in a state to reply. The first thing Tom did was to bring me a mug of water, which I eagerly drank. After that the captain ordered that I should be carried to a spare berth in the cabin.“We must have him there, that he may be properly looked after. He’ll be better off than in the forepeak,” he said.From this I guessed that he was a kind-hearted man, very different to Captain Longfleet. In a short time some broth and a fresh roll baked on board were brought to me, and I was not so far gone that I was prevented from thankfully swallowing the food. It revived me greatly, and when Captain Mason looked in on me shortly afterwards, I was able to answer all the questions he put to me. I confessed who I was, and how I had come to sea. When he heard that I was the son of a clergyman, and related to Mr Butterfield, he was even kinder than before; though he did not, I suspect, quite believe my account.“Truth should be adhered to, my lad, under all circumstances,” he observed. “Are you quite sure that you did not run away?”“I thought of doing so, sir; but I was carried off exactly as I have told you, and I was very sorry for it afterwards.”“You have been severely punished for it, and I am afraid have caused great anxiety and grief to your friends. You might have lost your life, though you have been preserved in God’s good providence, and when you get home I hope you will make amends for your fault. It is all you can do,” he observed.The state of the ship contrasted greatly with that of the “Emu.” After a sound sleep, I was able the next day to get about, though I still remained somewhat sick and weak. Tom told me that the “Falcon” was the happiest ship he had ever been aboard. The crew were generally orderly and well behaved. Mark corroborated what Tom said.As soon as I was strong enough, I begged that I might be allowed to do duty on board, so that I might not pass my time idly. To this Captain Mason willingly agreed. I was separated more than I liked from Mark, but he told me that he was not jealous.“But I say, Dick,” he said, “if you could teach me, when it’s my watch below, some of the navigation and other things you’re learning, I should be very much obliged.”I willingly promised to do this; and, as he came down to the spar-deck, we at once set to work, and every day I imparted to him the knowledge I had obtained. One day the first mate, who was a very kind man, found us thus engaged. He said nothing at the time, but afterwards asked me if Riddle was very anxious to learn navigation. I told him that he was. He reported this to the captain, who told Mark that he could come into the cabin and study with the rest of us.Our studies were interrupted when the ship entered Sydney harbour. We lay there for some days, discharging our cargo, and taking on board bales of wool, which was now being produced in considerable quantities in that magnificent country, though the shipments of a whole year were not equal to what was afterwards exported in a month.As I knew that the “Emu” was bound for Sydney, I anxiously inquired whether she was there. She had not come in; but, as I thought she might possibly make her appearance, I was afraid to go on shore, lest I should encounter Captain Longfleet or the mates or the men. I felt sure, should they see me, that I should be captured, carried on board, and punished tremendously for stealing the boat. On returning on board, however, one day, Tom Trivett told me that he had heard a report that the “Emu” had been lost in a gale which had occurred some time before, as part of her stern had been picked up with her name upon it. This account having been confirmed, left no doubt on my mind as to her having been wrecked, and, as none of those on board ever appeared, that all had perished. I had thus still greater reason than ever to be thankful that I had made my escape from her when I did. But Captain Mason blamed me for the way in which I had done so.“You’ve done many things that were wrong, my lad,” he said, “there’s no doubt about that; but all I can urge you is to be heartily sorry for them.”I confess I found it very difficult to be sorry that I had run away with the boat, since I had saved my life by so doing. Then I might afterwards have lost it on the rock; and the matter has been a very puzzling one to me ever since.We sailed with a fair wind, which carried us down the coast of Australia. The wind then shifted to the eastward, and we passed through Bass’s Straits, between the mighty continent and Van Diemen’s Land, as it was at that time called, the captain intending to go home by the Cape of Good Hope instead of across the Pacific and round Cape Horn, as ships of the present day generally do.I have few incidents to describe during our homeward voyage. I was far happier than I had been on board the “Emu.” Somehow or other I had no longer that affection for a sea life which I fancied I possessed. I dreaded, however, the reception I should meet with, on my return home, from Aunt Deb and Mr Butterfield, and from my father and brothers and sisters. The only person who I knew would receive me affectionately was my mother. I was very certain of it. I was half inclined, from fear of the upbraiding that I should get from the rest of my family, to beg Captain Mason to let me remain on board, and to make another voyage with him, expecting that I should regain my love for the ocean. I at last mentioned the subject.“I would willingly do so, my lad, if your father and friends think it best you should become a sailor, but I cannot consent to act contrary to their wishes. You must at once, on landing, present yourself to Mr Butterfield; and as I am acquainted with him, I will accompany you and state how I have had the satisfaction of rescuing you from the perilous position in which you were placed.”I thanked the captain very much for his offer, as I felt that I should have much more confidence in his presence than if I had gone alone. Still, as we ran up the Irish Channel and sighted the Welsh coast, I felt very nervous, and could scarcely attend to my duties. At length we entered the Mersey and dropped anchor off Liverpool. As soon as the ship had been taken into dock, and the captain was at liberty, he sent for me, and we walked together to Mr Butterfield’s office, where we were at once shown into his private room. The old gentleman did not recognise me, I was so grown and altered. When Captain Mason said who I was, he started, and, eyeing me keenly, at last took my hand.“I’m thankful to see you again, my boy,” he said; “but you have caused your aunt and me much anxiety, and trouble and sorrow to others of your family; but I won’t say just now what has happened. Your aunt will tell you that, by-and-by. I am unwilling to grieve your heart on first landing on your native shore.”I did not then understand what he meant; but as his manner was kind, I congratulated myself on escaping the upbraiding I expected from him, at all events. Captain Mason having much business to get through, rose to take his leave, when Mr Butterfield expressed his desire to repay him for the trouble and expense he had been put to on my account.“Pray don’t speak of it, my kind sir,” answered the worthy captain; “I am amply repaid by the satisfaction I feel at restoring the lad to his friends;” and shaking me warmly by the hand, he left the office.As it was late in the day, Mr Butterfield having signed a few letters, said he was ready to go home, and desired me to accompany him. As we walked along together, he questioned me about my adventures, seeming rather incredulous when I assured him that I had not intentionally run away to sea.“Well, well, Dick, we’ll let by-gones be by-gones. I shall be glad to see you act rightly in future.”I inquired if Aunt Deb was still with him.“She returned to your father soon after you disappeared, and has only lately come back to pay me another visit,” he answered.I confess I wished she had stayed at home. However, I had to face her, though I felt very nervous about the interview.“I don’t think she will recognise you, and I won’t tell her who you are,” he said, as I entered the house.We went into the drawing-room, where we found Aunt Deb seated in a high-backed chair.“Here’s a young gentleman come from the sea. He’s come to dine with us,” said Mr Butterfield.Aunt Deb rose from her seat, gave me a stiff bow, and sank down again on her seat. “I have no affection for the sea, or generally for those whose profession it is to sail upon it,” she said, looking hard at me. “There are exceptions to every rule, and I hope that this young gentleman will show that he doesn’t possess the objectionable manners and customs of sailors.”“I trust you will not be mistaken in the favourable opinion you form of me, Madam,” I said, as stiffly as I could. “But I venture to think that you are prejudiced against seafaring men. Let me assure you, however, that there are many estimable persons among them, though there are some as bad as any to be found on shore. You once had a nephew who went away to sea. I hope that you don’t class him among the bad ones.”“I class him among the very worst,” she exclaimed. “He ran off without leave, without wishing me, his kind aunt, farewell, or letting us know where he had gone, or what had become of him. He made us all very miserable, and broke his poor mother’s heart.”“My mother dead!” I exclaimed. “Oh, don’t say that, don’t say that! And I killed her.”“Who are you?” cried Aunt Deb, starting up and looking me in the face.“Yes; I do believe that you are that graceless young monkey, Dick!”“I am indeed your nephew, Dick. I am indeed heartily sorry for all I have done, and shall never forgive myself if my conduct was the cause of my mother’s death. Did I not mistake what you said? Oh, Aunt Deb, do tell me is she really dead?” and I grasped her hands and burst into tears.She was moved as I spoke more than I could have expected; and instead of further upbraiding me, tried to soothe the anguish I felt. I was indeed severely punished for my thoughtless conduct, to say the best of it.Mr Butterfield spoke to me more kindly than I expected or deserved, and when he again offered me a seat in his counting-house, and assured me that he would endeavour to further my interests and raise me according to my deserts, I thankfully accepted his proposal.Before, however, commencing my career as a merchant, he allowed me to go home and see my father, who, I need not say, received me according to the dictates of his affectionate heart, without uttering a word of blame. My brothers and sisters were never tired of hearing of my adventures while I remained with them. On my mother’s grave I promised to do my duty to the best of my power in the new situation of life I was about to occupy.After my arrival at home I paid a visit to old Roger Riddle, and had the satisfaction of telling him that Mark had become a steady fellow, and as Captain Mason had promised to take him the next voyage in the “Falcon,” and to continue his instructions in navigation, he had every prospect of becoming an officer. Tom Trivett entered the navy, and having lost a leg, became an out-pensioner of Greenwich Hospital. He used frequently to come and see me in after years, and nothing pleased him so much as to talk over the adventures of our early days, and to spin long yarns to my children about those he subsequently went through. After a week’s stay at Sandgate, I returned to Liverpool, where I at once set to work in Mr Butterfield’s office, and have every reason to be thankful that I was enabled to take my place on one of the high stools which I had formerly looked upon with such intense disgust. By diligence and perseverance, and strict attention to my duties, I gained my principal’s good opinion, and ultimately, on his death, I became the head of the firm.The End.
In the beacon—The storm continues—The tide turns—I again seek for food—I meet with another accident—Brighter weather—A sail in sight—My hopes and fears—My signal—My rescue—A voice from the deep—Three old friends meet again—On board the “Falcon”—The good captain—Sydney harbour, and why I did not go ashore there—The homeward voyage—Mark and I learn navigation—My reception at Liverpool—Sad, sad news—My journey to Sandgate—I enter Mr Butterfield’s office, and have had no cause to regret doing so.
In the beacon—The storm continues—The tide turns—I again seek for food—I meet with another accident—Brighter weather—A sail in sight—My hopes and fears—My signal—My rescue—A voice from the deep—Three old friends meet again—On board the “Falcon”—The good captain—Sydney harbour, and why I did not go ashore there—The homeward voyage—Mark and I learn navigation—My reception at Liverpool—Sad, sad news—My journey to Sandgate—I enter Mr Butterfield’s office, and have had no cause to regret doing so.
I awoke to find the storm still raging around me; but as I opened my eyes I was sensible that a faint light came in from the top of the cask. I was cramped with the uncomfortable position in which I had been sleeping. When I looked out over the edge of the cask, though the seas were tossing as wildly as before, I perceived that the rock below me was once more uncovered, owing, as I knew, to the tide having ebbed. At first I thought of descending; then I recollected that the waters might again rise to their former level, and I feared that I might not have strength to regain my sheltering-place. I therefore remained where I was. I shortly began to feel the pangs of hunger and thirst. I eagerly felt in my pocket for some biscuit, forgetting that I had consumed the last the night before. I found a few crumbs, and with difficulty got them down, having no water to moisten my dry mouth. Still, the wet state of my clothes prevented me from suffering so much from thirst as I should otherwise have done.
The storm, I knew, would not last for ever. Should it continue much longer, however, I might succumb before I could possibly be relieved; but having been hitherto so mercifully preserved, I did not despair. Feeling weary of standing, I again crouched down at the bottom of the cask. I had reason to bless the persons who had placed it there. As I thus sat, half asleep and half awake, it seemed to me that the wind blew with less violence than it had done before. I got up to ascertain if this was the case. On looking round I felt confident that it was so. It appeared to me, also, that the seas were tumbling about with less violence than they had done on the previous day. If so, they might not again cover the rock. I was well accustomed to notice the tides on our own shore, and I remembered that, after the highest of the spring tides, they were said by the fishermen to “take off”—that is, to rise to a less elevation every subsequent day. Thus, even should the storm continue, the rock might not again be covered. This idea brought considerable relief to me.
My hunger made me resolve to descend to search for clams. Perhaps I should find a fish thrown on the rock. The thought of obtaining some food made me get down at once. I opened the trap, and, grasping the rope, slid down with perfect ease. Already the rocks over which I had clambered from the boat were bare, for the tide had fallen rapidly. I knew that it would fall in proportion as it had risen. I went as close to the edge as I could venture without running the risk of being carried off. The rocks, which were washed by the fierce seas, were slippery in the extreme, and I feared that any clams clinging to them must have been washed away. Still, hunger urged me on. I made my way along the top of the coral reef. I observed several small pools ahead. There must be creatures of some sort within, which would enable me to satisfy the cravings of hunger. I had gone some little distance, when I slipped, and came down on the rock. In my weak state I felt unable again to rise for some minutes, though I was not seriously hurt.
The clouds, some time before this, began to break, and suddenly the sun shone forth, his warm rays cheering me up. As I cast my eyes round, something glittered brightly just for a moment in one of the pools. Rising with renewed strength, I scrambled, faster than I had moved before, towards it, and great was my delight to see a good-sized fish floundering in the pool. It attempted to escape me, but I pounced down upon it as a sea-bird would have done, and, giving it a blow on the head, quickly despatched it. I was too hungry to wait even to partially prepare it by hanging it up in the sun, and, taking out my knife, quickly cut some slices from the thickest part of the body. I did not stop to consider whether it was wholesome, but ate it raw as it was. I looked about in the hope of finding another, and was successful; it was of the same species as the first. I could exist now without the clams; and, therefore, thinking it prudent not to run any risk in trying to obtain them, I returned to the beacon.
By this time the wind had fallen to a moderate breeze, though the seas still continued rolling on with foaming crests, but far less wildly than before, and were evidently decreasing in height. The atmosphere having cleared, I was able to distinguish the distant shore, which had the appearance of a blue irregular line to the westward. Again and again I turned my eyes seaward, in hopes of seeing a passing ship, which might stand near enough to observe me. I was disappointed; not a sail came in sight, and another night approached. The waters covered some of the rocks, but only for a short time, when the tide again ran out. Still I was unwilling to sleep upon the cold rock, and, taking my second fish, having consumed the first to the bones, I climbed up again into the tub. Having coiled myself away round the bottom, I was soon fast asleep. My slumbers were peaceful and quiet. The gentle wind produced no sound round the cask; the roar of the surf on the rocks had ceased. I slept the whole night through, and not till the sun had risen out of the ocean did I wake. I at once stood up and looked round me. A light breeze from the northward sent the wavelets rippling against the rock. The sea was otherwise perfectly calm, and glowed in the rays of the bright orb of day.
I looked landwards, in the expectation of seeing some vessels come out of the harbour, which, I thought, could not be far off, but none appeared. Then I gazed anxiously to the northward, and round the horizon in all directions. Presently I saw a spot appear of snowy whiteness, glittering in the rays of the sun. It rapidly increased in size. “A sail! A sail!” I shouted, though there was no one to hear me. I soon perceived that she was a large ship. First her topgallant sails, then her topsails, rose out of the water. I was so intently watching her that I forgot for a time to take my meal. As may be supposed, I turned many a look towards the ship. She was standing towards me, running before the wind along the coast. At last her courses, and then her hull, appeared, and I fancied that I could almost see the people moving on her deck. I was congratulating myself that I should have a speedy deliverance, when the thought came to me that she might be the “Emu.”
If I were discovered I should be worse treated than before. I had not so often seen the ship on which I had spent so many dreary months, to be certain about her appearance at a distance. I trembled lest I should be right, though she had been steering in a different direction. As the stranger approached, I became more and more convinced that she was not the “Emu.” Still I felt a feeling of uncertainty on the subject. Should I make a signal, and try to attract the attention of those on board? The beacon would certainly be observed; perhaps they were looking out for it. Had I possessed a supply of water, I might have hesitated longer; but my perilous position determined me at all risks to make a signal. I watched till the ship came nearly abreast of the beacon, when, stripping off my shirt, I climbed as high as I could, until I reached the cask. I waved the shirt frantically. In my eagerness I shouted also, though I might have known that my puny voice could not be heard. For some time it appeared to me that I was waving in vain; and then, what was my dismay to see the ship’s head turned away from the shore. I was deserted.
Presently the sheets were let fly, the main-topsail was backed against the mast. She hove-to. I almost fell from my post with joy as I saw a boat lowered, which came rapidly pulling towards the rock. Putting on my shirt—it was now perfectly dry—I descended from my perch to the rock, and there stood eagerly watching the boat. Again a thought occurred to me, that she might, after all, be the “Emu,” and in another few minutes I might be in the clutches of old Growles and the boatswain, and my other persecutors. But as I strained my eyes to discern their countenances. I became aware that none of the “Emu’s” crew were there. As far as I could make out, they were all perfect strangers. The boat steered for the lee-side of the rock. I hurried down to meet them.
“Why, my lad, who are you, and how came you here?” exclaimed one of the strangers. “Has your ship gone to the bottom?”
“That’s more than I can say,” I answered; “I came in a boat. The boat floated away, and I have been left here.”
“What ship do you belong to?” asked the stranger.
“The ‘Emu,’” I answered, thinking it was as well to acknowledge this much.
“The ‘Emu!’” he exclaimed. “Why, who are you? Let me let me look at you. Don’t you know me, Dick?” and he grasped my hand. I looked at him hard.
“Why, if I didn’t think you were at the bottom of the sea, I should have declared that you were Tom Trivett.”
“And so I am,” he said, “though I’m not at the bottom of the sea, and right glad I am to find you, Dick, out of that dreadful ship. Come along, we mustn’t stand talking here; we were sent to bring you off, and, judging by your looks, the sooner you’re on board the better.”
“Yes, indeed,” I answered, “for I find it a hard matter to speak from the dryness in my throat; I haven’t tasted water for a couple of days, and if you had not come I don’t suppose I should have held out much longer, with the hot sun shining down on my head.”
“Well, I am glad,” cried Tom, as he, with the aid of another hand, who was the third mate of the ship, helped me into the boat. She immediately shoved off, and pulled towards the ship.
“Who would have thought of finding you, Dick, all alone by yourself out on yonder rock?” said Tom, who was pulling stroke oar. “However, wonders never end. There’s another old shipmate of yours on board, whom you’ll be glad to see, I have a notion; and not a little surprised either, if you thought that he was left to perish on the Falkland Islands.”
“What! Do you mean Mark Riddle?” I asked.
“Yes, Mark himself,” he said. “He didn’t die, or he wouldn’t be on board the ‘Falcon.’ We found him about ten days after. He had been pretty well worn out, but still with life enough in him to crawl down to the beach when we put in for water.”
“I am glad, I am glad!” I said, though I could say little more, and was unable to ask Tom how he had escaped.
The mate put questions to me which I was unable to answer; indeed I was almost fainting before I was lifted up the side of the “Falcon.” One of the first persons I set eyes on was Mark Riddle. He was much grown and bronzed. Had I not been aware that he was on board, I should not at first have known him; nor did he guess who I was till Tom told him, when he sprang to my side, and warmly grasped my hand. He forbore asking questions, as he saw that I was not in a state to reply. The first thing Tom did was to bring me a mug of water, which I eagerly drank. After that the captain ordered that I should be carried to a spare berth in the cabin.
“We must have him there, that he may be properly looked after. He’ll be better off than in the forepeak,” he said.
From this I guessed that he was a kind-hearted man, very different to Captain Longfleet. In a short time some broth and a fresh roll baked on board were brought to me, and I was not so far gone that I was prevented from thankfully swallowing the food. It revived me greatly, and when Captain Mason looked in on me shortly afterwards, I was able to answer all the questions he put to me. I confessed who I was, and how I had come to sea. When he heard that I was the son of a clergyman, and related to Mr Butterfield, he was even kinder than before; though he did not, I suspect, quite believe my account.
“Truth should be adhered to, my lad, under all circumstances,” he observed. “Are you quite sure that you did not run away?”
“I thought of doing so, sir; but I was carried off exactly as I have told you, and I was very sorry for it afterwards.”
“You have been severely punished for it, and I am afraid have caused great anxiety and grief to your friends. You might have lost your life, though you have been preserved in God’s good providence, and when you get home I hope you will make amends for your fault. It is all you can do,” he observed.
The state of the ship contrasted greatly with that of the “Emu.” After a sound sleep, I was able the next day to get about, though I still remained somewhat sick and weak. Tom told me that the “Falcon” was the happiest ship he had ever been aboard. The crew were generally orderly and well behaved. Mark corroborated what Tom said.
As soon as I was strong enough, I begged that I might be allowed to do duty on board, so that I might not pass my time idly. To this Captain Mason willingly agreed. I was separated more than I liked from Mark, but he told me that he was not jealous.
“But I say, Dick,” he said, “if you could teach me, when it’s my watch below, some of the navigation and other things you’re learning, I should be very much obliged.”
I willingly promised to do this; and, as he came down to the spar-deck, we at once set to work, and every day I imparted to him the knowledge I had obtained. One day the first mate, who was a very kind man, found us thus engaged. He said nothing at the time, but afterwards asked me if Riddle was very anxious to learn navigation. I told him that he was. He reported this to the captain, who told Mark that he could come into the cabin and study with the rest of us.
Our studies were interrupted when the ship entered Sydney harbour. We lay there for some days, discharging our cargo, and taking on board bales of wool, which was now being produced in considerable quantities in that magnificent country, though the shipments of a whole year were not equal to what was afterwards exported in a month.
As I knew that the “Emu” was bound for Sydney, I anxiously inquired whether she was there. She had not come in; but, as I thought she might possibly make her appearance, I was afraid to go on shore, lest I should encounter Captain Longfleet or the mates or the men. I felt sure, should they see me, that I should be captured, carried on board, and punished tremendously for stealing the boat. On returning on board, however, one day, Tom Trivett told me that he had heard a report that the “Emu” had been lost in a gale which had occurred some time before, as part of her stern had been picked up with her name upon it. This account having been confirmed, left no doubt on my mind as to her having been wrecked, and, as none of those on board ever appeared, that all had perished. I had thus still greater reason than ever to be thankful that I had made my escape from her when I did. But Captain Mason blamed me for the way in which I had done so.
“You’ve done many things that were wrong, my lad,” he said, “there’s no doubt about that; but all I can urge you is to be heartily sorry for them.”
I confess I found it very difficult to be sorry that I had run away with the boat, since I had saved my life by so doing. Then I might afterwards have lost it on the rock; and the matter has been a very puzzling one to me ever since.
We sailed with a fair wind, which carried us down the coast of Australia. The wind then shifted to the eastward, and we passed through Bass’s Straits, between the mighty continent and Van Diemen’s Land, as it was at that time called, the captain intending to go home by the Cape of Good Hope instead of across the Pacific and round Cape Horn, as ships of the present day generally do.
I have few incidents to describe during our homeward voyage. I was far happier than I had been on board the “Emu.” Somehow or other I had no longer that affection for a sea life which I fancied I possessed. I dreaded, however, the reception I should meet with, on my return home, from Aunt Deb and Mr Butterfield, and from my father and brothers and sisters. The only person who I knew would receive me affectionately was my mother. I was very certain of it. I was half inclined, from fear of the upbraiding that I should get from the rest of my family, to beg Captain Mason to let me remain on board, and to make another voyage with him, expecting that I should regain my love for the ocean. I at last mentioned the subject.
“I would willingly do so, my lad, if your father and friends think it best you should become a sailor, but I cannot consent to act contrary to their wishes. You must at once, on landing, present yourself to Mr Butterfield; and as I am acquainted with him, I will accompany you and state how I have had the satisfaction of rescuing you from the perilous position in which you were placed.”
I thanked the captain very much for his offer, as I felt that I should have much more confidence in his presence than if I had gone alone. Still, as we ran up the Irish Channel and sighted the Welsh coast, I felt very nervous, and could scarcely attend to my duties. At length we entered the Mersey and dropped anchor off Liverpool. As soon as the ship had been taken into dock, and the captain was at liberty, he sent for me, and we walked together to Mr Butterfield’s office, where we were at once shown into his private room. The old gentleman did not recognise me, I was so grown and altered. When Captain Mason said who I was, he started, and, eyeing me keenly, at last took my hand.
“I’m thankful to see you again, my boy,” he said; “but you have caused your aunt and me much anxiety, and trouble and sorrow to others of your family; but I won’t say just now what has happened. Your aunt will tell you that, by-and-by. I am unwilling to grieve your heart on first landing on your native shore.”
I did not then understand what he meant; but as his manner was kind, I congratulated myself on escaping the upbraiding I expected from him, at all events. Captain Mason having much business to get through, rose to take his leave, when Mr Butterfield expressed his desire to repay him for the trouble and expense he had been put to on my account.
“Pray don’t speak of it, my kind sir,” answered the worthy captain; “I am amply repaid by the satisfaction I feel at restoring the lad to his friends;” and shaking me warmly by the hand, he left the office.
As it was late in the day, Mr Butterfield having signed a few letters, said he was ready to go home, and desired me to accompany him. As we walked along together, he questioned me about my adventures, seeming rather incredulous when I assured him that I had not intentionally run away to sea.
“Well, well, Dick, we’ll let by-gones be by-gones. I shall be glad to see you act rightly in future.”
I inquired if Aunt Deb was still with him.
“She returned to your father soon after you disappeared, and has only lately come back to pay me another visit,” he answered.
I confess I wished she had stayed at home. However, I had to face her, though I felt very nervous about the interview.
“I don’t think she will recognise you, and I won’t tell her who you are,” he said, as I entered the house.
We went into the drawing-room, where we found Aunt Deb seated in a high-backed chair.
“Here’s a young gentleman come from the sea. He’s come to dine with us,” said Mr Butterfield.
Aunt Deb rose from her seat, gave me a stiff bow, and sank down again on her seat. “I have no affection for the sea, or generally for those whose profession it is to sail upon it,” she said, looking hard at me. “There are exceptions to every rule, and I hope that this young gentleman will show that he doesn’t possess the objectionable manners and customs of sailors.”
“I trust you will not be mistaken in the favourable opinion you form of me, Madam,” I said, as stiffly as I could. “But I venture to think that you are prejudiced against seafaring men. Let me assure you, however, that there are many estimable persons among them, though there are some as bad as any to be found on shore. You once had a nephew who went away to sea. I hope that you don’t class him among the bad ones.”
“I class him among the very worst,” she exclaimed. “He ran off without leave, without wishing me, his kind aunt, farewell, or letting us know where he had gone, or what had become of him. He made us all very miserable, and broke his poor mother’s heart.”
“My mother dead!” I exclaimed. “Oh, don’t say that, don’t say that! And I killed her.”
“Who are you?” cried Aunt Deb, starting up and looking me in the face.
“Yes; I do believe that you are that graceless young monkey, Dick!”
“I am indeed your nephew, Dick. I am indeed heartily sorry for all I have done, and shall never forgive myself if my conduct was the cause of my mother’s death. Did I not mistake what you said? Oh, Aunt Deb, do tell me is she really dead?” and I grasped her hands and burst into tears.
She was moved as I spoke more than I could have expected; and instead of further upbraiding me, tried to soothe the anguish I felt. I was indeed severely punished for my thoughtless conduct, to say the best of it.
Mr Butterfield spoke to me more kindly than I expected or deserved, and when he again offered me a seat in his counting-house, and assured me that he would endeavour to further my interests and raise me according to my deserts, I thankfully accepted his proposal.
Before, however, commencing my career as a merchant, he allowed me to go home and see my father, who, I need not say, received me according to the dictates of his affectionate heart, without uttering a word of blame. My brothers and sisters were never tired of hearing of my adventures while I remained with them. On my mother’s grave I promised to do my duty to the best of my power in the new situation of life I was about to occupy.
After my arrival at home I paid a visit to old Roger Riddle, and had the satisfaction of telling him that Mark had become a steady fellow, and as Captain Mason had promised to take him the next voyage in the “Falcon,” and to continue his instructions in navigation, he had every prospect of becoming an officer. Tom Trivett entered the navy, and having lost a leg, became an out-pensioner of Greenwich Hospital. He used frequently to come and see me in after years, and nothing pleased him so much as to talk over the adventures of our early days, and to spin long yarns to my children about those he subsequently went through. After a week’s stay at Sandgate, I returned to Liverpool, where I at once set to work in Mr Butterfield’s office, and have every reason to be thankful that I was enabled to take my place on one of the high stools which I had formerly looked upon with such intense disgust. By diligence and perseverance, and strict attention to my duties, I gained my principal’s good opinion, and ultimately, on his death, I became the head of the firm.