Chapter Twenty.

Chapter Twenty.The Last Disaster.After the first shock of surprise at the alarming intelligence—the most awful that can be circulated on board a ship, and one that fills up the seaman’s cup of horrors to the brim—Captain Billings quickly recovered his usual equanimity. He was his own clear-headed, calm, collected self again in a moment.“How did you discover it?” he asked the mate, in a low tone.“I was ganging forwarts,” said Mr Macdougall, in the same hushed key, so that only Captain Billings and I could catch his words, “when a’ at once I smeelt somethin’—”“Ah, that raking flying jibboom of yours wasn’t given you for nothing!” whispered the skipper, alluding to the mate’s rather “pronounced” nose.“Aye, mon, it sairves me weel,” said Mr Macdougall, feeling the ridge of his nasal organ with much apparent satisfaction, and then proceeding to finish his statement. “But I could no meestake the smeel, the noo.”“Something burning, I suppose?” said the skipper interrogatively.“You’re right, Cap’en; the smeel was that o’ boornin’ wood and gas.”“What did you do then?” asked Captain Billings.“I joost slippet off the main hatch, and the smeel was quite overpowerin’, enough to choke one! so I e’en slippet the hatch on again, walking forwarts so as not to alarm the crew; and then I cam’ aft to tell your ain sel’.”“You did right,” said the skipper. “I’ll go presently and have a look myself.”Captain Billings’ inspection proved that the mate’s fears were but too well-founded; so he immediately had the pumps rigged by the watch on duty—“all hands” not being called yet, as the vessel was lying-to, and there was not much work to be done. But a lot of water was pumped into the hold, after which the hatches were battened down, and we hoped the fire would die out from being smothered in this way.Meanwhile the north-westerly gale increased to almost a hurricane, the ship taking in great seas over her bows that deluged the decks, so that the waist sometimes was all awash with four feet of water on it; but this did not trouble us much, for of the two elements the sea was now the least feared, as we hoped that the one would check the spread of the other.Next day, however, when the gale lightened a little, and theEsmeraldarode easier, still head to sea, the men complained that the fo’c’sle was getting too hot for them to live in it, although the temperature of the exterior air was nearly down to freezing point.This looked ominous; so Captain Billings, determining to adopt more stringent measures to check the conflagration that must be raging below in the cargo, caused the hatches to be opened; but such dense thick volumes of smoke and poisonous gas rolled forth the moment the covers were taken off, that they were quickly battened down again, holes now being bored to insert the hose pipes, and another deluge of water pumped into the hold, forwards as well as amidships.“I don’t know what to do,” said the skipper to Mr Macdougall. “If it were not for this gale I would try to run for Sandy Point, where we might get assistance, as I’ve heard of the captain of a collier once, whose ship caught fire in the cargo like mine, careening his ship ashore there, when, taking out the burning coals, he saved the rest of his freight and stowed it again, so that he was able to resume his voyage and deliver most of the cargo at its destination. But this wind is right in one’s teeth, either to get to Sandy Point or fetch any other port within easy reach.”“We moost ae just trust to Proveedence!” replied the mate.“Oh, yes, that’s all very well,” said the skipper, impatiently. “But, still, Providence expects us to do something to help ourselves—what do you suggest?”“I canna thaenk o’ naught, Cap’en,” replied Mr Macdougall, in his lugubrious way.“Hang it, neither can I!” returned the skipper, as if angry with himself because of no timely expedient coming to his mind; but just at that moment the gale suggested something to him—at all events in the way of finding occupation!All at once, the wind, which had been blowing furiously from the northwards, shifted round without a moment’s warning to the south-west, catching the ship on her quarter, and heeling her over so to leeward that her yard-arms dipped in the heavy rolling sea.For a second, it seemed as if we were going over; for theEsmeraldaremained on her beam ends without righting again, the waves breaking clean over her from windward, and sweeping everything movable from her decks fore and aft; but then, as the force of the blast passed away, she slowly laboured up once more, the masts swaying to and fro as if they were going by the board, for they groaned and creaked like living things in agony.“Put the helm up—hard up!” shouted the skipper to the man at the wheel; but, as the poor fellow tried to carry out the command, the tiller “took charge,” as sailors say, hurling him right over the wheel against the bulwarks, which broke his leg and almost pitched him over the side. Had this occurred it would have been utterly impossible to have saved him.Mr Macdougall and I immediately rushed aft; and, the two of us grasping the spokes, managed to turn the wheel round with our united strength; but it was too late to get the ship to pay off, for, a fresh blast of wind striking her full butt, she was taken aback, the foremast coming down with a crash across the deck, carrying with it the bowsprit and maintopmast, the mizzen-topmast following suit a minute afterwards.This was bad enough in all conscience, without our having the consciousness that besides this loss of all our spars, making the vessel a hopeless log rolling at the mercy of the winds and waves, our cargo of coals was on fire in the hold, forming a raging volcano beneath our feet!Fortune was cruel. Mishap had followed on mishap. The powers of evil were piling Ossa on Pelion!The skipper, however, was not daunted yet.All hands had rushed aft, without being specially called, roused by the crash of the falling spars, so he immediately set them to work with the hatchets fastened round the mainmast bitts, cutting away at the wreckage; and then, as the clouds cleared away and a bit of blue sky showed itself aloft, Captain Billings expressed himself hopeful of getting out of the meshes of that network of danger in every direction with which we seemed surrounded.“Look alive, men, and don’t despair,” said he to the crew, encouraging them; for they were almost panic-stricken at first, and it was all that Jorrocks and I could do to get them to ply their tomahawks forwards and cut away the rigging, which still held the foremast with all its top-hamper attached to the ship, thumping at her sides as the lumber floated alongside, trying to crunch our timbers in. “Look alive, men, and put your heart into it; all hope hasn’t left us yet! The gale has nearly blown itself out, as you can see for yourselves by that little bit of blue sky there overhead, bigger than a Dutchman’s pair of breeches; so, as soon as the sea goes down a little, we’ll hoist out the boats, so as to have them handy in case we have to abandon the ship, should the fire in the hold get too strong for us, although I don’t fear that yet, my hearties, for the water may drown it out soon, you know. But work away cheerily, my lads, and clear away all that dunnage, so that we can set a little sail presently on the mainmast and mizzen, which we still have standing, when we can make a run for some islands lying close by under the lee of Cape Horn, where I’ll heave her ashore if I can; but, if the vessel don’t reach the land, you needn’t be afraid of not being able to do so in the boats, which we can take to as a last resource, so there’s no fear of your lives being lost, at any rate!”“Hurray!” shouted out Jorrocks, leading a cheer; and Pat Doolan seconding him heartily, the hands started at the rigging with greatly renewed vigour, slashing at the shrouds and stays until they parted, and the foremast was at last cut away clear, floating astern on the top of the rolling waves.“There it goes!” cried the skipper, “and joy go with it for deserting us in that unhandsome way!”“Ah, sir,” observed Haxell, the carpenter, who was standing close beside him now, quiet a bit after exerting himself like a navvy in helping to clear the wreck, “you forgets as how the poor dear thing never recovered that spring it had off Madeiry!”“No; for it has lasted well, nevertheless, and I oughtn’t to complain of it now,” said Captain Billings, with a responsive sigh to the carpenter’s lament over the lost foremast. Haxell looked upon all the ship’s spars as if they were his own peculiar private property, and spoke of them always—that is, when he could be induced to abandon his chronic taciturnity—as if they had kindred feelings and sensibilities to his own!The dark threatening clouds which had enveloped the heavens for the past twenty-four hours now cleared away, although the wind still blew pretty fresh from the south-west, and the sun coming out, Captain Billings told me to go and fetch my sextant in order to take an observation so as to ascertain our true position; for, first with the north-easter, and then with the squall from the south, we had been so driven here, there, and everywhere, that it was difficult to form any reasonable surmise as to where we really were—especially as there was a strong current supposed to run round Cape Horn from the Pacific towards the Atlantic Ocean at certain tides.I fetched my sextant and took the sun; and I may say confidently to all whom it may concern that this was the last observation ever made by any one on board the ill-fatedEsmeralda!The skipper checked me in the time, from the chronometer in the cabin; and when I had worked out the reckoning, we compared notes on the poop.“What do you make it?” said he.“56 degrees 20 minutes South,” I said.“And the ship’s time makes us about 66 degrees West. Ha! humph! we must be about forty miles to the south of Cape Horn; and, by Jove,” he added, looking to the north-west, where the blue sky was without a fleck save a little white cloud, like the triangular sail of a boat, seen dimly low down on the horizon, “there’s my gentleman over there, now!”The knowledge of the vessel’s position appeared to give the skipper greater confidence; and, the waves ceasing to break over us, although the huge southern rollers swept by in heavy curves, he gave directions for getting some tackle rigged to launch the long-boat, which, although it was right in the way, had escaped injury when the foremast fell. At the same time, the mainsail and mizzen staysail were set, and the vessel steered in the direction of that Cape which she seemed destined never to round.“We’ll run for the Wollaston group,” said the skipper—“that is, if the fire will let us stop aboard till we reach there; and if not, why, the less distance there will be for us to trust ourselves to the boats in this strong sea.”No time was lost in making preparations to quit the ship, however—provisions and stores being brought up from the steerage by the steward and a couple of seamen who were told off to help him.In the last few hours the fire had made considerable headway; for thin wreaths of smoke were curling up from the deck forwards, where the pitch had been melted from the seams, and the heat was plainly perceptible on the poop, accompanied as it was by a hot sulphurous smell.“Be jabers, I fale like a cat on a hot griddle,” said Pat Doolan, as he danced in and out of the galley, engaged in certain cooking operations on a large scale which the skipper had ordered; “I’ll soon have no sowl at all, at all, to me cawbeens!”The men laughed at this, but there was a good deal of truth in the joking words of the Irishman, as, although washed with water, the deck was quite unbearable to one’s naked foot.It was now early in the afternoon, and the long-boat and jolly-boat were both launched and loaded with what stores were available, the skipper personally seeing that each was provided with a mast and sails and its proper complement of oars and ballast—barrels and barricoes containing water being utilised to this latter end, thus serving for a double purpose.Other things and persons were also attended to.Mr Ohlsen, the second mate, and Harmer, the seaman who had had his leg broken when thrown against the bulwarks—and who, by the way, had the injured limb excellently set by Mr Macdougall, who had passed through a hospital course in “Edinbro’ Toon,” he told us—were brought up from the cabin in their cots, being both invalids. The skipper likewise secured the ship’s papers and removed the compass from the binnacle; while I, of course, did not forget my sextant and a chart or two which Captain Billings told me to take. The foremast hands having also selected a small stock of useful articles, all of us were ready to leave the vessel as soon as she gave us notice to quit.The fire was waxing hotter and hotter, the curling wreaths of smoke having expanded into dense black columns of vapour, and an occasional tongue of flame was licking the edges of the coamings of the fore hatchway, while sparks every now and then went flying up in the air and were wafted away to leeward by the wind.“She can’t last much longer now without the flames bursting forth,” said Captain Billings. “The sooner we see about leaving her the better now. Haul up the boats alongside, and prepare to lower down our sick men.”“Hadn’t we better have a whip rigged from the yard-arm, sir?” suggested Jorrocks. “It’ll get ’em down more comfortable and easy like.”“Aye, do; I declare I had forgotten that,” said the skipper; “I’m losing my head, I think, at the thought of the loss of my ship!” He spoke these words so sadly that they touched me keenly.“No, no, Cap’, you haven’t loosed your head yet, so far as thinking about us is concerned,” observed Jorrocks, who was watching the man he had sent out on the mainyard fasten a block and tackle for lowering down the cots of the two invalids. I’m sure we all acquiesced in this hearty expression of the boatswain’s opinion, for no one could have more carefully considered every precaution for our comfort and security than the skipper, when making up his mind to abandon the ship.No further words were wasted, however, as soon as the boats were hauled alongside.Mr Ohlsen and Harmer were lowered down carefully into the long-boat, and the provisions, with the captain’s papers and instruments, were subsequently stowed in the stern-sheets by the side of the invalids. A similar procedure was then adopted in reference to the jolly-boat, only that there were no more sick men, fortunately, to go in her; and the skipper was just about mustering the hands on the after part of the main deck, below the break of the poop, when there was a terrible explosion forwards, the whole fore-part of the ship seeming to be rent in twain and hurled heavenward in a sheet of flame as vivid as forked lightning!I don’t know by what sudden spasm of memory, but at that very instant my thoughts flew back to my boyish days at Beachampton, and my attempt to blow up Dr Hellyer and the whole school with gunpowder on that memorable November day, as I have narrated. The present calamity seemed somehow or other, to my morbid mind, a judgment on my former wicked conduct—the reflection passing through my brain at the instant of the explosion with almost a similar flash.

After the first shock of surprise at the alarming intelligence—the most awful that can be circulated on board a ship, and one that fills up the seaman’s cup of horrors to the brim—Captain Billings quickly recovered his usual equanimity. He was his own clear-headed, calm, collected self again in a moment.

“How did you discover it?” he asked the mate, in a low tone.

“I was ganging forwarts,” said Mr Macdougall, in the same hushed key, so that only Captain Billings and I could catch his words, “when a’ at once I smeelt somethin’—”

“Ah, that raking flying jibboom of yours wasn’t given you for nothing!” whispered the skipper, alluding to the mate’s rather “pronounced” nose.

“Aye, mon, it sairves me weel,” said Mr Macdougall, feeling the ridge of his nasal organ with much apparent satisfaction, and then proceeding to finish his statement. “But I could no meestake the smeel, the noo.”

“Something burning, I suppose?” said the skipper interrogatively.

“You’re right, Cap’en; the smeel was that o’ boornin’ wood and gas.”

“What did you do then?” asked Captain Billings.

“I joost slippet off the main hatch, and the smeel was quite overpowerin’, enough to choke one! so I e’en slippet the hatch on again, walking forwarts so as not to alarm the crew; and then I cam’ aft to tell your ain sel’.”

“You did right,” said the skipper. “I’ll go presently and have a look myself.”

Captain Billings’ inspection proved that the mate’s fears were but too well-founded; so he immediately had the pumps rigged by the watch on duty—“all hands” not being called yet, as the vessel was lying-to, and there was not much work to be done. But a lot of water was pumped into the hold, after which the hatches were battened down, and we hoped the fire would die out from being smothered in this way.

Meanwhile the north-westerly gale increased to almost a hurricane, the ship taking in great seas over her bows that deluged the decks, so that the waist sometimes was all awash with four feet of water on it; but this did not trouble us much, for of the two elements the sea was now the least feared, as we hoped that the one would check the spread of the other.

Next day, however, when the gale lightened a little, and theEsmeraldarode easier, still head to sea, the men complained that the fo’c’sle was getting too hot for them to live in it, although the temperature of the exterior air was nearly down to freezing point.

This looked ominous; so Captain Billings, determining to adopt more stringent measures to check the conflagration that must be raging below in the cargo, caused the hatches to be opened; but such dense thick volumes of smoke and poisonous gas rolled forth the moment the covers were taken off, that they were quickly battened down again, holes now being bored to insert the hose pipes, and another deluge of water pumped into the hold, forwards as well as amidships.

“I don’t know what to do,” said the skipper to Mr Macdougall. “If it were not for this gale I would try to run for Sandy Point, where we might get assistance, as I’ve heard of the captain of a collier once, whose ship caught fire in the cargo like mine, careening his ship ashore there, when, taking out the burning coals, he saved the rest of his freight and stowed it again, so that he was able to resume his voyage and deliver most of the cargo at its destination. But this wind is right in one’s teeth, either to get to Sandy Point or fetch any other port within easy reach.”

“We moost ae just trust to Proveedence!” replied the mate.

“Oh, yes, that’s all very well,” said the skipper, impatiently. “But, still, Providence expects us to do something to help ourselves—what do you suggest?”

“I canna thaenk o’ naught, Cap’en,” replied Mr Macdougall, in his lugubrious way.

“Hang it, neither can I!” returned the skipper, as if angry with himself because of no timely expedient coming to his mind; but just at that moment the gale suggested something to him—at all events in the way of finding occupation!

All at once, the wind, which had been blowing furiously from the northwards, shifted round without a moment’s warning to the south-west, catching the ship on her quarter, and heeling her over so to leeward that her yard-arms dipped in the heavy rolling sea.

For a second, it seemed as if we were going over; for theEsmeraldaremained on her beam ends without righting again, the waves breaking clean over her from windward, and sweeping everything movable from her decks fore and aft; but then, as the force of the blast passed away, she slowly laboured up once more, the masts swaying to and fro as if they were going by the board, for they groaned and creaked like living things in agony.

“Put the helm up—hard up!” shouted the skipper to the man at the wheel; but, as the poor fellow tried to carry out the command, the tiller “took charge,” as sailors say, hurling him right over the wheel against the bulwarks, which broke his leg and almost pitched him over the side. Had this occurred it would have been utterly impossible to have saved him.

Mr Macdougall and I immediately rushed aft; and, the two of us grasping the spokes, managed to turn the wheel round with our united strength; but it was too late to get the ship to pay off, for, a fresh blast of wind striking her full butt, she was taken aback, the foremast coming down with a crash across the deck, carrying with it the bowsprit and maintopmast, the mizzen-topmast following suit a minute afterwards.

This was bad enough in all conscience, without our having the consciousness that besides this loss of all our spars, making the vessel a hopeless log rolling at the mercy of the winds and waves, our cargo of coals was on fire in the hold, forming a raging volcano beneath our feet!

Fortune was cruel. Mishap had followed on mishap. The powers of evil were piling Ossa on Pelion!

The skipper, however, was not daunted yet.

All hands had rushed aft, without being specially called, roused by the crash of the falling spars, so he immediately set them to work with the hatchets fastened round the mainmast bitts, cutting away at the wreckage; and then, as the clouds cleared away and a bit of blue sky showed itself aloft, Captain Billings expressed himself hopeful of getting out of the meshes of that network of danger in every direction with which we seemed surrounded.

“Look alive, men, and don’t despair,” said he to the crew, encouraging them; for they were almost panic-stricken at first, and it was all that Jorrocks and I could do to get them to ply their tomahawks forwards and cut away the rigging, which still held the foremast with all its top-hamper attached to the ship, thumping at her sides as the lumber floated alongside, trying to crunch our timbers in. “Look alive, men, and put your heart into it; all hope hasn’t left us yet! The gale has nearly blown itself out, as you can see for yourselves by that little bit of blue sky there overhead, bigger than a Dutchman’s pair of breeches; so, as soon as the sea goes down a little, we’ll hoist out the boats, so as to have them handy in case we have to abandon the ship, should the fire in the hold get too strong for us, although I don’t fear that yet, my hearties, for the water may drown it out soon, you know. But work away cheerily, my lads, and clear away all that dunnage, so that we can set a little sail presently on the mainmast and mizzen, which we still have standing, when we can make a run for some islands lying close by under the lee of Cape Horn, where I’ll heave her ashore if I can; but, if the vessel don’t reach the land, you needn’t be afraid of not being able to do so in the boats, which we can take to as a last resource, so there’s no fear of your lives being lost, at any rate!”

“Hurray!” shouted out Jorrocks, leading a cheer; and Pat Doolan seconding him heartily, the hands started at the rigging with greatly renewed vigour, slashing at the shrouds and stays until they parted, and the foremast was at last cut away clear, floating astern on the top of the rolling waves.

“There it goes!” cried the skipper, “and joy go with it for deserting us in that unhandsome way!”

“Ah, sir,” observed Haxell, the carpenter, who was standing close beside him now, quiet a bit after exerting himself like a navvy in helping to clear the wreck, “you forgets as how the poor dear thing never recovered that spring it had off Madeiry!”

“No; for it has lasted well, nevertheless, and I oughtn’t to complain of it now,” said Captain Billings, with a responsive sigh to the carpenter’s lament over the lost foremast. Haxell looked upon all the ship’s spars as if they were his own peculiar private property, and spoke of them always—that is, when he could be induced to abandon his chronic taciturnity—as if they had kindred feelings and sensibilities to his own!

The dark threatening clouds which had enveloped the heavens for the past twenty-four hours now cleared away, although the wind still blew pretty fresh from the south-west, and the sun coming out, Captain Billings told me to go and fetch my sextant in order to take an observation so as to ascertain our true position; for, first with the north-easter, and then with the squall from the south, we had been so driven here, there, and everywhere, that it was difficult to form any reasonable surmise as to where we really were—especially as there was a strong current supposed to run round Cape Horn from the Pacific towards the Atlantic Ocean at certain tides.

I fetched my sextant and took the sun; and I may say confidently to all whom it may concern that this was the last observation ever made by any one on board the ill-fatedEsmeralda!

The skipper checked me in the time, from the chronometer in the cabin; and when I had worked out the reckoning, we compared notes on the poop.

“What do you make it?” said he.

“56 degrees 20 minutes South,” I said.

“And the ship’s time makes us about 66 degrees West. Ha! humph! we must be about forty miles to the south of Cape Horn; and, by Jove,” he added, looking to the north-west, where the blue sky was without a fleck save a little white cloud, like the triangular sail of a boat, seen dimly low down on the horizon, “there’s my gentleman over there, now!”

The knowledge of the vessel’s position appeared to give the skipper greater confidence; and, the waves ceasing to break over us, although the huge southern rollers swept by in heavy curves, he gave directions for getting some tackle rigged to launch the long-boat, which, although it was right in the way, had escaped injury when the foremast fell. At the same time, the mainsail and mizzen staysail were set, and the vessel steered in the direction of that Cape which she seemed destined never to round.

“We’ll run for the Wollaston group,” said the skipper—“that is, if the fire will let us stop aboard till we reach there; and if not, why, the less distance there will be for us to trust ourselves to the boats in this strong sea.”

No time was lost in making preparations to quit the ship, however—provisions and stores being brought up from the steerage by the steward and a couple of seamen who were told off to help him.

In the last few hours the fire had made considerable headway; for thin wreaths of smoke were curling up from the deck forwards, where the pitch had been melted from the seams, and the heat was plainly perceptible on the poop, accompanied as it was by a hot sulphurous smell.

“Be jabers, I fale like a cat on a hot griddle,” said Pat Doolan, as he danced in and out of the galley, engaged in certain cooking operations on a large scale which the skipper had ordered; “I’ll soon have no sowl at all, at all, to me cawbeens!”

The men laughed at this, but there was a good deal of truth in the joking words of the Irishman, as, although washed with water, the deck was quite unbearable to one’s naked foot.

It was now early in the afternoon, and the long-boat and jolly-boat were both launched and loaded with what stores were available, the skipper personally seeing that each was provided with a mast and sails and its proper complement of oars and ballast—barrels and barricoes containing water being utilised to this latter end, thus serving for a double purpose.

Other things and persons were also attended to.

Mr Ohlsen, the second mate, and Harmer, the seaman who had had his leg broken when thrown against the bulwarks—and who, by the way, had the injured limb excellently set by Mr Macdougall, who had passed through a hospital course in “Edinbro’ Toon,” he told us—were brought up from the cabin in their cots, being both invalids. The skipper likewise secured the ship’s papers and removed the compass from the binnacle; while I, of course, did not forget my sextant and a chart or two which Captain Billings told me to take. The foremast hands having also selected a small stock of useful articles, all of us were ready to leave the vessel as soon as she gave us notice to quit.

The fire was waxing hotter and hotter, the curling wreaths of smoke having expanded into dense black columns of vapour, and an occasional tongue of flame was licking the edges of the coamings of the fore hatchway, while sparks every now and then went flying up in the air and were wafted away to leeward by the wind.

“She can’t last much longer now without the flames bursting forth,” said Captain Billings. “The sooner we see about leaving her the better now. Haul up the boats alongside, and prepare to lower down our sick men.”

“Hadn’t we better have a whip rigged from the yard-arm, sir?” suggested Jorrocks. “It’ll get ’em down more comfortable and easy like.”

“Aye, do; I declare I had forgotten that,” said the skipper; “I’m losing my head, I think, at the thought of the loss of my ship!” He spoke these words so sadly that they touched me keenly.

“No, no, Cap’, you haven’t loosed your head yet, so far as thinking about us is concerned,” observed Jorrocks, who was watching the man he had sent out on the mainyard fasten a block and tackle for lowering down the cots of the two invalids. I’m sure we all acquiesced in this hearty expression of the boatswain’s opinion, for no one could have more carefully considered every precaution for our comfort and security than the skipper, when making up his mind to abandon the ship.

No further words were wasted, however, as soon as the boats were hauled alongside.

Mr Ohlsen and Harmer were lowered down carefully into the long-boat, and the provisions, with the captain’s papers and instruments, were subsequently stowed in the stern-sheets by the side of the invalids. A similar procedure was then adopted in reference to the jolly-boat, only that there were no more sick men, fortunately, to go in her; and the skipper was just about mustering the hands on the after part of the main deck, below the break of the poop, when there was a terrible explosion forwards, the whole fore-part of the ship seeming to be rent in twain and hurled heavenward in a sheet of flame as vivid as forked lightning!

I don’t know by what sudden spasm of memory, but at that very instant my thoughts flew back to my boyish days at Beachampton, and my attempt to blow up Dr Hellyer and the whole school with gunpowder on that memorable November day, as I have narrated. The present calamity seemed somehow or other, to my morbid mind, a judgment on my former wicked conduct—the reflection passing through my brain at the instant of the explosion with almost a similar flash.

Chapter Twenty One.Herschel Island.“Maircy on us!” exclaimed Mr Macdougall, who at that moment was just gingerly passing down the standard compass to Jorrocks, the boatswain, standing up in the stern-sheets of the long-boat alongside, and stretching up his hands as carefully to receive the precious instrument; and the sudden blinding flash of the explosion and concussion of the air that it caused, almost made him drop this in his fright. “Whateever on airth ees that noo?”“Matter?” repeated the skipper after him coolly, taking in cause and effect at a glance. “Why, the gas generated by the heated coal in the hold has blown out the forepeak, that’s all! It is providential, though, that the wrench which the foremast gave to the deck-beams and bulkhead there when it carried away, so far weakened the ship forwards as to enable the gas to find vent in that direction, otherwise the entire deck would probably have been blown up—when it would have been a poor look-out for all of us here aft!”“Gudeness greecious!” ejaculated the mate again, blinking bewilderedly, like an owl unexpectedly exposed to daylight; but Captain Billings did not waste time in any further explanations or unnecessary words.“I hope nobody’s hurt! Run forwards, Leigh, and see,” he said to me.Fortunately, however, all had escaped without a scratch, although fragments of the knees and other heavy portions of the vessel’s timbers had been hurled aloft and scattered in all directions, as if a mine had been sprung below—the woodwork descending afterwards in a regular hailstorm on our heads, blown into small pieces no bigger than matches, and mixed up with a shower of blazing sparks and coal-dust, making us all “as black as nayghurs,” as Pat Doolan said.The stump of the foremast, in particular, described a graceful parabolic curve in the air, coming down into the water in close proximity to the bows of the long-boat—where, under the supervision of the boatswain, the steward and the carpenter were stowing provisions under the thwarts, making the two almost jump out of their skins. It descended into the sea with the same sort of “whish” which the stick of a signal rocket makes when, the propelling power that had enabled it previously to soar up so majestically into the air above being ultimately exhausted, it is forced to return by its own gravity to its proper level below, unable to sustain itself unaided by exterior help at the unaccustomed height to which it was temporarily exalted.And in this respect, it may be observed here, although I do not believe the remark is altogether original, that a good many human rockets may be encountered in our daily life, which exhibit all the characteristic points and weaknesses of the ordinary material model that I have likened them to—composed of gunpowder and other explosive pyrotechnic substances, and familiar to all—for, they go up in the same brilliant and glorious fashion, and are veritable shining lights in the estimation of their friends and the fickle testimony of public opinion; only, alas, to descend to the ordinary level of every-day mortals, like the rocket-stick comes down in the end!I need hardly say, though, that I had no thought of these reflections now; for, immediately after the explosion forwards, the flames which mounted aloft with it burst forth with full vigour, released from the confined space of the hold to which they had been previously limited, and the entire fore-part of the ship, from the waist to the knight-heads, became a mass of fire, the cavity disclosed by the riven deck adjacent to the fo’c’s’le being like a raging volcano, vomiting up clouds of thick yellow smoke from the glowing mass of ignited coal below, which almost suffocated us, as the ship went too slowly through the water for the vapour to trail off to leeward.The mainmast was still standing, with the mainsail set before the southerly wind, that was blowing in towards the land, the force of the explosion not being vented much further aft than the windlass bitts; but, almost as we looked, tongues of flame began to creep up the main rigging, and the huge sail was presently crackling away like tissue paper to which a lighted match has been applied, large pieces of the burning material being whirled in the air.The heat now became unbearable, and Captain Billings, much to his grief, saw that the time had come for him to abandon the ship.“We must leave her, Leigh,” said he to me, with as much emotion as another person might have displayed when wishing a last farewell to some dearly-loved friend or relative. “There is no good in stopping by the old barquey any longer, for we can’t help her out of her trouble, and the boats may be stove in by the falling mainmast if they remain alongside much longer. Poor old ship! we’ve sailed many a mile together, she and I; and now, to think that, crippled by that gale and almost having completed her v’yage, she should be burnt like a log of firewood off Cape Horn!”“Never mind, sir,” said I, sympathisingly. “It has not happened through any fault of yours.”“No, my lad, I don’t believe it has, for a cargo o’ coal is a ticklish thing to take half round the world; as more vessels are lost in carrying it than folks suppose! However, this is the last we’ll ever see of the oldEsmeralda, so far as standing on her deck goes; still, I tell you what, Leigh, you may possibly live to be a much older man than I am, but you’ll never come across a ship easier to handle in a gale, or one that would go better on a bowline!”“No, sir, I don’t think I shall,” I replied to this panegyric on the doomed vessel, quite appreciating all the skipper’s feelings of regret at her destruction; but just then the flames with a roar rushed up the main hatch, approaching towards the poop every moment nearer and nearer.This at once recalled Captain Billings from the past to the present.“Have you got everything aboard the boats?” he sang out in his customary voice to Mr Macdougall, his tones as firm and clear as if he had not been a moment before almost on the point of crying. “Are all the provisions and water in?”“Aye, aye, an’ stoowed awa’, too, Cap’en,” answered the mate, to whom had been entrusted the execution of all the necessary details. “A very thin’s aboord, and naething forgot, I reecken.”“Then it’s time we were aboard, too,” said the skipper. “Boatswain, muster the hands!”Jorrocks didn’t have to tap on the deck with a marlinspike now to call them, in the way he used to summon the watch below to reef topsails in the stormy weather we had off Madeira and elsewhere; for the men were all standing round, ready to start over the side as soon as the skipper gave the word of command to go.Captain Billings then called over the list of the crew from the muster roll, which he held in his hand along with the rest of the “ship’s papers”—such as theEsmeralda’scertificate of registry, the manifest of the cargo, and her clearance from the custom-house officers at Cardiff; when, all having answered to their names, with the exception of the two invalids, Mr Ohlsen, and Harmer, the seaman, both of whom were already in the long-boat, the skipper gave the word to pass down the gangway, apportioning seven hands in all to the jolly-boat, under charge of Mr Macdougall, and the remainder of our complement to the long-boat, under his own care.Including the invalids, we were seven-and-twenty souls in all—now compelled to abandon our good ship, and trust to those two frail boats to take us to the distant coast of Tierra del Fuego, of which we were not yet even in sight; and it was with sad hearts that we went down the side of this poorEsmeraldafor the last time, quitting what had been our floating home for the two months that had elapsed since we left England, for the perils we had encountered in her had only endeared her the more to us!Captain Billings was the last to abandon the ship; lingering not merely until we had descended to the boats, seven in one and nineteen as yet only in the other without him, but waiting while we settled ourselves along the thwarts; when, turning round, he put his feet on the cleats of the side ladder and came down slowly, looking up still at the old vessel, as if loth to leave her in such an extremity.The jolly-boat had been already veered astern on receiving her allotted number, the long-boat only waiting alongside for the skipper, with a man in the bows and another amidships, fending her off from the ship’s side with a couple of boat-hooks, so that the little barque should not dash against the hull of the bigger one, now she was so loaded up—a collision would have insured destruction to all in her, the huge billows of the Southern Ocean rolling in at intervals, and raising her so high aloft as to overtop the ship sometimes, and again carrying her down right under theEsmeralda’scounter, thus making her run the risk of being stove in every instant.It was too perilous a proximity; so, as soon as Captain Billings had got down into the stern-sheets, he gave the order to shove off.“Easy her away gently, men,” he said, as he took up the tiller lines, watching with a critical eye the movements of the men amidships and in the bow, as they poled the boat along the side of the ship until it passed clear of her by the stern. “Be ready there with your oars, sharp!”In another moment the boat was tossing about in the open sea, the height and force of the waves becoming all the more apparent now that we had lost the protection of theEsmeralda’slee. The flames just then, as if angry at our having escaped them, darted up the mizzen rigging, and presently enveloped the poop in their blaze, so that the whole ship was now one mass of fire fore and aft, blazing like a tar-barrel.The skipper would have liked to have lain by and seen the last of the vessel, but there was too much sea on, and the wind seemed getting up again; so, knowing how treacherous the weather was in the vicinity of the Cape of Storms, he determined, for the safety of those under his charge, to make for the land as speedily as possible—an open boat not being the best craft in the world to be in, out on the ocean, when a gale is about!As Captain Billings could see, the wind was blowing on shore, in the very direction for us to go; and, as the rollers were racing towards the same goal, the only way for us to avoid being swamped by them was to travel at a greater rate forwards than they did, or else we would broach-to in the troughs of the waves, when a boat is apt to get for the moment becalmed, from the intervening wall of water on either side stopping the current of air, and taking the breeze out of her sails.The long-boat was fitted with a couple of masts, carrying a large mainsail and a mizzen, both of which the skipper now ordered to be set, the former close-reefed to half its size. A bit of a staysail was also hoisted forwards in place of the jib, which was too large for the wind that was on; and then, it was wonderful to see the way the long-boat began to go through the water when the sail was put on her! She fairly raced along, dragging astern the jolly-boat, which we had taken in tow, the little craft leaving a curly wave in front of her cutwater, higher than her bows, and looking as if it were on the point of pouring over on top of those in her.It was now late in the afternoon of this, our sixty-third day out of port; and, as the sun sank to rest in the west, away in the east, according to our position in the boat, there was another illumination on the horizon.It was that caused by the burning ship. But it did not last so long: the fire of coals and wood could not vie with that of the celestial orb.We could still see the blazing hull, as we rose every now and then on the crest of the rollers; while, when we could not perceive it from the subsidence of the waves under the boat’s keel, making us sink down, a pillar of smoke, floating in the air high above theEsmeraldain a long fan-like trail, and stretching out to where sky and sea met in the extreme distance, told us where she was without any fear of mistake.Soon after we had quitted the vessel the mainmast, when half consumed, tumbled over the side; and, presently, the burning mizzen, which had been standing up for some time like a tall fiery pole, disappeared in a shower of sparks.The end was not far off now.As we rose on the send of the next sea, Captain Billings, by whose side I was sitting in the stern-sheets of the long-boat, grasped my arm.“Look!” he said, half turning round and pointing to where the burning ship had last been seen.She was gone!The smoke still hung in the air in the distance, like a funeral pall; but the wind was now rapidly dispersing it to leeward, there being no further supply of the columns of cloud-like vapour that had originally composed it.Soon, too, the smoke had completely disappeared, and the horizon was a blank.“All’s over!” cried the skipper, with a heavy sigh.All was over, indeed; for, whatever fragments of the ill-fatedEsmeraldathe remorseless fire may have spared, were now, without doubt, making their way down to the bottom of that wild ocean on which we poor shipwrecked mariners were tossing in a couple of frail boats—uncertain whether we should ever reach land in safety, or be doomed to follow our vessel’s bones down into the depths of the sea!Night fell soon after this; but the long-boat still held her way, running before the wind, and steering a nor’-nor’-west course by compass. We had now been going in that direction some two hours or more, and the skipper calculated that we were some thirty miles off the Wollaston Islands, which we ought to fetch by daylight next morning.Fortunately, it was a bright clear night, although there was no moon, only the stars twinkling aloft in the cloudless azure sky; and, thus, we were able to watch the waves so as to prevent them pooping us when two seas ran foul of each other, which they frequently did, racing against the wind, and eager, apparently, to outstrip it. Still, the most careful steering was necessary, and Jorrocks had to have out an oar astern, in order to aid the skipper’s control of the tiller, when he put the helm up or down suddenly so as to get out of the wash of the breakers.The jolly-boat, too, occasioned us much uneasiness; for when the tow-rope slackened at these moments of peril, she ran the chance of slewing round broadside on to the sea. However, thanks to the interposing aid of Providence, we got through the dangers of the night, and day dawned at last.It was a terribly anxious watch, though, for all hands—especially for the skipper and Jorrocks, and the men told off to hold the sheets of the sails; for these latter couldn’t be belayed, having to be hauled taut or let go at a moment’s notice.With the advent of day came renewed hope, in spite of our not being able yet to see land—nothing being in sight ahead or astern, to the right or the left, but the same eternal sea and sky, sky and sea, which the rising sun, although it lent a ray of radiance to the scene, only made infinitely more dreary and illimitable.Towards noon, however, away on the port bow, the peak of a snow-topped mountain was perceived just above the horizon.“Hurrah!” cried Captain Billings. “There’s our old friend Cape Horn! Another couple of hours straight ahead, and we ought to rise those islands I was speaking of. Do you see the Cape?” he shouted out across the little intervening space of water to Mr Macdougall in the jolly-boat.“Aye, aye—and it’s a glad seeght!” replied the mate, to which statement all hands cheered. Some provisions, which, through the thoughtful precaution of the skipper and the assistance of Pat Doolan, had been cooked before being placed on board, were now served out around—the long-boat the while steadily progressing on her course, now hauled a bit more to the westwards of north.About three o’clock in the afternoon another cheery hail broke the stillness that reigned amongst us; for we were all too anxious to talk, and those of the crew who were not attending to the sheets of the sails had composed themselves to sleep, under the thwarts amidships and on the gratings aft.“Land, ho!”The cry came from a man on the look-out in the bows; and the announcement was received with a ringing shout, for the heavens were beginning to get overcast, and the wind was rising, promising that, should we be compelled to remain afloat another night, we should not find it quite so pleasant as our experiences of the past one, in spite of what we then thought the dangerous character of the following waves; and, if it came on to blow in addition, the heavy running sea which we had then to contend with would be mere child’s play in comparison with what we might expect would get up in an hour or two.But, the nearness of the land led us to hope that we should not experience any further risk of being swamped. Long before sunset we approached it close enough to see where we were going.The nearest shore was that of an island, with high mountain peaks, but of little apparent extent, looking, as we saw it, barely a mile long. Near this were three or four other islands, although further to the northwards; while on the extreme left, some miles to the westwards, was the high snow-white peak which the skipper had said was Cape Horn, standing on a little island of its own that stretched out into the sea to a more southerly point than any of the other islets composing the archipelago.“Why, sir,” said I to Captain Billings, “I always thought that Cape Horn was part of the mainland, jutting out from the end of Tierra del Fuego—that’s what my school geography taught, at all events!”“Oh, no,” he replied. “It is on an island, sure enough, as all mariners know, although these chaps that write books for schools may not think it island enough to mention the fact. Where it stands is called Horn Island, and the next large one beyond it Wollaston Island; but I’m going to make for that little one ahead, as it is the nearest.”“And what is that called?” I asked.“Herschel Island, after the great astronomer,” answered the skipper. “I’ve been here before, my lad, and recognise the whole lot of them, and that is how I come to know about ’em.”“Are any people living there?” said I, presently, the boat nearing the island so quickly that we could see a line of white beach, with the waves breaking on it, lying below the chain of mountain ridges that ran across it “fore and aft,” as a sailor would describe it.“Only cannibals,” replied the skipper, placidly.“Cannibals on Herschel Island, and we going there!” I exclaimed, half astonished, half frightened.“Aye, they are there or thereabouts; but, at all events, we’re going to land on Herschel Island, as it’s a case with us of any port in a storm! Look out there, forwards!” he called out a moment or two after to the men. “Be ready to down the mainsail when I give the word. Steady with the sheets. Now!”And, with a grating noise, the boat’s keel struck the shore, carried forwards on the top of a huge wave, whose backwash, however, dragged us back into the deep the next second, slewing the head of the boat round at the same time, so that she hung broadside on.“Out oars, men—out oars for your life!” shouted the skipper, seeing the terrible danger that now threatened us in the very moment of safety; but, before the order could be executed, the long-boat was upset, and we were all tumbling about in the surf!

“Maircy on us!” exclaimed Mr Macdougall, who at that moment was just gingerly passing down the standard compass to Jorrocks, the boatswain, standing up in the stern-sheets of the long-boat alongside, and stretching up his hands as carefully to receive the precious instrument; and the sudden blinding flash of the explosion and concussion of the air that it caused, almost made him drop this in his fright. “Whateever on airth ees that noo?”

“Matter?” repeated the skipper after him coolly, taking in cause and effect at a glance. “Why, the gas generated by the heated coal in the hold has blown out the forepeak, that’s all! It is providential, though, that the wrench which the foremast gave to the deck-beams and bulkhead there when it carried away, so far weakened the ship forwards as to enable the gas to find vent in that direction, otherwise the entire deck would probably have been blown up—when it would have been a poor look-out for all of us here aft!”

“Gudeness greecious!” ejaculated the mate again, blinking bewilderedly, like an owl unexpectedly exposed to daylight; but Captain Billings did not waste time in any further explanations or unnecessary words.

“I hope nobody’s hurt! Run forwards, Leigh, and see,” he said to me.

Fortunately, however, all had escaped without a scratch, although fragments of the knees and other heavy portions of the vessel’s timbers had been hurled aloft and scattered in all directions, as if a mine had been sprung below—the woodwork descending afterwards in a regular hailstorm on our heads, blown into small pieces no bigger than matches, and mixed up with a shower of blazing sparks and coal-dust, making us all “as black as nayghurs,” as Pat Doolan said.

The stump of the foremast, in particular, described a graceful parabolic curve in the air, coming down into the water in close proximity to the bows of the long-boat—where, under the supervision of the boatswain, the steward and the carpenter were stowing provisions under the thwarts, making the two almost jump out of their skins. It descended into the sea with the same sort of “whish” which the stick of a signal rocket makes when, the propelling power that had enabled it previously to soar up so majestically into the air above being ultimately exhausted, it is forced to return by its own gravity to its proper level below, unable to sustain itself unaided by exterior help at the unaccustomed height to which it was temporarily exalted.

And in this respect, it may be observed here, although I do not believe the remark is altogether original, that a good many human rockets may be encountered in our daily life, which exhibit all the characteristic points and weaknesses of the ordinary material model that I have likened them to—composed of gunpowder and other explosive pyrotechnic substances, and familiar to all—for, they go up in the same brilliant and glorious fashion, and are veritable shining lights in the estimation of their friends and the fickle testimony of public opinion; only, alas, to descend to the ordinary level of every-day mortals, like the rocket-stick comes down in the end!

I need hardly say, though, that I had no thought of these reflections now; for, immediately after the explosion forwards, the flames which mounted aloft with it burst forth with full vigour, released from the confined space of the hold to which they had been previously limited, and the entire fore-part of the ship, from the waist to the knight-heads, became a mass of fire, the cavity disclosed by the riven deck adjacent to the fo’c’s’le being like a raging volcano, vomiting up clouds of thick yellow smoke from the glowing mass of ignited coal below, which almost suffocated us, as the ship went too slowly through the water for the vapour to trail off to leeward.

The mainmast was still standing, with the mainsail set before the southerly wind, that was blowing in towards the land, the force of the explosion not being vented much further aft than the windlass bitts; but, almost as we looked, tongues of flame began to creep up the main rigging, and the huge sail was presently crackling away like tissue paper to which a lighted match has been applied, large pieces of the burning material being whirled in the air.

The heat now became unbearable, and Captain Billings, much to his grief, saw that the time had come for him to abandon the ship.

“We must leave her, Leigh,” said he to me, with as much emotion as another person might have displayed when wishing a last farewell to some dearly-loved friend or relative. “There is no good in stopping by the old barquey any longer, for we can’t help her out of her trouble, and the boats may be stove in by the falling mainmast if they remain alongside much longer. Poor old ship! we’ve sailed many a mile together, she and I; and now, to think that, crippled by that gale and almost having completed her v’yage, she should be burnt like a log of firewood off Cape Horn!”

“Never mind, sir,” said I, sympathisingly. “It has not happened through any fault of yours.”

“No, my lad, I don’t believe it has, for a cargo o’ coal is a ticklish thing to take half round the world; as more vessels are lost in carrying it than folks suppose! However, this is the last we’ll ever see of the oldEsmeralda, so far as standing on her deck goes; still, I tell you what, Leigh, you may possibly live to be a much older man than I am, but you’ll never come across a ship easier to handle in a gale, or one that would go better on a bowline!”

“No, sir, I don’t think I shall,” I replied to this panegyric on the doomed vessel, quite appreciating all the skipper’s feelings of regret at her destruction; but just then the flames with a roar rushed up the main hatch, approaching towards the poop every moment nearer and nearer.

This at once recalled Captain Billings from the past to the present.

“Have you got everything aboard the boats?” he sang out in his customary voice to Mr Macdougall, his tones as firm and clear as if he had not been a moment before almost on the point of crying. “Are all the provisions and water in?”

“Aye, aye, an’ stoowed awa’, too, Cap’en,” answered the mate, to whom had been entrusted the execution of all the necessary details. “A very thin’s aboord, and naething forgot, I reecken.”

“Then it’s time we were aboard, too,” said the skipper. “Boatswain, muster the hands!”

Jorrocks didn’t have to tap on the deck with a marlinspike now to call them, in the way he used to summon the watch below to reef topsails in the stormy weather we had off Madeira and elsewhere; for the men were all standing round, ready to start over the side as soon as the skipper gave the word of command to go.

Captain Billings then called over the list of the crew from the muster roll, which he held in his hand along with the rest of the “ship’s papers”—such as theEsmeralda’scertificate of registry, the manifest of the cargo, and her clearance from the custom-house officers at Cardiff; when, all having answered to their names, with the exception of the two invalids, Mr Ohlsen, and Harmer, the seaman, both of whom were already in the long-boat, the skipper gave the word to pass down the gangway, apportioning seven hands in all to the jolly-boat, under charge of Mr Macdougall, and the remainder of our complement to the long-boat, under his own care.

Including the invalids, we were seven-and-twenty souls in all—now compelled to abandon our good ship, and trust to those two frail boats to take us to the distant coast of Tierra del Fuego, of which we were not yet even in sight; and it was with sad hearts that we went down the side of this poorEsmeraldafor the last time, quitting what had been our floating home for the two months that had elapsed since we left England, for the perils we had encountered in her had only endeared her the more to us!

Captain Billings was the last to abandon the ship; lingering not merely until we had descended to the boats, seven in one and nineteen as yet only in the other without him, but waiting while we settled ourselves along the thwarts; when, turning round, he put his feet on the cleats of the side ladder and came down slowly, looking up still at the old vessel, as if loth to leave her in such an extremity.

The jolly-boat had been already veered astern on receiving her allotted number, the long-boat only waiting alongside for the skipper, with a man in the bows and another amidships, fending her off from the ship’s side with a couple of boat-hooks, so that the little barque should not dash against the hull of the bigger one, now she was so loaded up—a collision would have insured destruction to all in her, the huge billows of the Southern Ocean rolling in at intervals, and raising her so high aloft as to overtop the ship sometimes, and again carrying her down right under theEsmeralda’scounter, thus making her run the risk of being stove in every instant.

It was too perilous a proximity; so, as soon as Captain Billings had got down into the stern-sheets, he gave the order to shove off.

“Easy her away gently, men,” he said, as he took up the tiller lines, watching with a critical eye the movements of the men amidships and in the bow, as they poled the boat along the side of the ship until it passed clear of her by the stern. “Be ready there with your oars, sharp!”

In another moment the boat was tossing about in the open sea, the height and force of the waves becoming all the more apparent now that we had lost the protection of theEsmeralda’slee. The flames just then, as if angry at our having escaped them, darted up the mizzen rigging, and presently enveloped the poop in their blaze, so that the whole ship was now one mass of fire fore and aft, blazing like a tar-barrel.

The skipper would have liked to have lain by and seen the last of the vessel, but there was too much sea on, and the wind seemed getting up again; so, knowing how treacherous the weather was in the vicinity of the Cape of Storms, he determined, for the safety of those under his charge, to make for the land as speedily as possible—an open boat not being the best craft in the world to be in, out on the ocean, when a gale is about!

As Captain Billings could see, the wind was blowing on shore, in the very direction for us to go; and, as the rollers were racing towards the same goal, the only way for us to avoid being swamped by them was to travel at a greater rate forwards than they did, or else we would broach-to in the troughs of the waves, when a boat is apt to get for the moment becalmed, from the intervening wall of water on either side stopping the current of air, and taking the breeze out of her sails.

The long-boat was fitted with a couple of masts, carrying a large mainsail and a mizzen, both of which the skipper now ordered to be set, the former close-reefed to half its size. A bit of a staysail was also hoisted forwards in place of the jib, which was too large for the wind that was on; and then, it was wonderful to see the way the long-boat began to go through the water when the sail was put on her! She fairly raced along, dragging astern the jolly-boat, which we had taken in tow, the little craft leaving a curly wave in front of her cutwater, higher than her bows, and looking as if it were on the point of pouring over on top of those in her.

It was now late in the afternoon of this, our sixty-third day out of port; and, as the sun sank to rest in the west, away in the east, according to our position in the boat, there was another illumination on the horizon.

It was that caused by the burning ship. But it did not last so long: the fire of coals and wood could not vie with that of the celestial orb.

We could still see the blazing hull, as we rose every now and then on the crest of the rollers; while, when we could not perceive it from the subsidence of the waves under the boat’s keel, making us sink down, a pillar of smoke, floating in the air high above theEsmeraldain a long fan-like trail, and stretching out to where sky and sea met in the extreme distance, told us where she was without any fear of mistake.

Soon after we had quitted the vessel the mainmast, when half consumed, tumbled over the side; and, presently, the burning mizzen, which had been standing up for some time like a tall fiery pole, disappeared in a shower of sparks.

The end was not far off now.

As we rose on the send of the next sea, Captain Billings, by whose side I was sitting in the stern-sheets of the long-boat, grasped my arm.

“Look!” he said, half turning round and pointing to where the burning ship had last been seen.

She was gone!

The smoke still hung in the air in the distance, like a funeral pall; but the wind was now rapidly dispersing it to leeward, there being no further supply of the columns of cloud-like vapour that had originally composed it.

Soon, too, the smoke had completely disappeared, and the horizon was a blank.

“All’s over!” cried the skipper, with a heavy sigh.

All was over, indeed; for, whatever fragments of the ill-fatedEsmeraldathe remorseless fire may have spared, were now, without doubt, making their way down to the bottom of that wild ocean on which we poor shipwrecked mariners were tossing in a couple of frail boats—uncertain whether we should ever reach land in safety, or be doomed to follow our vessel’s bones down into the depths of the sea!

Night fell soon after this; but the long-boat still held her way, running before the wind, and steering a nor’-nor’-west course by compass. We had now been going in that direction some two hours or more, and the skipper calculated that we were some thirty miles off the Wollaston Islands, which we ought to fetch by daylight next morning.

Fortunately, it was a bright clear night, although there was no moon, only the stars twinkling aloft in the cloudless azure sky; and, thus, we were able to watch the waves so as to prevent them pooping us when two seas ran foul of each other, which they frequently did, racing against the wind, and eager, apparently, to outstrip it. Still, the most careful steering was necessary, and Jorrocks had to have out an oar astern, in order to aid the skipper’s control of the tiller, when he put the helm up or down suddenly so as to get out of the wash of the breakers.

The jolly-boat, too, occasioned us much uneasiness; for when the tow-rope slackened at these moments of peril, she ran the chance of slewing round broadside on to the sea. However, thanks to the interposing aid of Providence, we got through the dangers of the night, and day dawned at last.

It was a terribly anxious watch, though, for all hands—especially for the skipper and Jorrocks, and the men told off to hold the sheets of the sails; for these latter couldn’t be belayed, having to be hauled taut or let go at a moment’s notice.

With the advent of day came renewed hope, in spite of our not being able yet to see land—nothing being in sight ahead or astern, to the right or the left, but the same eternal sea and sky, sky and sea, which the rising sun, although it lent a ray of radiance to the scene, only made infinitely more dreary and illimitable.

Towards noon, however, away on the port bow, the peak of a snow-topped mountain was perceived just above the horizon.

“Hurrah!” cried Captain Billings. “There’s our old friend Cape Horn! Another couple of hours straight ahead, and we ought to rise those islands I was speaking of. Do you see the Cape?” he shouted out across the little intervening space of water to Mr Macdougall in the jolly-boat.

“Aye, aye—and it’s a glad seeght!” replied the mate, to which statement all hands cheered. Some provisions, which, through the thoughtful precaution of the skipper and the assistance of Pat Doolan, had been cooked before being placed on board, were now served out around—the long-boat the while steadily progressing on her course, now hauled a bit more to the westwards of north.

About three o’clock in the afternoon another cheery hail broke the stillness that reigned amongst us; for we were all too anxious to talk, and those of the crew who were not attending to the sheets of the sails had composed themselves to sleep, under the thwarts amidships and on the gratings aft.

“Land, ho!”

The cry came from a man on the look-out in the bows; and the announcement was received with a ringing shout, for the heavens were beginning to get overcast, and the wind was rising, promising that, should we be compelled to remain afloat another night, we should not find it quite so pleasant as our experiences of the past one, in spite of what we then thought the dangerous character of the following waves; and, if it came on to blow in addition, the heavy running sea which we had then to contend with would be mere child’s play in comparison with what we might expect would get up in an hour or two.

But, the nearness of the land led us to hope that we should not experience any further risk of being swamped. Long before sunset we approached it close enough to see where we were going.

The nearest shore was that of an island, with high mountain peaks, but of little apparent extent, looking, as we saw it, barely a mile long. Near this were three or four other islands, although further to the northwards; while on the extreme left, some miles to the westwards, was the high snow-white peak which the skipper had said was Cape Horn, standing on a little island of its own that stretched out into the sea to a more southerly point than any of the other islets composing the archipelago.

“Why, sir,” said I to Captain Billings, “I always thought that Cape Horn was part of the mainland, jutting out from the end of Tierra del Fuego—that’s what my school geography taught, at all events!”

“Oh, no,” he replied. “It is on an island, sure enough, as all mariners know, although these chaps that write books for schools may not think it island enough to mention the fact. Where it stands is called Horn Island, and the next large one beyond it Wollaston Island; but I’m going to make for that little one ahead, as it is the nearest.”

“And what is that called?” I asked.

“Herschel Island, after the great astronomer,” answered the skipper. “I’ve been here before, my lad, and recognise the whole lot of them, and that is how I come to know about ’em.”

“Are any people living there?” said I, presently, the boat nearing the island so quickly that we could see a line of white beach, with the waves breaking on it, lying below the chain of mountain ridges that ran across it “fore and aft,” as a sailor would describe it.

“Only cannibals,” replied the skipper, placidly.

“Cannibals on Herschel Island, and we going there!” I exclaimed, half astonished, half frightened.

“Aye, they are there or thereabouts; but, at all events, we’re going to land on Herschel Island, as it’s a case with us of any port in a storm! Look out there, forwards!” he called out a moment or two after to the men. “Be ready to down the mainsail when I give the word. Steady with the sheets. Now!”

And, with a grating noise, the boat’s keel struck the shore, carried forwards on the top of a huge wave, whose backwash, however, dragged us back into the deep the next second, slewing the head of the boat round at the same time, so that she hung broadside on.

“Out oars, men—out oars for your life!” shouted the skipper, seeing the terrible danger that now threatened us in the very moment of safety; but, before the order could be executed, the long-boat was upset, and we were all tumbling about in the surf!

Chapter Twenty Two.An Austral Aurora.A wild cry went up to Heaven as we struggled for dear life in the water, battling with the under-tow of the in-rolling waves, which tried to drag us down in their angry clutches; but first one and then another emerged dripping on the sands, even Mr Ohlsen having saved himself without help, although he had been snugly tucked up in his hammock a moment before, and was lying down in the stern-sheets when the boat capsized.Poor Harmer, however, whose broken leg was only fresh set, and the bones not united, was unable to put out a hand on his own behalf, and seeing he had not gained the beach with the others, I looked eagerly about for him, knowing that in his crippled state it was almost impossible for him to have got ashore.Just then, his head appeared some twenty feet out from the land, in the midst of the boiling surf, with his hands stretched out in mute entreaty to us, appealing for succour as he was being carried out rapidly to sea.Who could refrain from venturing in again to rescue him?Certainly not I; and, as I dashed in, Pat Doolan followed my example, the cook uttering a wild Irish yell that had the effect of animating several of the rest of the sailors to lend us a helping hand, although they had not the pluck to dash in too.“Hooroo, boys!” he shouted. “Follow me leader, ye spalpeens, and let us say who’ll raich the poor drowning chap first! Ould Oireland for iver!”He reached Harmer almost as soon as I, and the two of us took hold of him together—the poor fellow, however, being already insensible, made no effort whatever to keep up and help himself, and was absolutely limp in our grasp.We managed to swim back in with our burden on the top of a roller, well enough; but when we tried to secure our footing on the shore, the under-tow took us out again, although Pat Doolan flung himself face downwards on the sand, clutching it with one of his hands while he held the half-drowned man with the other in the same way as I did. Once, twice, we made the attempt; and yet, in spite of our desperate struggles, both of us putting forth all our strength, the backwash of the waves laughed at our resistance, floating us back again out into deep water. At our third try, however, and it would have been the last, for we were both exhausted by this time, the men on the beach—who had formed a line holding on to one another, Jorrocks being foremost and Captain Billings next, wading in up to their necks in the sea—managed to catch hold of us, when we were dragged out by sheer force; Pat and I, with Harmer between us, all lumped together in a confused mass, and the hands hauling us in with a “Yo, heave ho!” as if they were pulling at the topsail halliards or getting the main tack aboard!My swim after Mr Macdougall was nothing to this, although I had then battled with the sea for over an hour, while now the Irishman and I had not been ten minutes over our fight with the remorseless waves; but it was a terrific contest whilst it lasted, and albeit we had both come off victorious, thanks to the timely assistance of our comrades, we were nearly worsted, and so utterly pumped out that another five minutes of it would have ended the matter very differently. As it was, I had to lie on the sands, whither Jorrocks had lifted me beyond the reach of the tide, for a considerable period before I could either move or speak, while Pat Doolan was in an equally sorry plight.When I at last gained my voice, I stammered out a question—“How’s Harmer?” I asked, anxiously.But Captain Billings, who was beside me, lifting up my head tenderly with his arm placed round me, shook his head sadly.“Poor fellow,” he said; “you did your best, but he must have been gone before you reached him. He’s quite dead—you were too late to save him!”I declare this news affected me more than all I had gone through; and, whether from weakness, or from the reaction after such violent exertion producing a feeling of hysteria, I cannot tell; all I know is, that I turned my face away from the kind-hearted skipper who was supporting me, and cried like a child—I, who thought myself then a man!Meanwhile, as I found out when I had recovered from my emotion and was able to stand up and look about me, my shipmates had not been idle in trying to retrieve the effects of our unfortunate landing; for which the skipper upbraided his own carelessness, laying the blame on himself, and saying that he ought to have known better than to have tried to rush the boat in with such a ground swell on!The tow-rope of the jolly-boat had been cast-off shortly before we approached the shore, Captain Billings hailing Mr Macdougall and telling him to bring her head to the sea, and lay off until we got ashore; so, there she was, riding in safety, about half a cable’s length out, beyond reach of the surf, while we were tumbling about in it after the long-boat had upset us so unexpectedly without ceremony.Mr Macdougall was about to pull in at once, on seeing thecontretemps, but the skipper, the moment he fetched the shore, and before I had gone in after Harmer, had directed him still to keep off and get a line ready to heave in, as by that means those in the jolly-boat would not only be able to land in a better way than ourselves, but, also, some portion of the stores of our boat might be recovered, as well as the craft itself—the long-boat having only turned over, and still floating in the midst of the breakers, bobbing up and down bottom upwards.This task was now being proceeded with by all hands.Forming again a line, as when they had dragged Pat Doolan and myself out—the men holding each other’s hands, for they had no rope as yet to tackle on to—several articles near in shore had been already picked up; and, now that I was all right again, the skipper at once set about getting the jolly-boat in, besides trying to secure the long-boat.Each, amongst other necessary parts of his equipment, had been provided with a coil of strong half-inch line, in addition to their proper painters, and on Captain Billings singing out to the first mate, and telling him what to do, the jolly-boat with her six oars manned was backed in just beyond reach of the surf. The end of the line, which Mr Macdougall held ready with a sounding-lead attached to it to make it swing further, was then hove ashore.It fell short, some ten feet out in the midst of the eddy caused by the backwash, but the leading hand of the long-boat’s crew, after one or two dives in the surf, in which he got knocked down and rolled over, succeeded finally in grasping the sounding-lead.Then, with a loud hurrah, the end of the line was hauled in towards us, communication being thus established with those in the jolly-boat. The stay the rope afforded steadied her in the water, so that she rode more easily, which made the next operation, that of getting hold of the overturned long-boat, more practicable, and not as likely to jeopardise her safety as would otherwise have been the case.The coil of rope was fully a hundred feet long, and of sufficient length to pass twice between the jolly-boat ashore and back again, leaving a few spare yards over; so, first throwing over a grapnel to anchor her head out to the sea, the water being only some three fathoms deep where she was riding, and the men in her being now wanted for something else besides rowing to keep her from drifting in, the other end of the line was belayed, and the boat easied in with the utmost care, two of the hands still keeping to their oars, until she reached the wrecked boat.Then Haxell, the carpenter, pluckily volunteered to jump over the side, and try, by diving underneath, to catch hold of the long-boat’s painter or some of her headgear, all attempts to reach such by the aid of a boat-hook being impossible from the motion of the two boats in the restless water. After a bit, the taciturn but useful man obtained the object in view, dragging out from below the long-boat’s stern the very tow-rope with which we had been previously pulling the jolly-boat along while sailing towards the land, before casting her off, and our subsequent upset.This rope was now fastened to the shore-line with a double hitch, and our lot on the beach hauling in, we presently had the satisfaction of seeing the stern of our own craft working in towards us, the jolly-boat still remaining out beyond reach of the rollers, until the long-boat had grounded; when, seeing a proper opportunity, she too was got in safely—without, however, any previous upset, like ours, and indeed without her taking in any perceptible quantity of water so as to damage her cargo or give her crew a ducking, all of whom, with the exception of Haxell, who of course had sought a bath of his own accord, getting to land dry-shod, unlike us, who had been drenched from head to foot, and were now shivering with cold, the temperature of the air being below freezing point.It was now high-water, as Captain Billings observed from the marks on the shore; so, as nothing more could then be done towards getting the long-boat further in and righting her, and the hands were pretty well tired out with their exertions, he called a rest as soon as the jolly-boat was hauled up well beyond reach of the waves, which still broke threateningly on the beach—impelled by the force of the wind, now blowing a stiff gale from the south-west, and covering the beach with breakers that sent showers of foam over us, even when we had moved many yards away.“Spell O!” sang out the skipper. “Boatswain, pipe down the men to dinner.”We had to encroach on the jolly-boat’s stores, the provisions being divided between the two boats although our craft, being the larger of the two, had of course carried the major portion. This could, however, only now be looked upon as lost; for the seawater must have spoilt everything eatable.However, as the crew had gone through a good deal of hardship, the skipper did not attempt to ration them down to any smaller allowance on this our first evening on Herschel Island; and so, when a fire was built up, and some hot coffee brewed by Jorrocks, who usurped Pat Doolan’s functions on this occasion, the Irishman being still too weak from his efforts to rescue poor Harmer to be of much use yet, we all had a hearty meal, feeling much the better thereby.After this, the skipper told the men to lie down round the fire, which we found very grateful when the sun had set, besides its enabling us to dry our wet clothes; but the crew were warned that they would have to rouse up about midnight, when Captain Billings expected the tide would have gone down sufficiently to enable us to get the long-boat out of danger, and turn her over on the beach beyond high-water mark.I confess that I went off to sleep at once; and neither the shaking of Jorrocks, nor the noise the men made in righting the long-boat, served to wake me up till it was broad daylight next morning, when I opened my eyes to find the sun shining down on a calm sea that hardly made a ripple on the beach, with the long-boat upright in her proper position, alongside the jolly-boat, and high and dry ashore.There was a delicious smell of something cooking in one of Pat Doolan’s galley pots, hung gipsy fashion over a roaring fire, and superintended by the Irishman, now himself again. A large tent had also been rigged up by the aid of the boat sails and tarpaulins, making the place have the appearance of a cosy encampment, and offering a pleasant change to the desolate look it had worn the previous afternoon—when the sea was roaring in, hurling a deluge of foam on the beach, and we, wet and forlorn, were endeavouring to save the flotsam and jetsam of the long-boat’s cargo.“Sure an’ you’re a foine gintleman, taking it aisy,” said Pat Doolan, when I went up to him. “An’ is it a pannikin o’ coffee you’ll be afther wanting, this watch?”“I shouldn’t refuse it if you offered it,” said I, with a laugh.“Be jabers, you’re the bhoy for the coffee!” he replied cheerily. “An’ its meeself that’s moighty proud to sarve you. Sure an’ I don’t forgit how you thried, like a brave gossoon, to save that poor chap last night!”“Ah!” I ejaculated, feeling melancholy when he thus brought up Harmer’s fate, which had passed out of my mind for the moment. “But you did your best, too, Pat.”“Bad was the bist then, alannah, bad cess to it!” said he. “There, now, Mister Leigh, dhrink your coffee an’ ha’ done with it. The poor chap’s gone, and we can’t call him back; but have you heard tell of the news? Misther ‘Old-son-of-a-gun’ is moighty bad this morning, too, and the skipper think’s he’s a going too, by the same token!”“Indeed!” I cried, turning towards the tent, seeing Captain Billings standing close by it. The news was too true. The wetting and shock to the system had completed what a low fever had begun, and Mr Ohlsen’s days—nay, hours—were numbered. Ere the sun had again set, we had to mourn the loss of the second of our shipmates!Towards evening of this day, the wind got up again even more fiercely than it had done the night before—the heavy southern billows rolling in again upon the beach with a terrible din, although they could do no harm now to either of our boats, both being snugly sheltered beyond their reach.But when it grew dark, we witnessed a wonderful phenomenon.It made many of the seamen believe that they were dreaming over again the scene connected with the burning of theEsmeralda; while others went almost wild with terror, fancying that the end of the world was come—or that, at all events, the natural display we saw of the greatest wonder of the arctic and antarctic worlds, was a portent of fresh disasters to us, greater than all we had already passed through!The heavens were as black as death all around, with no moon. Not a star to be seen; when, all at once, the whole horizon glowed with a living fire, lighting up the ocean in front of us, and reflecting upwards and outwards from the snow-covered peaks on the background of water beyond the beach. The wave-tossed surface of the sea changed to a bright vermilion tint, making it look like a lake of raging flames. Through the crimson sky, streaks of brighter light shot across at intervals from right to left, and back again from left to right, in coruscations of darting sparks that would ever and anon form themselves into crosses and diamonds of different shapes; while, in the middle of this wonderful transformation scene, the wind blew with immense force, howling over sea and land with a wild shriek and deep diapason, accompanied by blinding showers of hail and sleet and snow, that made us all creep under the folds of the canvas of our tent for shelter.“What is this? What does it mean?” I asked Captain Billings, who seemed the only one of us unmoved by the unwonted sight, that had as much terror as grandeur about it.“It is what is called an Austral aurora—theaurora Australis, as scientific men term it; though, how it is caused and what it is occasioned by, I’m sure I can’t explain to you, my lad. All I know is this, that it is never seen in the vicinity of Cape Horn without a stiff gale and rough weather following in its track; so we had better all of us look out for squalls!”

A wild cry went up to Heaven as we struggled for dear life in the water, battling with the under-tow of the in-rolling waves, which tried to drag us down in their angry clutches; but first one and then another emerged dripping on the sands, even Mr Ohlsen having saved himself without help, although he had been snugly tucked up in his hammock a moment before, and was lying down in the stern-sheets when the boat capsized.

Poor Harmer, however, whose broken leg was only fresh set, and the bones not united, was unable to put out a hand on his own behalf, and seeing he had not gained the beach with the others, I looked eagerly about for him, knowing that in his crippled state it was almost impossible for him to have got ashore.

Just then, his head appeared some twenty feet out from the land, in the midst of the boiling surf, with his hands stretched out in mute entreaty to us, appealing for succour as he was being carried out rapidly to sea.

Who could refrain from venturing in again to rescue him?

Certainly not I; and, as I dashed in, Pat Doolan followed my example, the cook uttering a wild Irish yell that had the effect of animating several of the rest of the sailors to lend us a helping hand, although they had not the pluck to dash in too.

“Hooroo, boys!” he shouted. “Follow me leader, ye spalpeens, and let us say who’ll raich the poor drowning chap first! Ould Oireland for iver!”

He reached Harmer almost as soon as I, and the two of us took hold of him together—the poor fellow, however, being already insensible, made no effort whatever to keep up and help himself, and was absolutely limp in our grasp.

We managed to swim back in with our burden on the top of a roller, well enough; but when we tried to secure our footing on the shore, the under-tow took us out again, although Pat Doolan flung himself face downwards on the sand, clutching it with one of his hands while he held the half-drowned man with the other in the same way as I did. Once, twice, we made the attempt; and yet, in spite of our desperate struggles, both of us putting forth all our strength, the backwash of the waves laughed at our resistance, floating us back again out into deep water. At our third try, however, and it would have been the last, for we were both exhausted by this time, the men on the beach—who had formed a line holding on to one another, Jorrocks being foremost and Captain Billings next, wading in up to their necks in the sea—managed to catch hold of us, when we were dragged out by sheer force; Pat and I, with Harmer between us, all lumped together in a confused mass, and the hands hauling us in with a “Yo, heave ho!” as if they were pulling at the topsail halliards or getting the main tack aboard!

My swim after Mr Macdougall was nothing to this, although I had then battled with the sea for over an hour, while now the Irishman and I had not been ten minutes over our fight with the remorseless waves; but it was a terrific contest whilst it lasted, and albeit we had both come off victorious, thanks to the timely assistance of our comrades, we were nearly worsted, and so utterly pumped out that another five minutes of it would have ended the matter very differently. As it was, I had to lie on the sands, whither Jorrocks had lifted me beyond the reach of the tide, for a considerable period before I could either move or speak, while Pat Doolan was in an equally sorry plight.

When I at last gained my voice, I stammered out a question—

“How’s Harmer?” I asked, anxiously.

But Captain Billings, who was beside me, lifting up my head tenderly with his arm placed round me, shook his head sadly.

“Poor fellow,” he said; “you did your best, but he must have been gone before you reached him. He’s quite dead—you were too late to save him!”

I declare this news affected me more than all I had gone through; and, whether from weakness, or from the reaction after such violent exertion producing a feeling of hysteria, I cannot tell; all I know is, that I turned my face away from the kind-hearted skipper who was supporting me, and cried like a child—I, who thought myself then a man!

Meanwhile, as I found out when I had recovered from my emotion and was able to stand up and look about me, my shipmates had not been idle in trying to retrieve the effects of our unfortunate landing; for which the skipper upbraided his own carelessness, laying the blame on himself, and saying that he ought to have known better than to have tried to rush the boat in with such a ground swell on!

The tow-rope of the jolly-boat had been cast-off shortly before we approached the shore, Captain Billings hailing Mr Macdougall and telling him to bring her head to the sea, and lay off until we got ashore; so, there she was, riding in safety, about half a cable’s length out, beyond reach of the surf, while we were tumbling about in it after the long-boat had upset us so unexpectedly without ceremony.

Mr Macdougall was about to pull in at once, on seeing thecontretemps, but the skipper, the moment he fetched the shore, and before I had gone in after Harmer, had directed him still to keep off and get a line ready to heave in, as by that means those in the jolly-boat would not only be able to land in a better way than ourselves, but, also, some portion of the stores of our boat might be recovered, as well as the craft itself—the long-boat having only turned over, and still floating in the midst of the breakers, bobbing up and down bottom upwards.

This task was now being proceeded with by all hands.

Forming again a line, as when they had dragged Pat Doolan and myself out—the men holding each other’s hands, for they had no rope as yet to tackle on to—several articles near in shore had been already picked up; and, now that I was all right again, the skipper at once set about getting the jolly-boat in, besides trying to secure the long-boat.

Each, amongst other necessary parts of his equipment, had been provided with a coil of strong half-inch line, in addition to their proper painters, and on Captain Billings singing out to the first mate, and telling him what to do, the jolly-boat with her six oars manned was backed in just beyond reach of the surf. The end of the line, which Mr Macdougall held ready with a sounding-lead attached to it to make it swing further, was then hove ashore.

It fell short, some ten feet out in the midst of the eddy caused by the backwash, but the leading hand of the long-boat’s crew, after one or two dives in the surf, in which he got knocked down and rolled over, succeeded finally in grasping the sounding-lead.

Then, with a loud hurrah, the end of the line was hauled in towards us, communication being thus established with those in the jolly-boat. The stay the rope afforded steadied her in the water, so that she rode more easily, which made the next operation, that of getting hold of the overturned long-boat, more practicable, and not as likely to jeopardise her safety as would otherwise have been the case.

The coil of rope was fully a hundred feet long, and of sufficient length to pass twice between the jolly-boat ashore and back again, leaving a few spare yards over; so, first throwing over a grapnel to anchor her head out to the sea, the water being only some three fathoms deep where she was riding, and the men in her being now wanted for something else besides rowing to keep her from drifting in, the other end of the line was belayed, and the boat easied in with the utmost care, two of the hands still keeping to their oars, until she reached the wrecked boat.

Then Haxell, the carpenter, pluckily volunteered to jump over the side, and try, by diving underneath, to catch hold of the long-boat’s painter or some of her headgear, all attempts to reach such by the aid of a boat-hook being impossible from the motion of the two boats in the restless water. After a bit, the taciturn but useful man obtained the object in view, dragging out from below the long-boat’s stern the very tow-rope with which we had been previously pulling the jolly-boat along while sailing towards the land, before casting her off, and our subsequent upset.

This rope was now fastened to the shore-line with a double hitch, and our lot on the beach hauling in, we presently had the satisfaction of seeing the stern of our own craft working in towards us, the jolly-boat still remaining out beyond reach of the rollers, until the long-boat had grounded; when, seeing a proper opportunity, she too was got in safely—without, however, any previous upset, like ours, and indeed without her taking in any perceptible quantity of water so as to damage her cargo or give her crew a ducking, all of whom, with the exception of Haxell, who of course had sought a bath of his own accord, getting to land dry-shod, unlike us, who had been drenched from head to foot, and were now shivering with cold, the temperature of the air being below freezing point.

It was now high-water, as Captain Billings observed from the marks on the shore; so, as nothing more could then be done towards getting the long-boat further in and righting her, and the hands were pretty well tired out with their exertions, he called a rest as soon as the jolly-boat was hauled up well beyond reach of the waves, which still broke threateningly on the beach—impelled by the force of the wind, now blowing a stiff gale from the south-west, and covering the beach with breakers that sent showers of foam over us, even when we had moved many yards away.

“Spell O!” sang out the skipper. “Boatswain, pipe down the men to dinner.”

We had to encroach on the jolly-boat’s stores, the provisions being divided between the two boats although our craft, being the larger of the two, had of course carried the major portion. This could, however, only now be looked upon as lost; for the seawater must have spoilt everything eatable.

However, as the crew had gone through a good deal of hardship, the skipper did not attempt to ration them down to any smaller allowance on this our first evening on Herschel Island; and so, when a fire was built up, and some hot coffee brewed by Jorrocks, who usurped Pat Doolan’s functions on this occasion, the Irishman being still too weak from his efforts to rescue poor Harmer to be of much use yet, we all had a hearty meal, feeling much the better thereby.

After this, the skipper told the men to lie down round the fire, which we found very grateful when the sun had set, besides its enabling us to dry our wet clothes; but the crew were warned that they would have to rouse up about midnight, when Captain Billings expected the tide would have gone down sufficiently to enable us to get the long-boat out of danger, and turn her over on the beach beyond high-water mark.

I confess that I went off to sleep at once; and neither the shaking of Jorrocks, nor the noise the men made in righting the long-boat, served to wake me up till it was broad daylight next morning, when I opened my eyes to find the sun shining down on a calm sea that hardly made a ripple on the beach, with the long-boat upright in her proper position, alongside the jolly-boat, and high and dry ashore.

There was a delicious smell of something cooking in one of Pat Doolan’s galley pots, hung gipsy fashion over a roaring fire, and superintended by the Irishman, now himself again. A large tent had also been rigged up by the aid of the boat sails and tarpaulins, making the place have the appearance of a cosy encampment, and offering a pleasant change to the desolate look it had worn the previous afternoon—when the sea was roaring in, hurling a deluge of foam on the beach, and we, wet and forlorn, were endeavouring to save the flotsam and jetsam of the long-boat’s cargo.

“Sure an’ you’re a foine gintleman, taking it aisy,” said Pat Doolan, when I went up to him. “An’ is it a pannikin o’ coffee you’ll be afther wanting, this watch?”

“I shouldn’t refuse it if you offered it,” said I, with a laugh.

“Be jabers, you’re the bhoy for the coffee!” he replied cheerily. “An’ its meeself that’s moighty proud to sarve you. Sure an’ I don’t forgit how you thried, like a brave gossoon, to save that poor chap last night!”

“Ah!” I ejaculated, feeling melancholy when he thus brought up Harmer’s fate, which had passed out of my mind for the moment. “But you did your best, too, Pat.”

“Bad was the bist then, alannah, bad cess to it!” said he. “There, now, Mister Leigh, dhrink your coffee an’ ha’ done with it. The poor chap’s gone, and we can’t call him back; but have you heard tell of the news? Misther ‘Old-son-of-a-gun’ is moighty bad this morning, too, and the skipper think’s he’s a going too, by the same token!”

“Indeed!” I cried, turning towards the tent, seeing Captain Billings standing close by it. The news was too true. The wetting and shock to the system had completed what a low fever had begun, and Mr Ohlsen’s days—nay, hours—were numbered. Ere the sun had again set, we had to mourn the loss of the second of our shipmates!

Towards evening of this day, the wind got up again even more fiercely than it had done the night before—the heavy southern billows rolling in again upon the beach with a terrible din, although they could do no harm now to either of our boats, both being snugly sheltered beyond their reach.

But when it grew dark, we witnessed a wonderful phenomenon.

It made many of the seamen believe that they were dreaming over again the scene connected with the burning of theEsmeralda; while others went almost wild with terror, fancying that the end of the world was come—or that, at all events, the natural display we saw of the greatest wonder of the arctic and antarctic worlds, was a portent of fresh disasters to us, greater than all we had already passed through!

The heavens were as black as death all around, with no moon. Not a star to be seen; when, all at once, the whole horizon glowed with a living fire, lighting up the ocean in front of us, and reflecting upwards and outwards from the snow-covered peaks on the background of water beyond the beach. The wave-tossed surface of the sea changed to a bright vermilion tint, making it look like a lake of raging flames. Through the crimson sky, streaks of brighter light shot across at intervals from right to left, and back again from left to right, in coruscations of darting sparks that would ever and anon form themselves into crosses and diamonds of different shapes; while, in the middle of this wonderful transformation scene, the wind blew with immense force, howling over sea and land with a wild shriek and deep diapason, accompanied by blinding showers of hail and sleet and snow, that made us all creep under the folds of the canvas of our tent for shelter.

“What is this? What does it mean?” I asked Captain Billings, who seemed the only one of us unmoved by the unwonted sight, that had as much terror as grandeur about it.

“It is what is called an Austral aurora—theaurora Australis, as scientific men term it; though, how it is caused and what it is occasioned by, I’m sure I can’t explain to you, my lad. All I know is this, that it is never seen in the vicinity of Cape Horn without a stiff gale and rough weather following in its track; so we had better all of us look out for squalls!”

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