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Ben Burton, a fiction by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 6 |
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_ CHAPTER SIX The two gunboats, "Bam" and "Boo," had been a source of anxiety to our Captain, ever since they came into our possession, and fears were entertained, should another gale come on, that they might share the fate of the unfortunate "Zel". Their young commanders were ready to go anywhere in them, but it seemed very unlikely, should they make the attempt, that they would ever reach Canton, to which we were soon about to return. They were condemned therefore to be destroyed. They were beautiful looking craft, but were too likely to prove what the ten-gun brigs of those days often did--coffins for their living crews. Accordingly, all their stores being taken out of them, their crews set them on fire and returned to the frigates. I remember well seeing them blaze away and at length blow up, at which I clapped my hands, having some idea that they were fireworks let off expressly for my amusement. The frigates' damages being now repaired, a course was steered for the north. Being greatly in want of water, we put into another harbour on the coast where it was known that no Spanish settlement existed. The watering parties from our frigates proceeded to the shore, making six boats in all, the men being well armed. They ought properly to have remained for each other, but our boats came off first, leaving the "Zephyr's" to follow. Casks were being hoisted up, when the officers, through their glasses, perceived several men running down to the beach, making signals that an enemy was coming. Instantly all the remaining boats were manned, and away they pulled to the support of those on shore, led by the two Captains. There was no time to be lost, for as they approached the shore they saw our men defending themselves against a vast number of enemies. The natives, as the boats approached, took to flight, but it was evident that the number of our people was greatly diminished. The officer commanding the watering party was alive, though he had with difficulty escaped from the enemy, but two poor fellows lay dead upon the beach, and a third was desperately wounded, and was evidently dying. No less than nine had been carried off as prisoners. Our pilot, Mr Noalles, having accompanied the party, now proceeded with Captain Masterman and a very strong body in search of the natives. These, however, had fled at their approach. At length our party came upon a hut, in which a man was found who appeared by his dress and air to be of some consequence. He was lame from a wound, and had been unable to make his escape. Mr Noalles explained to him that we were in search of our men, and demanded their instant release. He was told that unless they were delivered up, their village would be destroyed, and their corn cut down. He promised to use his influence with his countrymen, and as our people retired to a distance, one or two persons were seen to enter his hut. After waiting, however, a considerable time, no one approached. Again the chief was appealed to, but he declared that he had no power in the place. At length Captain Masterman directed his followers to set the village on fire, while our men rushed into the corn fields, and in a short time made a clean sweep of several acres. Whether or not it was a wise proceeding, I think, is doubtful, for it was too probable that the natives would either kill their prisoners in revenge, or else make them labour as slaves to repay them for the damage they had received. This work being accomplished, the frigates got under weigh, the Captains intending to call off a place farther to the north where the Malay chief of the island resided, for the purpose of making him exert his influence for the recovery of the missing men. We were not very far from the latitude where the unfortunate "Zel" had foundered. Our people very naturally talked of their lost shipmates, and especially of young Mr Oliver, who, as I said, was a great favourite with all of them. My father especially looked on him with much affection, having saved his life once, seemed to regard him almost in the light of a son. We had had a fair wind all the morning, when suddenly it shifted round to the northward, and a sudden squall very nearly took the masts out of the two frigates. As it was impossible to say from what direction the breeze would next come, we continued standing off the land towards the town of Palawan. The wind had moderated, though it still blew strong, and we continued standing to the west, when a small island was sighted on the weather bow. As we drew in with it, Pat Brady, who was one of the look-outs, declared he saw a signal flying from the highest point in sight. I speak of it as an island--it seemed to be little more than a large rock--and the peak of which Brady spoke was forty or fifty feet or so out of the water. The ships' companies had been grumbling considerably at being delayed, as they were anxious to get back to Canton, where, it was hoped, we should receive orders to convoy the homeward-bound merchant fleet. The midshipman of the watch having reported what Pat Brady had seen, after we had run on some distance, the ship was hove to, and the glasses being directed in that direction, a man was made out waving apparently a shirt from the rock. A boat accordingly was instantly lowered and pulled towards it. The man kept his post for some time as the boat approached, making signals to those in her to pull round rather farther to the westward, as the surf beating on that side of the rock would prevent their landing. As the boat's head was once more put off the shore the men caught sight of the person on the rock. Pat Brady, who formed one of the boat's crew, looked up at him with a glance of astonishment. "I say, Jem," he exclaimed to the man next him, "either that's Mr Oliver or his ghost, as sure as my name is Pat Brady." "It's his ghost," was the answer, "for there is no doubt the gunboat went down a week ago; and it's not likely he or any other man could have swum out of her." "By my faith, then," answered Brady, "it must be his ghost; and sure enough he is more like a ghost than anything else." As they were speaking, the figure disappeared from the summit of the rock. "I told you so," said Brady, "depend on it, when we land, we may hunt about till doomsday, and we shall never find mortal man on this rock." These remarks were overheard by the other men, who seemed to agree very much with the opinions of the speakers. "He is fathoms deep down beneath the water, depend on that," observed another; "we shall never see young Mr Oliver with our mortal eyes again." At length Mr Martin, the Second-Lieutenant, who had gone in command of the boat, overheard the remarks of the men. He, however, from being somewhat near-sighted, had not observed any likeness in the figure on the rock to his lost shipmate. "Mr Oliver, do you think he is? I only hope so." "No, sir, we don't think it's Mr Oliver; but we think it is his ghost," blurted out Pat Brady; "and as to finding him, there's little chance we shall have to do that." "We will have a look for him at all events," answered Mr Martin. "Give way, lads, I see the place he pointed out to us; and if he is a ghost, at all events he has an eye for a good landing-place." The boat accordingly pulled in, and a small bay was found where the men could land with perfect ease. No one, however, was to be seen, and this confirmed the opinions the seamen had expressed. The island was rather larger than it appeared from the sea, and Mr Martin, leaving a couple of men in charge of the boat, proceeded with the rest inland. They looked about in all directions, and yet no human being could they discover. He at length began almost to fancy that they must have been deceived by some means or other, and yet he was certain that the figure he had observed at the top of the rock was that of a human being. I should have said that when the boat was lowered a bottle of water and a flask of spirits, with a small quantity of food, had also been put into her. This the men carried, it being supposed probable that the person on the rock would be suffering from hunger and thirst. "It's of no use," observed Pat to one of his companions. "I knew it was a ghost from the beginning, or may be just the devil in a man's shape to try and draw the ship in to get her cast away. We none of us know what tricks he can play." At length the men began to be positively uneasy, and to wish their officer to return. Mr Martin, however, had determined to examine the island thoroughly, before he gave up the search, being perfectly convinced that he had seen a man on the rock, though why he had afterwards hidden himself was unaccountable. The distance by water from the rock was, in consequence of the shape of the shore, considerably less than by land, and this might have accounted for their getting there before the person they had seen, but some other reason had now to be found for his not appearing. The more level part of the land had been passed over. No signs of water had been discovered. "Ah, poor fellow!" exclaimed Mr Martin, "he must, at all events, have suffered greatly for want of that." They now got near to the foot of the rock, on the top of which the man had been seen. All the sides appeared inaccessible, and it was unaccountable how he could have got up there. This further confirmed the men in the idea that they had beheld a ghost or spirit of some sort. Never, perhaps, before had their officer found greater difficulty in getting them to follow him. They would have done so ten times more willingly against an enemy greatly outnumbering them, with the muzzles of half-a-dozen guns pointed in their faces besides. Mr Martin continued to push on. At length he came to a rock in which was a small recess. Beckoning with his hand to his men, he hurried on, and there he saw, seated on the ground, the person of whom he had been in search, with a boy apparently in the last stage of exhaustion in his arms. He himself was unable to speak, but he pointed to the boy's mouth, and then to his own. Mr Martin understood the signs, and shouted to the men to come on with the provisions. Even then he could scarcely recognise the features of Harry Oliver, or of the young midshipman by his side, so fearfully had famine and exhaustion told on them. The men were soon gathered round the sufferers. Before Mr Oliver would take any of the spirits and water brought to him, he watched to see a few drops poured down the throat of his companion. The effect was almost instantaneous. His eyes, already glazing, it seemed in death, recovered a portion of their brightness, and a slight colour returned to his deadly pale cheeks. A moderate draught of the same mixture greatly restored the young officer, but he was even then unable to speak. "I told you he was a live man," observed Mr Martin at last to the seamen; "but if you had given way to your fears, you see in a very few minutes more both our young friends would have become what you supposed them already to be." The men now hurried back to bring some of the boat's oars and a sail on which they might convey the sufferers, for Mr Martin was anxious to get them on board without further delay. After waiting a little time longer, he considered that they were sufficiently recovered to be removed. Great was the astonishment, and greater still the satisfaction, of all on board when they arrived alongside. The young midshipman hovered for a considerable time between life and death. Had it not been, I believe, for the watchful care of my mother and the surgeon, he would, after all, have sunk under the hardships he had endured. Not, indeed, till the following day, was Mr Oliver himself able to give an account of his escape. Except the man at the helm, the crew of the gunboat had been forward when the squall came on. He and the midshipman Bramston were standing aft. He recollected, as the vessel sank beneath his feet, catching the lad in his arms, and springing over the taffrail. As to what became of the man at the helm, or the rest of the crew, he could not tell. For a few seconds he was drawn under the water, but returning to the surface again, he found close to him several spars that had been lashed together, but, as it appeared, not secured to the deck of the vessel. On these he threw himself and his young charge. A current, he supposed, swept them away to the westward. When daylight broke, he could clearly see the frigate; but after he had anxiously watched her, he observed her standing to the southward. He had little hopes of surviving, yet he resolved to persevere to the last. Still the spars afforded but a slight support. He had to dread, too, the attack of sharks. About two hours after daylight, however, he observed floating near him the stock of a large ship's anchor. Leaving young Bramston secured to the spars, towing them, he swam towards it. This afforded him and his companion a far safer resting-place. He was now able to lash several spars to the timber, while another formed a mast, and a second, which he and Bramston cut through with their knives, supplied them with paddles and a yard. On this they spread their shirts, which they split open. As the sun rose, his beams fell on an island in the far distance. The wind was fair, and towards it they directed their course. The current, too, favoured them. Without this their progress would have been very slow. They soon began to feel the want of water, but Oliver urged Bramston on no account to drink the salt water. The midshipman, on searching in his pockets, happily found a small quantity of biscuit, which he had thoughtlessly put there, he supposed, after supper that very night. This supplied them with food when their hunger became ravenous. Thus they sailed on the whole day. Happily the night was not very dark, and they were thus able to keep the island in sight. It was almost daylight the next morning when at length they found themselves driving in towards the rocks. With great difficulty they kept off, and coasted round to the very bay where Mr Martin had landed. Finding, however, that they could not get in their frail raft, they had after all, having repossessed themselves of their shirts, to swim on shore, Mr Oliver towing young Bramston, who was supported on a spar. They were almost exhausted when they landed, but, finding a shady place under a rock, they fell asleep, and awoke considerably refreshed. A few handfuls of water, in a crevice of a rock, assisted to keep them alive, while they, not without considerable danger, managed to collect some shell-fish from the rocks. Still, they found their strength daily decreasing, till the young midshipman was utterly unable to move. Every day Mr Oliver had climbed to the top of the rock in the hopes of some vessel passing. His joy at seeing his own frigate may be conceived. It was greatly damped, however, on finding that his young companion was, as he supposed, at his last gasp; and had not the Lieutenant and his party arrived at the moment they did, there can be no doubt that the lad would have died. He himself, indeed, was so exhausted, that he could with difficulty find his way down the rock, and after that was unable to move farther. On our return to the Phillipines, the Sultan, as the chief was called of whom I have spoken, had, we found, recovered our men, who little expected to be rescued from the hands of the savages. We then proceeded to Canton, where we found the homeward-bound merchant fleet ready to sail. We had work enough, I have an idea, in keeping our convoy of old tea-chests, as the merchantmen were called, together. I may say, however, that at length, after no small amount of anxiety to the Captains of the frigates, we arrived safely in the Downs. Our task performed, we were ordered to Portsmouth to be paid off. _ |
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