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Charley Laurel: A Story of Adventure by Sea and Land, a fiction by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 2. The Life-Raft |
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_ Chapter Two. The Life-Raft
Dick had been the busiest of the busy. He now appeared, with no small pride in his countenance, leading by the hand a little boy dressed in a seaman's jacket and trowsers, his shirt-collar turned down, and a little tarpaulin hat stuck on the top of his curly head. He went boldly aft, till he reached the captain, who, with several officers, was standing on the quarterdeck. "Touch your hat, Charley," said Dick. Charley obeyed promptly with a true sailor's manner, showing that his guardian had, according to his own ideas, commenced his education, and had at all events taught him to be obedient. "Please, sir, this here little chap is Charley Laurel, as I brought aboard t'other night," began Dick. "Some wanted to call him one name, some another. We called him Charley, sir, after Mr Slings, the boatswain, who offered to stand godfather; and 'cause, as I may say, he belongs to all of us, we have given him the name of Laurel, after the old barky, if that's agreeable to you, sir." "I have no objection to any name you may give him," answered the captain; "but I warn you that we shall have before many weeks to restore him to his friends, when we shall find out his proper one, and I have no doubt they will be glad to reward you for the care you have taken of him." "I want no reward, sir, except perhaps a glass of grog to drink their healths, and small thanks we will give them if they take him from us. It will be hard to lose him as well as our other booty, especially when he takes to us so kindly. To my mind, he will be much better off with us than among them niggers, who will just spoil him with sugar-cane and letting him have his own way. Besides, sir, the black woman gave him to me, and unless you says so, we will not hand him over to them." Dick slapped his leg as he spoke, as a clencher to his assertion, and in his eagerness was going to use a strong expression, when, recollecting that he was on the quarterdeck, and to whom he was speaking, he stopped short. "Well, my man," said the captain, good-naturedly, not offended with Dick's freedom, "make the most of the little fellow while you have him, and we will see what to do with him by-and-by." There is an old saying which should never be forgotten, that "Man proposes, but God disposes." It was the hurricane season. Captain Blunt had been doing his best to get the damages the ship had received repaired. He was pacing the deck, and every now and then casting an anxious eye round the horizon, knowing well that the gallant little _Laurel_ was ill able to withstand either a gale or an enemy, by either of which she might be assailed, although, like a true sailor, he was ready to meet the one or the other with undaunted courage. The ocean was like a sheet of glass, and the hot sun struck down on the deck with tremendous force. Those who could, sat in the shade, those who could not, as Dick observed, "had to grin and bear it, though it was not much odds where a man got to, it was hot everywhere." Now and then a covey of flying-fish might be seen skimming over the ocean, but they came out of the water to avoid the jaws of their persevering foes, the dolphins or bonitos, not because they liked it, or wished to exhibit their brilliant wings, but the wiser leviathans of the deep kept in the cooler regions below the surface. Gradually a thin mist filled the atmosphere; it seemed to come from nowhere, but there it was, though the heat was in no way diminished by it, but rather increased. Still the pumps had to be kept going, and the crew had to stand at them, whether in sunshine or shade, stripped to the waist, the perspiration running down from every pore. No one grumbled, though "spell ho!" was oftener than usual cried, and numerous visits were paid to the water-cask by those who generally disdained the pure liquid unless mixed with rum. The captain's countenance wore an unwonted grave expression; the officers, too, looked serious, and their eyes were constantly turned round, now in one direction, now in the other. Presently the captain shouted with startling energy-- "All hands shorten sail! clew up! haul down! Be smart, my lads!" The courses were quickly brailed up and furled, the fore-staysail alone being set. A dark cloud was seen away to the south-west, gathering as it approached a vast assemblage of black masses which appeared to come out of space, advancing rapidly till they formed one dense column. The men were scarcely off the yards when a sheet of white foam came hissing over the hitherto calm surface of the ocean, followed by a deafening roar as wave after wave arose, each higher than its predecessor, and then the hurricane in all its irresistible might struck the sorely-battered ship. Over she heeled before it, the fore-staysail with a loud report flew out of the bolt-ropes ere it had done its duty of paying off the ship's head. Again and again the savage blast struck her side, pressing her still farther down, while the ever-increasing seas broke in foaming masses over her. The captain gave the order to cut away the mizzen-mast, and set another staysail. For a moment there was a lull, the ship rose, and her head feeling the wind, away she flew before the howling gale. The carpenter sounded the well. He had an alarming report to make to the captain--the water was gaining faster than ever on the ship. Dick heard it. "To my mind the old barky will be going down," he said to himself. "I must look after Master Charley, for if she does, it won't do to have the little chap going to Davy Jones' locker. It is all very well for those as are bred to it, but, bless his young heart! I must do what I can to keep him afloat." Dick was a man of action rather than words. He immediately filled his capacious pockets with all the provisions he could lay hands on. In the launch on deck he found a basket which had been brought on board with vegetables. There were a number of broken spars and other fragments of wood, the remains of the boats which had been carried away. He began to lash them firmly together in a mode which a seaman only could have accomplished; and in the centre of the raft he had thus formed he secured the basket, which had a lid to it. One of the officers saw him, and told him to knock off. "Ay, ay!" he answered; but it was not a moment, he conceived, to stand on ceremony, and immediately again went on with his work. The boatswain also set his eyes on him. "What are you about there, Dick?" he asked. "Off with you to the pumps; it will be your spell directly." "I am building a raft for your godson, Mr Slings," answered Dick. "You would not wish the pretty little chap to be drowned if there's a chance of saving him, and please Heaven, I will try and do it, though I am as ready as any on myself to stick to the old barky to the last." "Don't you be talking of the ship going down," exclaimed the boatswain, gruffly; "you will be making the rest chicken-hearted." "You know as well as I do, Mr Slings, that go down she will, before many hours are over, unless old 'Harry Cane' takes himself off pretty smartly." Dick could not resist the sailor's common joke even at that moment. "I cannot say you nay, Dick," answered the boatswain; "but all this comes of having babies aboard; we must try and keep the ship above water, anyhow." The raft being completed, Dick got hold of a small beaker of water, which he secured to it; he also formed a paddle, and laid alongside of it a spar of considerable length. Having finished his work, he slipped below, and brought up little Charley, with a bundle of bedding and a blanket. The child greatly objected to go to bed in the basket, and still more so to be lashed in, as Dick was doing. Dick knew that nobody would interfere with the child, but still he placed him as much out of sight as possible, just abaft the fore-mast. "You be good boy, Charley, and don't cry out," he said, trying to soothe him. "There is a biscuit--chaw it, lad. I have to take a spell at the pumps, and will be back directly." As soon as Dick could leave his work at the pumps, he hurried back to the child, and threw himself down to rest by his side. The ship flew on before the gale. Every one, knowing that their lives depended on their exertions, laboured away with desperation: some were sent below to bale with buckets, which were passed up to others stationed on deck, but all their efforts, it appeared too likely, would be of no avail. Still the water gained on them. The only hope was that the hurricane might cease, and that a sail might be got under the ship's bottom. Preparations were made for doing this as soon as it was practicable, but the wind blew harder and harder. The main-mast had before been badly sprung, and during one of the fearful lurches the ill-fated ship made, down it came, crushing the launch, on which depended the only hope of saving the lives of some of them. Dick rushed forward, fearing his little charge had suffered, but Charley still lay unhurt in his basket on the raft. Suddenly there came a lull, and the hurricane ceased almost as rapidly as it had commenced: the sea, however, still tumbled and tossed about fiercely on either side, the ship lying helpless in the midst of the foaming waves. The crew laboured as gallantly as before, though their stout arms were giving way, and many knew too well that all hope was nearly gone. Some with the sharpest eyes were sent to the mast-head, to look out for any ship which might have approached before the calm came on; but as they cast their anxious eyes around the horizon, not a sail was to be seen rising out of the dark tumbling waters. Dick had gone again to the pumps. "Spell ho!" he cried, for he had worked till he could work no longer. He had just thrown himself down by the side of the raft when a fearful cry arose. "The ship is sinking! the ship is sinking!" Dick seated himself on the raft, with a spar in his hand which he had prepared. Lower and lower the gallant ship sank. Many of the crew were at the pumps; some were still below, some running to the forecastle, others aft. Dick kept his post. The water rushed in at the ports--the raft floated--a surge carried it overboard, Dick urging it by a shove which sent it far away from the ship's side. The _Laurel_ gave one plunge forward--her stern rose in the air--and down she glided beneath the tumultuous waters. One fearful shriek arose of strong men in their agony. Some few attempted to reach the raft, but they were drawn down in the vortex caused by the sinking ship. Dick vigorously plied his paddle, and though tumbled and tossed fearfully about, he got far enough off to escape the danger of being drawn down with the rest. Had he not had Charley to look after, he would have shared the fate of his shipmates, he thought; and so he would, I am sure. Though he was himself frequently under water, and often almost washed off the little raft, the child, protected in the basket, remained nearly dry. As Dick gazed back towards where the stout ship had lately floated, he could see a few struggling forms with arms outstretched, and hear their last cries for help ere they sank for aye, till that awful day when the sea shall give up its dead; and in a few minutes he and little Charley were the only living beings of all the gallant fellows who had formed the crew of the ill-fated _Laurel_. _ |
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