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Adrift on the Pacific: A Boys Story of the Sea and its Perils, a fiction by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
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Chapter 31. A Strange Craft |
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_ CHAPTER XXXI. A STRANGE CRAFT "I tell you a boy who uses his mother bad is sure to suffer for it some time. I've seen so many cases that I know there's such a law that governs the whole world. I thank heaven that I never brought a tear to my mother's eyes." The speaker was Captain Bergen, who was talking to Fred Sanders while the two sat together on the proa, near midnight succeeding the conversation mentioned between Inez and the youth Fred. The latter might have believed, as he had jocosely remarked, that he had captured a small party of missionaries, who were making a dead set at him; but his feelings had been touched in a most tender manner, and he had done more thinking during the last few hours than in all his previous life. The only one on the proa who was on duty was Fred, who held the steering-oar in place, while the curiously-shaped vessel sped through the water. The sea was very calm and the wind so slight that they were in reality going slower than at any previous time, and the task of guiding the boat was hardly a task at all. Fred sat looking up at the stars half the time, with his memory and conscience doing their work. His two men had lain down, and were asleep, for they were regular in all their habits, and he had seen nothing of Inez since she had withdrawn to her "apartment." Mate Storms kept up a fragmentary conversation with the young captain until quite late, when he withdrew, and Fred was left with himself for fully two hours, when Mr. Bergen crept softly forth and took a seat near him, even getting in such a position that he would have been very much in the way had any emergency arisen. The captain was disposed to talk--somewhat to Fred's dislike--for he was in that mood when he desired to be alone; but he was also in a more gracious and charitable temper than usual, and he answered the old captain quite kindly. "You've a good deal to be thankful for," said he, in reply to the remark above given. "But my mother has been in heaven for many a year." "She is fortunate, after all," said the captain, with a sigh, and a far-away look over the moonlit sea. "Yes, a great deal more fortunate than her son will ever be." "It all depends on you, young man," said the captain, severely. "Heaven is reached step by step, and there's no one who cannot make it. If you haven't started in the right direction, now's the time to do so." Fred Sanders may have assented to this, but he was silent, and he, too, looked off over the sea as if his thoughts were running in a new and unaccustomed channel. "My mother must be a very old woman by this time," added the captain, after a minute or more of silence, during which nothing but the rushing of the water was heard. "How old is she?" asked Fred. "She must be close on to eighty; and I think she's dead, for she was very feeble when I saw her, three years ago, in San Francisco. But I'm going to see her very soon; yes, very soon--very soon." "It's a long way to 'Frisco," ventured Fred, mildly; "but I hope you will have a quick voyage." "I am not going to wait till we get there." "How are you going to manage it, then?" "This way. I'm coming, mother!" And Captain Jack Bergen sprang overboard and went out of sight. "Heavens! what was that?" exclaimed Mate Storms, leaping forward from where he had been dozing upon his couch. "The captain has jumped overboard!" was the horrified reply of Fred Sanders, who was bringing the proa around as fast as he could. Without another word, Mate Storms made a bounding plunge after him, leaving the young captain to manage the craft as best he could. The latter uttered a sharp command which brought the crew to their feet in an instant, and, in an incredibly short space of time, the proa came around, and, scarcely losing any headway, moved back toward the spot where the demented man had sprung into the sea, which was now a long distance astern. It was a startling awaking for Abram Storms, who did his utmost for his unfortunate captain. The mate was a splendid swimmer, and, plunging forward with a powerful stroke, he called to his friend again and again, frequently lifting himself far out of the water, when on the crest of a swell, and straining his eyes to pierce the moonlight about him, hoping to catch sight of the figure of the captain, who was also a strong swimmer. But if he had jumped overboard with the intention of suicide, it was not to be supposed he would continue swimming. The mate, however, was hopeful that in that awful minute when he went beneath the waters, something like a realizing sense of what he had done would come to him and he would struggle to save himself. But, alas, for poor Captain Jack Bergen, who had journeyed so many thousand miles, and had endured such a long imprisonment upon a lonely island! He sent back no answering shout to the repeated calls of his mate, whose eyes failed to catch sight of his gray head as he rose and sank for a brief while on the water. When Fred Sanders got the proa about he guided its movements by the sound of the mate's voice, and, in a short while, he ran alongside and assisted him on board. Nothing had been seen nor heard of the captain, and there could be no doubt now that he was gone forever. Nevertheless, the proa continued cruising around the place for fully an hour, in widening circles, until all were convinced that not a particle of hope remained, when they filled away again, and a long, last farewell was uttered to Captain Jack Bergen. He had procured a fortune in a comparatively easy manner, and it looked for a time as if the payment was small; but the price demanded now was his life, and what more can a man give, excepting his soul?--which, most happily, was not the case with him. During these minutes of excitement, Inez Hawthorne slept soundly, and she never knew anything of the sad occurrence until the morrow was well advanced. Her grief prostrated her for many hours, for she was a child unusually affectionate by nature, and she had been tenderly attached to the captain, who had been such a father to her. It spread a gloom over the boat, as may be said, the only ones who showed no sorrow in their countenances being the dusky islanders, who seemed to take everything as it came along as a matter of course, and who obeyed the Caucasian captain like so many machines under the control of an engineer. Fred Sanders was thoughtful, and, what was rather curious, had little to say to Inez during the first portion of the day. He uttered a few words of sympathy when she sought to restrain her tears, but after that he kept very much to himself, as if there was some new and important matter on his mind, as was indeed the case. It will be remembered that the expectation was that the voyage of the proa would terminate that night by their arrival at their destination, but the delay caused by the moderate wind and the search for the lost captain led Mate Storms to feel some doubt, and he asked Captain Sanders his view of the matter. "I can't tell you anything about it!" It was not these words alone, so much as the abrupt manner, which set the mate somewhat back. He had received nothing of the kind from the youth since their meeting, and it astonished him. A hot reply rose to the lips of Abe Storms, but he suppressed it and moved away. "I wonder whether he doesn't feel soured at the thought that the death of the captain will prevent his getting such a large reward for his services?" said the mate to himself, who, after thinking over the matter for a few minutes longer, reached a conclusion. "We expected to reach Wauparmur Island to-night, before dark. We shall be late, but, as it is, I shall have no trouble in keeping awake the rest of the voyage, and I've little fear that I will not be able to protect my property as well as myself." With this, he moved back to the youth, and said, in a cheery voice: "You recall, sir, that poor Captain Bergen made some promises to you about rewarding you liberally for your services. My friend was a little wild in what he said, but he was right when he declared we had the means, and I wish simply to say that his wishes and intentions in that respect, which accorded with my own from the start, shall be carried out to the letter." Mr. Storms immediately joined Inez, while the captain made no reply, much to the discomfiture of the mate, who said to Inez: "What's the matter with Sanders?" "He is watching an object over the sea yonder. He has been expecting to discover something, and he has caught sight of it at last." The mate instantly produced his glasses, and leveled them in the direction the young captain was looking. There was something, indeed. As revealed by the instrument, it was what might be termed a double canoe, or proa--that is, two narrow canoes were joined together, side by side, and connected by a sort of framework, while an enormous lateen sail towered above them, and carried it forward with remarkable speed. The surprised mate carefully scrutinized the strange craft, and saw that it contained a large crew, there being, as he estimated, fully twenty men on board. It was to the westward of the smaller proa, and like that was pursuing almost a northerly course, though the experienced eyes of the sailor told him that the paths of the two were converging, and that, unless changed, they undoubtedly would meet before nightfall. The double canoe was about two miles distant, and as it rose on the crest of a swell the glass revealed the white foam which curled away from the bows, and there could be no doubt of its remarkable swiftness. After watching this strange craft for a few minutes, Mr. Storms devoted some time to a furtive but careful study of the face of Fred Sanders, who was on the most elevated portion of the proa, and was carefully noting the course of the two vessels. The alarming conclusion reached by Abram Storms was that the other craft contained a gang of pirates; that Fred Sanders knew them, and he was guiding his own proa by an understanding previously had with them. And Abram Storms was right. _ |
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