Chapter 23

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

I find that I am getting on so slowly with my narrative, and have so many adventures to tell, that omitting a number of events of less interest to my readers, I must sketch rapidly the history of several months which passed after the last escape of the _Emu_.

In vain we searched for her for several days, but not a trace of her could we find; not a spar nor a plank to show that she had gone down when she disappeared from our sight in the squall. We were then, it must be remembered, in the neighbourhood of the Arru Islands. We cruised along the coast of New Guinea, off which we thought the _Emu_ might be prowling. It was curious, that though we were out of sight of land, on several occasions a number of birds, towards the evening, came on board to roost. They appeared to be land birds. The colours of some were very beautiful, and in many we could trace a resemblance to our small ducks, magpies, and larks. We also encountered daily a vast number of a species of whale, which collected round the schooner, and watching her as if they thought her some strange fish. One day they had collected in more than usual numbers, and while I watched them swimming round and round the vessel, their huge backs now and then appearing above the water, I could not help thinking that they were holding a consultation together in contemplation of an attack on us. Sometimes they would swim directly at the vessel, and then diving under her, appear at the other side. I got my rifle, intending to have a shot at one of them; though I must own that I think it very wrong to kill animals without an object, when they can be of no use to any one, merely for the sake of trying one's dexterity as a marksman on them.

"You had better not," observed Van Graoul, when he saw what I was about to do. "They may take it ill, and revenge themselves." I thought he was joking, as he was, in part, and so, loading my rifle, I fired at a huge fellow, whose back appeared at a little distance off. Whether the ball entered his skin or glanced off, I could not tell; for he sunk immediately, and I was preparing for another shot, when he, or one of his fellows, rose on the opposite side. There he remained, spouting for a minute or so, and then down he dived, and directly afterwards we felt a blow on the keel, which almost shook the masts out of the vessel, and sent some of the people sprawling on deck. The crew jumped about with dismay, thinking the schooner was sinking, and Ungka rushed to Hassan and hugged him round the neck, as if he was resolved to be drowned with him.

"I told you so," said Van Graoul. "They are not fellows to be played with."

No real damage was done; nor did the whales renew the attack. I suspect the fellow hurt his back too much to try the same trick again.

No tidings of the _Emu_ were to be gained; and weary of looking for her in that direction, we stood to the westward, towards the island of Celebes, to the south of Ceram. We had had a fine breeze all the day; but as the evening drew on, it fell considerably; and when the sun sunk beneath the water, it became perfectly calm. The night was hot, and I remained long on deck in earnest conversation with Fairburn. He was endeavouring to console and encourage me; for I own that at times I almost began to despair of the success of my undertaking. There was a moon in the heavens in the early part of the night; but that also set, and I was thinking of turning in, when I observed a bright light in the sky to the westward, and on watching it attentively, it appeared as if it arose from some large fire close down to the water. Fairburn remarked it also.

"Can it be a burning mountain?" I asked; "or do you think the natives of any island thereabouts have been creating a blaze for their amusement?"

"There is no burning mountain or any island in that direction," he answered. "See, it rises higher and higher, till the ruddy glare extends over the whole sky! It can be but from one cause."

"What is that?" I asked.

"A ship on fire," he replied. "I have witnessed such a sight before, and have no doubt about it."

"Unhappy people!" I exclaimed; "we must try and help them."

"I fear that with this calm we shall be unable to get near them in time to be of any use," said Fairburn. "If a breeze were to spring up, we may save those who may take to their boats or secure themselves on rafts."

For a long time we watched the burning vessel, for such we were persuaded was before us; and earnestly we prayed for a breeze to carry us to the rescue of our fellow-beings, whoever they might be. We calculated that the ship was about nine or ten miles off, so that, with a good wind, we might hope to get up to her in rather more than an hour. At length a breeze fanned our cheeks, our sails filled, and we began to move rapidly through the dark and silent sea. As we drew near the fire, we saw that we were not mistaken in our conjectures; for before us appeared a large brig, with her masts still standing, but flames were blazing up around them, running along the yards and burning the canvas and rigging, while the whole hull seemed a mass of fire, fore and aft. As we were looking, first one mast tottered, and was followed directly by the other, and, amid an outburst of sparks, they fell hissing into the sea. The flames then seemed to triumph still more furiously than before. We looked in vain for any boats, or planks, or rafts, on which any of the crew might be floating. The whole sea around was lighted up; but the flames shone alone on the dancing waves. We were yet some way off; we therefore sailed on with the intention of getting as close as we could without danger to ourselves, to render any aid in our power. We passed the time in discussing what the vessel could be, and by what means she could have caught fire.

"With the extraordinary carelessness seamen too often are guilty of, it is surprising that ships do not oftener catch fire than is the case," said Fairburn. "Such is the fate of many of those which are never again heard of. Probably the destruction of this vessel arises from the same cause."

"Is it not often the custom of pirates, after they have robbed a vessel, to set her on fire to avoid discovery?" I asked casually. I scarcely know why I put the question, except that my thoughts were naturally running on the _Emu_.

"Oh yes, it may be so," said Van Graoul, who heard the observation; "but still I don't think it."

"What do you say? Suppose it is the _Emu_ herself," remarked Barlow thoughtlessly.

"Heaven forbid!" I ejaculated. "Remember who I fancy is on board."

"Oh sir, I do not mean to say that I have any reason to suppose that yonder vessel is the _Emu_," he replied, seeing the pain the idea gave me. "She looks a much larger craft, and higher out of the water."

When we got close to the burning wreck, we hove-to to windward, and had our boats ready to lower in case we should perceive any living beings either on board or in the water. We soon saw, however, that on the deck of the brig there was not a spot, on which a person could stand free from the raging flames. I also attentively examined her, as did Fairburn; and to my infinite relief we were persuaded that she was altogether a totally different vessel from the _Emu_, for she was much longer and higher out of the water,--indeed, a large merchantman; and from her build we judged her to be Spanish. As I was examining the vessel, I observed, through the flames which were surrounding them, that the boats were still hanging to the davits. The circumstance was extraordinary, and we could only account for it, by supposing that the fire had burst forth so suddenly that the crew had not time to lower them, or that some other means of escape had been afforded them. We had not long to consider the point, and to arrive at the conclusion, before the flames had completely consumed the deck and sides, rendered peculiarly combustible by the heat of the climate; and, after raging for a few minutes with renewed fury, the hull sunk gradually from our sight, and the fiery furnace was quenched by the waves as they leaped triumphantly over it. Though we had seen no living beings, we still could not but suppose that some of the passengers or crew must have escaped, and were at no great distance. I was very unwilling, therefore, to leave the spot till we had ascertained the fact; and I resolved accordingly to remain hove-to till the morning. We fired a gun at intervals to attract the attention of any of the people; but hour after hour passed away, and no answer was made. The sun at last arose. A few charred planks and spars were floating near us, showing that we had kept one position during the night; but we could see no boat or raft. Look-outs were sent aloft to scan the ocean around.

They had not been long at their posts, during which time the daylight had been increasing, before one hailed the deck to report a sail right away to windward.

"What is she, do you think?" asked Fairburn.

"A square-rigged craft; her topgallant sails just show above the water," was the answer.

Directly after, the other look-out hailed, to say that he saw a speck, or some similar object, floating to leeward. Our glasses were turned towards it; and Fairburn, mounting to the crosstrees, reported that he saw a human figure hanging to it. Nothing else appearing, we instantly bore down to the spot. As we approached it, we observed that there indeed was a man attached to a hen-coop; but whether he was dead or alive it was difficult to say, as he did not move or make any sign. A boat was instantly lowered, and Fairburn jumping into it, the man was soon brought on board.

"He has still life in him, I think," said Fairburn, as he placed him on deck; "but I suspect he has met with some foul usage. See what a gash he has got across the temple; and here is a bullet-hole through his arm, or I am much mistaken."

I had not yet looked at the countenance of the wounded man. We got a mattress, and carefully carried him down into the cabin, where he was placed under the skylight on a sofa, so as to obtain sufficient air. I saw at once, by his appearance and dress, which was what any landsman might wear on board ship, that he was not a seaman; and I suspected, moreover, that he was a gentleman; not of course that, whatever his rank, we should have made any difference in our treatment of him. We had him stripped and wrapped in blankets, and then well rubbed; and we soon had the satisfaction of seeing the livid appearance of his skin wear off, and after several deep respirations, his features lost their sharp contraction, and his lips began to move, and he opened his eyes. He then looked steadfastly at me, and a smile of satisfaction played round his mouth, while he made a strong effort to speak. As he did so, I felt almost certain that I recognised the well-known countenance of my old school-fellow, John Prior. The idea had before flashed across my mind; but I had failed to see any likeness between my friend and the half-drowned stranger who was brought on board. I now, however, had little doubt on the subject.

"Prior, old fellow," I exclaimed, "I know it is you. But don't speak or agitate yourself; you shall tell me everything by and by when you get well, which you soon will, I know."

I took his hand as I spoke, and by the warm pressure he gave me in return, I felt very certain that I was not mistaken. The discovery, as may be supposed, did not lessen my zeal in the recovery of the wounded man.

Van Graoul, who had a very fair knowledge of surgery, and a sufficient modesty not to attempt more than his skill would warrant, after a careful examination of the wounds, pronounced them not dangerous; and making up a dose from the medicine chest, Prior swallowed it, and soon afterwards had gained sufficient strength to speak and sit up. Van Graoul had charged me to let him say only a few words, to give me any information which may be on his mind, and then to urge him to go to rest. The first word he uttered was my name.

"It is all very strange, indeed," he said. "But it is indeed a satisfaction to be with you, Seaworth, though I cannot tell how it has all occurred."

I told him how we had been attracted to the spot by the burning vessel, and picked him out of the water, urging him not to say more than was necessary at the moment.

"Ah, now I remember," he answered. "We were attacked by a pirate--a treacherous, cowardly pirate. They took us by surprise. We fought, however; but most of the crew were killed; some were carried off, I believe. I was knocked down below after being wounded, and supposed to be dead or dying. I was left to be burnt by the miscreants. I was only stunned, and soon recovering, I gained the deck just as they left it. The idea of being burned to death was too horrid to be endured. The boats were all destroyed, there was no time to make a raft; so, casting loose a hen-coop, I lowered it into the water, and lashed myself to it, trusting that Providence would find some means of preserving me; or, at all events, that I might thus enjoy a longer time to offer up my prayers to Heaven, and to prepare for death. It was an awful time, Seaworth; but I did not feel unhappy. I never possessed greater reliance in God's mercy. I trusted that, if He did not think fit to preserve my life, He would, through the merits of our Saviour, lead me to a glorious immortality in the next. I had no fear, strange as it may seem, I assure you."

"I should have said that of you, Prior, believe me," I replied. "But I must not let you talk more now. I have one question first to ask before I impose silence. What sort of a craft was the vessel which attacked you?"

"A low black brig; and her crew seemed of all nations," he replied.

"I thought so," I exclaimed. "It was the _Emu_, and she it is which is still in sight."

I instantly sent for Fairburn,--for he had left me with my friend alone,--and told him my suspicions. He had entertained the same opinion; and I found that, with all sail set, we were once wore again in chase of the mysterious craft which had so often escaped us.

Arranging Prior in a comfortable posture, I watched him till he fell asleep, his placid countenance, notwithstanding the dangers he had been in, showing a mind at rest and nerves unshaken. I found, on going on deck, that we had already risen the sails of the stranger above the horizon from the deck; and as we had the whole day before us, with a fair breeze, there was every probability of coming up with her. Should we overtake her, we had now, with Prior as a witness, stronger proofs than ever of her misdeeds. She had, however, so often escaped us, that I must own even I was not very sanguine of the result, and the crew, guided by the opinion of Dick Harper, were still less so. All the forenoon the chase continued. We were gaining on her certainly, but at the same time we were a long way from her; and early in the afternoon, the land appeared to the north-west, towards which she had altered her course.

When Van Graoul saw this, he shook his head. "So I did think," he remarked. "That craft is not to be caught so easily. If what is said of her is true, there is a worse fate for her in store than we have prepared for her."

Though the remark was made without reflection, I believe, I could not help thinking that there was much truth in it. Vengeance, far greater and more sure than the hand of man could inflict, would assuredly overtake the evil-doers.

The land we were approaching was of moderate height, thickly covered with trees, broken into headlands and promontories, and with numerous clusters of islands, and reefs, and rocks off it. Van Graoul knew it well, so that we boldly approached it. It became a question with us whether the pirates, seeing themselves so hard pressed, contemplated running the brig on shore, or whether they purposed taking up a position in one of the inlets of the coast, where they could defend themselves without risk of loss, should we attack them.

We, as before, outsailed them, proving that the _Fraulein_ was the fastest vessel of the two; and yet no one on board but believed that the _Emu_ would again escape us. She stood boldly in towards the shore, evidently well acquainted with it. We followed, with the lead going; there was, however, a good depth of water. When she had got within a quarter of a mile of the coast, she ran along it, and we kept after her. A headland, running a long way into the sea, appeared before us; she rounded it, and was concealed from our sight by the trees which covered it to the very edge of the water. We stood on, expecting again to see her, when we also had got round it. We had almost reached it, when, by standing too close in, we got becalmed, and for half an hour made but little progress. This we knew would, of course, give the _Emu_ a great advantage. At last, however, the breeze again filled our sails, and we were able to get round the point. As we did so, we saw the brig a long way ahead, now standing somewhat off the land. We continued the chase, and quickly made up for the distance we had lost. This day was, however, far spent, and it was already growing dusk before we approached her. My heart beat quick with the expectation of what was to occur. When we got her within range of our long gun, we began to fire at her rigging, more effectually to prevent her escaping. To our surprise, instead of returning the fire, or standing away from us, she rounded to and backed her main-top-sail till we ran alongside.

"There is something odd here," remarked Van Graoul; "I cannot make it out."

"Nor I," said Fairburn. "There is some treachery, I fear."

"What brig is that?" I asked, through the speaking-trumpet.

"The _Neversink_, John Jenkins, master, from Boston, with a cargo of notions," was the answer.

"Lower a boat, and come on board, then," I hailed.

There was apparently some little demur; but soon a boat was lowered, and with four hands in her, and a man in the stern-sheets, she came alongside. The man, without hesitation, stepped on board, followed by three others. By the light of a lantern, held to show him the way, he seemed a decent, respectable sort of a person, dressed in the usual costume of a merchant skipper, with a swallow-tailed coat, and a straw hat.

"Well, I calculate I have made a mistake," he exclaimed, squirting out a stream of tobacco juice, when he found himself confronted by Fairburn, Van Graoul, and me. "I thought I was on board a Dutch man-of-war schooner; but you won't be hard upon a poor fellow, now, will you, gentleman? The cargo is all mine, and it's worth but little to you; and if you take it, or anything happens to me, I shall leave my disconsolate wife and small family destitute--I shall indeed." And Captain Jenkins began to cry and wring his hands.

"Why, pardon me if you don't like the term, but I took you for pirates, gentlemen--pirates and robbers."

"Dat is a good joke," said Van Graoul; "why, we thought you were de same. And I am not quite certain that he is not," he whispered in my ear.

He had, in the meantime, got a boat ready; and Barlow, with four hands, pulled on board the brig. While he was away, we kept Captain Jenkins in conversation, nor did he seem in any degree disconcerted at the departure of the boat, which he must have observed. When Barlow returned, he reported that the brig, though about the size and build of what we supposed the _Emu_ to be, was, to all appearance, an honest merchantman, without anything suspicious about her. The captain said that he had come to trade with the natives in those parts; that he had just got out of harbour, and he had seen no vessel during the day till he had observed us rounding the point. His story was so plausible that we were compelled to believe him: and after he had taken a good supper with us, washed down by a bottle of wine, he returned on board, declaring that we were first-rate fellows, whether we were pirates or not. The next morning we commenced a strict scrutiny of the coast in search of the _Emu_; and for several days we followed it up, but in vain, and once more I was obliged to confess that I was as far from success as ever. _

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