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King o' the Beach: A Tropic Tale, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 3 |
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_ CHAPTER THREE. Meanwhile, after he had ineffectually tried everything possible to bring the steamer's head to wind by means of the sails, the captain had to give up and let her drift, rolling heavily in the trough of the sea. The storm still raged with terrific fury, and it was evident that the unmanageable vessel was being borne rapidly along. But by slow degrees the violence of the wind began to abate, and fresh efforts were made in the semi-darkness, and with the waves thundering over the deck from time to time, to hoist something in the way of sail. The men raised a cheer as this was at last successfully accomplished, and once more obeying her helm the great vessel ceased rolling, and rushed on for a few hundred yards at headlong speed. But it was only to her fate, for rising high upon a huge billow she was borne on for a short distance, and then there was the sudden check. She had struck on another of the terrible coral reefs, and was fast, offering an obstacle to the seething billows, at which they rushed, broke, and then fell over, deluging the deck, and tearing at everything in their way. There seemed nothing more to be done but strive in the darkness to save life, and captain and officers clung together and worked manfully. The minute after the vessel had struck on the reef there was a rush for the boats, but the officers were prepared. Revolvers leaped out, and three or four men were struck down, the captain setting the example. Then the fit of insubordination died out on the spot, and in perfect order one of the boats was filled with women passengers and a crew, the moment was watched, and it was cast off and floated away on a huge wave, to be seen for a few moments, before it disappeared in the darkness. Boat after boat was successfully despatched in this way without a single hitch, each receiving its crew commanded by one of the officers; and at last the barge only was left for the remainder and the captain, the last passenger having gone in the boat despatched before--the last so far as could be remembered in the hurry and confusion of the weird scene. There was ample room for all as the captain stood holding on while men hurriedly brought up and threw in bags of biscuit and such necessaries as could be obtained in the hurry, the barge lying in its chocks, lifting with every wave and ready to float out at the open side at any time. "Now then," cried the captain, in a voice hoarse from continuous shouting, "you, Bostock, down below with you and help the doctor bring up the young passenger." "Ay, ay, sir," cried the old sailor, and he waited a moment to avoid the water and then made a rush for the saloon cabin. The next minute he was down below. "Now, sir, quick," he said; "boat's just off. What! not ready?" "It is impossible to move him, my man," said the doctor in sombre tones. "It's murder to keep him here, sir," cried the old sailor. "Come on-- for your life!" As he spoke he caught Carey in his arms before the doctor could interfere, dashed open the door, and quickly carried the insensible lad up to the sea-washed deck, to stand aghast and then hold on for his life. For something white and ghastly, fringed with phosphorescent light, seemed to rise over the ship's side, curve down over, glide under the barge lying in its chocks, and then lift the laden boat away over the open side. It was seen for a few moments and then disappeared, going in one swift glide away into the darkness, leaving the doctor, his patient, and the old sailor amidst the hissing waters alone upon the deck. _ |
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