CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
REFLECTIONS--THE WOUNDED MAN--THE SQUALL--TRUE CONSOLATION--DEATH.
There is a power of endurance in human beings, both in their bodies andin their minds, which, I have often thought, seems to be wonderfullyadapted and exactly proportioned to the circumstances in whichindividuals may happen to be placed--a power which, in most cases, issufficient to carry a man through and over every obstacle that mayhappen to be thrown in his path through life, no matter how high or howsteep the mountain may be, but which often forsakes him the moment thesummit is gained, the point of difficulty passed, and leaves himprostrated, with energies gone, nerves unstrung, and a feeling ofincapacity pervading the entire frame that renders the most triflingeffort almost impossible.
During the greater part of that day I had been subjected to severemental and much physical excitement, which had almost crushed me down bythe time I was relieved from duty in the course of the evening. Butwhen the expedition whose failure has just been narrated was planned, myanxieties and energies had been so powerfully aroused that I wentthrough the protracted scenes of that terrible night without a feelingof the slightest fatigue. My mind and body were alike active and fullof energy. No sooner was the last thrilling fear of danger past,however, than my faculties were utterly relaxed; and when I felt thecool breezes of the Pacific playing around my fevered brow, and heardthe free waves rippling at the schooner's prow, as we left the hatedisland behind us, my senses forsook me, and I fell in a swoon upon thedeck.
From this state I was quickly aroused by Bill, who shook me by the arm,saying:
"Hallo, Ralph, boy! Rouse up, lad; we're safe now! Poor thing! Ibelieve he's fainted." And raising me in his arms he laid me on thefolds of the gaff-topsail, which lay upon the deck near the tiller."Here, take a drop o' this; it'll do you good, my boy," he added in avoice of tenderness which I had never heard him use before, while heheld a brandy-flask to my lips.
I raised my eyes gratefully as I swallowed a mouthful; next moment myhead sank heavily upon my arm, and I fell fast asleep. I slept long,for when I awoke the sun was a good way above the horizon. I did notmove on first opening my eyes, as I felt a delightful sensation of restpervading me, and my eyes were riveted on and charmed with the gorgeoussplendour of the mighty ocean that burst upon my sight. It was a deadcalm; the sea seemed a sheet of undulating crystal, tipped and streakedwith the saffron hues of sunrise, which had not yet merged into theglowing heat of noon; and there was a deep calm in the blue dome abovethat was not broken even by the usual flutter of the sea-fowl. How longI would have lain in contemplation of this peaceful scene I know not,but my mind was recalled suddenly and painfully to the past and thepresent by the sight of Bill, who was seated on the deck at my feet,with his head reclining, as if in sleep, on his right arm, which restedon the tiller. As he seemed to rest peacefully, I did not mean todisturb him; but the slight noise I made in raising myself on my elbowcaused him to start and look round.
"Well, Ralph, awake at last, my boy? You have slept long and soundly,"he said, turning towards me.
On beholding his countenance I sprang up in anxiety. He was deadlypale, and his hair, which hung in dishevelled locks over his face, wasclotted with blood. Blood also stained his hollow cheeks and coveredthe front of his shirt, which, with the greater part of his dress, wastorn and soiled with mud.
"Oh Bill!" said I with deep anxiety, "what is the matter with you? Youare ill. You must have been wounded."
"Even so, lad," said Bill in a deep, soft voice, while he extended hishuge frame on the couch from which I had just risen. "I've got an uglywound, I fear; and I've been waiting for you to waken to ask you to getme a drop o' brandy and a mouthful o' bread from the cabin lockers. Youseemed to sleep so sweetly, Ralph, that I didn't like to disturb you.But I don't feel up to much just now."
I did not wait till he had done talking, but ran below immediately, andreturned in a few seconds with a bottle of brandy and some brokenbiscuit. He seemed much refreshed after eating a few morsels anddrinking a long draught of water mingled with a little of the spirits.Immediately afterwards he fell asleep, and I watched him anxiously untilhe awoke, being desirous of knowing the nature and extent of his wound.
"Ha!" he exclaimed on awaking suddenly, after a slumber of an hour; "I'mthe better of that nap, Ralph. I feel twice the man I was;" and heattempted to rise, but sank back again immediately with a deep groan.
"Nay, Bill, you must not move, but lie still while I look at your wound.I'll make a comfortable bed for you here on deck, and get you somebreakfast. After that you shall tell me how you got it. Cheer up,Bill!" I added, seeing that he turned his head away; "you'll be allright in a little, and I'll be a capital nurse to you, though I'm nodoctor."
I then left him, and lighted a fire in the caboose. While it waskindling, I went to the steward's pantry and procured the materials fora good breakfast, with which, in little more than half-an-hour, Ireturned to my companion. He seemed much better, and smiled kindly onme as I set before him a cup of coffee and a tray with several eggs andsome bread on it.
"Now, then, Bill," said I cheerfully, sitting down beside him on thedeck, "let's fall to. I'm very hungry myself, I can tell you. But--Iforgot--your wound," I added, rising; "let me look at it."
I found that the wound was caused by a pistol-shot in the chest. It didnot bleed much, and as it was on the right side, I was in hopes that itmight not be very serious. But Bill shook his head. "However," saidhe, "sit down, Ralph, and I'll tell you all about it.
"You see, after we left the boat an' began to push through the bushes,we went straight for the line of my musket, as I had expected. But bysome unlucky chance it didn't explode, for I saw the line torn away bythe men's legs, and heard the click o' the lock; so I fancy the priminghad got damp and didn't catch. I was in a great quandary now what todo, for I couldn't concoct in my mind, in the hurry, any good reason forfirin' off my piece. But they say necessity's the mother of invention;so just as I was giving it up and clinchin' my teeth to bide the worsto't and take what should come, a sudden thought came into my head. Istepped out before the rest, seemin' to be awful anxious to be at thesavages, tripped my foot on a fallen tree, plunged head foremost into abush, an' ov coorse my carbine exploded! Then came such a screechin'from the camp as I never heard in all my life. I rose at once, and wasrushin' on with the rest when the captain called a halt.
"`You did that a purpose, you villain!' he said with a tremendous oath,and drawin' a pistol from his belt, let fly right into my breast. Ifell at once, and remembered no more till I was startled and broughtround by the most awful yell I ever heard in my life--except, maybe, theshrieks o' them poor critters that were crushed to death under yon bigcanoe. Jumpin' up, I looked round, and through the trees saw a firegleamin' not far off; the light of which showed me the captain and mentied hand and foot, each to a post, and the savages dancin' round themlike demons. I had scarce looked for a second when I saw one o' them goup to the captain flourishing a knife, and before I could wink heplunged it into his breast, while another yell, like the one that rousedme, rang upon my ear. I didn't wait for more, but bounding up, wentcrashing through the bushes into the woods. The black fellows caughtsight of me, however, but not in time to prevent me jumpin' into theboat, as you know."
Bill seemed to be much exhausted after this recital, and shudderedfrequently during the narrative; so I refrained from continuing thesubject at that time, and endeavoured to draw his mind to other things.
"But now, Bill," said I, "it behoves us to think about the future, andwhat course of action we shall pursue. Here we are, on the widePacific, in a well-appointed schooner, which is our own--at least, noone has a better claim to it than we have--and the world lies before us.Moreover, here comes a breeze, so we must make up our minds which wayto steer."
"Ralph, boy," said my companion, "it matters not to me which way we go.I fear that my time is short now. Go where you will; I'm content."
r /> "Well, then, Bill, I think we had better steer to the Coral Island andsee what has become of my dear old comrades, Jack and Peterkin. Ibelieve the island has no name, but the captain once pointed it out tome on the chart, and I marked it afterwards; so, as we know pretty wellour position just now, I think I can steer to it. Then, as to workingthe vessel, it is true I cannot hoist the sails single-handed, butluckily we have enough of sail set already; and if it should come on toblow a squall, I could at least drop the peaks of the main and foresails, and clew them up partially without help, and throw her head closeinto the wind, so as to keep her all shaking till the violence of thesquall is past. And if we have continued light breezes, I'll rig up acomplication of blocks and fix them to the topsail halyards, so that Ishall be able to hoist the sails without help. 'Tis true I'll requirehalf-a-day to hoist them, but we don't need to mind that. Then I'llmake a sort of erection on deck to screen you from the sun, Bill; and ifyou can only manage to sit beside the tiller and steer for two hoursevery day, so as to let me get a nap, I'll engage to let you off dutyall the rest of the twenty-four hours. And if you don't feel able forsteering, I'll lash the helm and heave-to while I get you yourbreakfasts and dinners; and so we'll manage famously, and soon reach theCoral Island."
Bill smiled faintly as I ran on in this strain.
"And what will you do," said he, "if it comes on to blow a storm?"
This question silenced me, while I considered what I should do in such acase. At length I laid my hand on his arm and said, "Bill, when a manhas done all that he can do, he ought to leave the rest to God."
"Oh Ralph," said my companion in a faint voice, looking anxiously intomy face, "I wish that I had the feelin's about God that you seem tohave, at this hour. I'm dyin', Ralph; yet I, who have braved death ahundred times, am afraid to die. I'm afraid to enter the next world.Something within tells me there will be a reckoning when I go there.But it's all over with me, Ralph. I feel that there's no chance o' mybein' saved."
"Don't say that, Bill," said I in deep compassion; "don't say that. I'mquite sure there's hope even for you, but I can't remember the words ofthe Bible that make me think so. Is there not a Bible on board, Bill?"
"No; the last that was in the ship belonged to a poor boy that was takenaboard against his will. He died, poor lad--I think throughill-treatment and fear. After he was gone, the captain found his Bibleand flung it overboard."
I now reflected, with great sadness and self-reproach, on the way inwhich I had neglected my Bible, and it flashed across me that I wasactually, in the sight of God, a greater sinner than this blood-stainedpirate; for, thought I, he tells me that he never read the Bible and wasnever brought up to care for it, whereas I was carefully taught to readit by my own mother, and had read it daily as long as I possessed one,yet to so little purpose that I could not now call to mind a single textthat would meet this poor man's case and afford him the consolation heso much required. I was much distressed, and taxed my memory for a longtime. At last a text did flash into my mind, and I wondered much that Ihad not thought of it before.
"Bill," said I in a low voice, "`Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, andthou shalt be saved.'"
"Ay, Ralph, I've heard the missionaries say that before now; but whatgood can it do me? It's not for me, that; it's not for the likes o'me."
I knew not now what to say, for although I felt sure that that word wasfor him as well as for me, I could not remember any other word whereby Icould prove it.
After a short pause, Bill raised his eyes to mine and said, "Ralph, I'veled a terrible life. I've been a sailor since I was a boy, and I'vegone from bad to worse ever since I left my father's roof. I've been apirate three years now. It is true I did not choose the trade, but Iwas inveigled aboard this schooner and kept here by force till I becamereckless and at last joined them. Since that time my hand has beensteeped in human blood again and again. Your young heart would growcold if I--But why should I go on? 'Tis of no use, Ralph; my doom isfixed."
"Bill," said I, "`Though your sins be red like crimson, they shall bewhite as snow.' Only believe."
"Only believe!" cried Bill, starting up on his elbow. "I've heard mentalk o' believing as if it was easy. Ha! 'tis easy enough for a man topoint to a rope and say, `I believe that would bear my weight;' but 'tisanother thing for a man to catch hold o' that rope and swing himself byit over the edge of a precipice!"
The energy with which he said this, and the action with which it wasaccompanied, were too much for Bill. He sank back with a deep groan.As if the very elements sympathised with this man's sufferings, a lowmoan came sweeping over the sea.
"Hist, Ralph!" said Bill, opening his eyes; "there's a squall coming,lad! Look alive, boy! Clew up the foresail! Drop the mainsail peak!Them squalls come quick sometimes."
I had already started to my feet, and saw that a heavy squall was indeedbearing down on us. It had hitherto escaped my notice, owing to mybeing so much engrossed by our conversation. I instantly did as Billdesired, for the schooner was lying motionless on the glassy sea. Iobserved with some satisfaction that the squall was bearing down on thelarboard bow, so that it would strike the vessel in the position inwhich she would be best able to stand the shock. Having done my best toshorten sail, I returned aft, and took my stand at the helm.
"Now, boy," said Bill in a faint voice, "keep her close to the wind."
A few seconds afterwards he said, "Ralph, let me hear those two textsagain."
I repeated them.
"Are ye sure, lad, ye saw them in the Bible?"
"Quite sure," I replied.
Almost before the words had left my lips the wind burst upon us, and thespray dashed over our decks. For a time the schooner stood it bravely,and sprang forward against the rising sea like a war-horse. Meanwhileclouds darkened the sky, and the sea began to rise in huge billows.There was still too much sail on the schooner, and as the galeincreased, I feared that the masts would be torn out of her or carriedaway, while the wind whistled and shrieked through the strained rigging.Suddenly the wind shifted a point, a heavy sea struck us on the bow,and the schooner was almost laid on her beam-ends, so that I couldscarcely keep my legs. At the same moment Bill lost his hold of thebelaying-pin which had served to steady him, and he slid with stunningviolence against the skylight. As he lay on the deck close beside me, Icould see that the shock had rendered him insensible; but I did not dareto quit the tiller for an instant, as it required all my faculties,bodily and mental, to manage the schooner. For an hour the blast droveus along, while, owing to the sharpness of the vessel's bow and thepress of canvas, she dashed through the waves instead of breasting overthem, thereby drenching the decks with water fore and aft. At the endof that time the squall passed away, and left us rocking on the bosom ofthe agitated sea.
My first care, the instant I could quit the helm, was to raise Bill fromthe deck and place him on the couch. I then ran below for thebrandy-bottle, and rubbed his face and hands with it, and endeavoured topour a little down his throat. But my efforts, although I continuedthem long and assiduously, were of no avail; as I let go the hand whichI had been chafing, it fell heavily on the deck. I laid my hand overhis heart, and sat for some time quite motionless; but there was noflutter there--the pirate was dead!