CHAPTER SIX.
DISASTER, STARVATION, AND DEATH.
The least observant of mortals must have frequently been impressed withthe fact that events and incidents of an apparently trifling descriptionoften lead to momentous--sometimes tremendous--results.
Soon after the occurrence of the incidents referred to in the lastchapter, a colony of busy workers in the Pacific Ocean were drawingtowards the completion of a building on which they had been engaged fora long time. Like some lighthouses this building had its foundations ona rock at the bottom of the sea. Steadily, perseveringly, and withlittle cessation, the workers had toiled for years. They were smallinsignificant creatures, each being bent on simply performing the littlebit of work which he, she, or it had been created to do probably withoutknowing or caring what the result might be, and then ending his, her, orits modest labours with life. It was when this marine building hadrisen to within eight or ten feet of the surface of the sea that the_Walrus_ chanced to draw near to it, but no one on board was aware ofthe existence of that coral-reef, for up to the period we write of ithad failed to attract the attention of chart-makers.
The vessel was bowling along at a moderate rate over a calm sea, for thelight breeze overhead that failed to ruffle the water filled hertopsails. Had the wind been stormy a line of breakers would haveindicated the dangerous reef. As it was there was nothing to tell thatthe good ship was rushing on her doom till she struck with a violentshock and remained fast.
Of course Captain Stride was equal to the emergency. By the quietdecision with which he went about and gave his orders he calmed thefears of such of his crew as were apt to "lose their heads" in the midstof sudden catastrophe.
"Lower away the boats, lads. We'll get her off right a way," he said,in a quick but quiet tone.
Charlie Brooke, being a strong believer in strict discipline, at onceran to obey the order, accompanied by the most active among the men,while others ran to slack off the sheets and lower the topsails.
In a few minutes nearly all the men were in the boats, with hawsersfixed to the stern of the vessel, doing their uttermost to pull her off.
Charlie had been ordered to remain on deck when the crew took to theboats.
"Come here, Mr Brooke, I want you," said the Captain, leading his youngfriend to the taffrail. "It's pretty clear to me that the poor old_Walrus_ is done for--"
"I sincerely hope not sir," said Charlie, with anxious looks.
"A short time will settle the question," returned the Captain, withunwonted gravity. "If she don't move in a few minutes, I'll try whatheaving out some o' the cargo will do. As supercargo, you know whereit's all stowed, so, if you'll pint out to me which is the leastvalooable, an' at the same time heaviest part of it, I'll send the mateand four men to git it on deck. But to tell you the truth even if we dogit her off I don't think she'll float. She's an oldish craft, not fitto have her bottom rasped on coral rocks. But we'll soon see."
Charlie could not help observing that there was something peculiarly sadin the tone of the old man's voice. Whether it was that the poorcaptain knew the case to be utterly hopeless, or that he was overwhelmedby this calamity coming upon him so soon after the wreck of his lastship, Charlie could not tell, but he had no time to think, for after hehad pointed out to the mate the bales that could be most easily sparedhe was again summoned aft.
"She don't move," said the captain, gloomily. "We must git the boatsready, for if it comes on to blow only a little harder we'll have totake to 'em. So do you and the stooard putt your heads together an' gitup as much provisions as you think the boats will safely carry. Onlynecessaries, of course, an' take plenty o' water. I'll see to it thatcharts, compasses, canvas, and other odds and ends are ready."
Again young Brooke went off, without saying a word, to carry out hisinstructions. Meanwhile one of the boats was recalled, and her crew setto lighten the ship by heaving part of the cargo overboard. Still the_Walrus_ remained immovable on the reef, for the force with which shestruck had sent her high upon it.
"If we have to take to the boats, sir," said Charlie, when he wasdisengaged, "it may be well to put some medicines on board, for poorSamson will--"
"Ay, ay, do so, lad," said the captain, interrupting; "I've beenthinkin' o' that, an' you may as well rig up some sort o' couch for thepoor fellow in the long-boat, for I mean to take him along wi' myself."
"Are you so sure, then, that there is no chance of our getting her off?"
"Quite sure. Look there." He pointed, as he spoke, to the horizon towindward, where a line of cloud rested on the sea. "That'll not be longo' comin' here. It won't blow very hard, but it'll be hard enough tosmash the old _Walrus_ to bits. If you've got any valooables aboardthat you'd rather not lose, you'd better stuff 'em in your pockets now.When things come to the wust mind your helm, an' look out as I used tosay to my missus--"
He stopped abruptly and turned away. Evidently the thought of the"missus" was too much for him just then.
Charlie Brooke hurried off to visit the sick man, and prepare him forthe sad change in his position that had now become unavoidable. Butanother visitor had been to see the invalid before him. Entering theberth softly, and with a quiet look, so as not to agitate the patientneedlessly, he found to his regret, though not surprise, that poor FredSamson was dead. There was a smile on the pale face, which was turnedtowards the port window, as if the dying man had been taking a last lookof the sea and sky when Death laid a hand gently on his brow andsmoothed away the wrinkles of suffering and care. A letter from hismother, held tightly in one hand and pressed upon his breast toldeloquently what was the subject of his last thoughts.
Charlie cut a lock of hair from the sailor's brow with his clasp-knife,and, taking the letter gently from the dead hand, wrapped it therein.
"There's no time to bury him now. His berth must be the poor fellow'scoffin," said Captain Stride, when the death was reported to him. "Theswell o' the coming squall has reached us already. Look alive wi' theboats, men!"
By that time the rising swell was in truth lifting the vessel every fewseconds and letting her down with a soft thud on the coral reef. Itsoon became evident to every one on board that the _Walrus_ had not manyhours to live--perhaps not many minutes--for the squall to which theCaptain had referred was rapidly bearing down, and each successive thudbecame more violent than the previous one. Knowing their danger fullwell, the men worked with a will and in a few minutes three boats, wellprovisioned, were floating on the sea.
The need for haste soon became apparent, for the depth of wateralongside was so insufficient that the long-boat--drawing as she didconsiderably more water than the others--touched twice when the swellslet her drop into their hollows.
It was arranged that Charlie should go in the long-boat with thecaptain, Raywood the passenger, and ten men of the crew. The remainderwere to be divided between the other two boats which were to be incharge of the first and second officers respectively.
"Jump in, Brooke," cried the Captain, as he sat in the stern-sheetslooking up at our hero, who was busily engaged assisting the first mateto complete the arrangements of his boat, "we've struck twice already.I must shove off. Is Raywood ready?"
"He's in the cabin looking for something, sir; I'll run and fetch him."
"Stay! We've touched again!" shouted the Captain. "You an' Raywood cancome off with one o' the other boats. I'll take you on board when indeep water--shove off, lads."
"Jump in with me, sir," said the first mate, as he hastily descended theside.
"Come along, Raywood," shouted Charlie, as he followed. "No time tolose!"
The passenger rushed on deck, scrambled down the side, and took his seatbeside Charlie, just as the long threatened squall burst upon them.
The painter was cut, and they drifted into deep water with the secondmate's boat, which had already cast off.
Fortunate was it for the whole crew that Captain Stride had provided forevery emergency, and that, a
mong other safeguards, he had put severaltarpaulins into each boat, for with these they were enabled to form acovering which turned off the waves and prevented their being swamped.The squall turned out to be a very severe one, and in the midst of itthe three boats were so far separated that the prospect of their beingable to draw together again until evening was very remote. Indeed thewaves soon ran so high that it required the utmost attention of eachsteersman to keep his craft afloat, and when at last the light began tofade the boats were almost out of sight of each other.
"No chance, I fear, of our ever meeting again," remarked the mate, as hecast a wistful look at the southern horizon where the sail of thelong-boat could be barely seen like the wing of a sea-gull. "Your lothas been cast with us, Mr Brooke, so you'll have to make the best ofit."
"I always try to make the best of things," replied Charlie. "My chiefregret at present is that Raywood and I, being two extra hands, willhelp to consume your provisions too fast."
"Luckily my appetite is a poor one," said Raywood, with a faint smile;"and it's not likely to improve in the circumstances."
"I'm not so sure o' that sir," returned the mate, with an air that wasmeant to be reassuring; "fresh air and exposure have effected wondersbefore now in the matter of health--so they say. Another pull on thehalyards, Dick; that looks like a fresh squall. Mind your sheets, WillWard."
A prompt "Ay, ay, sir" from Dick Darvall and the cabin-boy showed thateach was alive to the importance of the duty required of him, while theother men--of whom there were six--busied themselves in making thetarpaulin coverings more secure, or in baling out the water which, inspite of them, had found its way into the boat.
Charlie rose and seated himself on the thwart beside the fine-lookingseaman Dick Darvall, so as to have a clearer view ahead under the sail.
"Long-boat nowhere to be seen now," he murmured half to himself after along look.
"No, sir--nor the other boat either," said Darvall in a quiet voice."We shall never see 'em no more."
"I hope you are wrong," returned Charlie; "indeed I feel sure that theweather will clear during the night, and that we shall find both boatsbecalmed not far off."
"Maybe so, sir," rejoined the sailor, in the tone of one willing to be,but not yet, convinced.
Our hero was right as to the first, but not as to the second, point.The weather did clear during the night, but when the sun arose nextmorning on a comparatively calm sea neither of the other boats was to beseen. In fact every object that could arrest the eye had vanished fromthe scene, leaving only a great circular shield of blue, of which theirtiny craft formed the centre.