The Nameless Island: A Story of Some Modern Robinson Crusoes
CHAPTER II
AGROUND
For a brief instant Ellerton hesitated; ought he to return to hisfriends or make his way for'ard? The _San Martin_, losing steerageway, was rolling horribly in the trough of the sea; any instant shemight turn turtle.
There was a rush of terrified firemen from the grim inferno of thestokeholds; the engineers, having taken necessary precautions againstan explosion of the boilers, hastened to follow their example,scrambling in a struggling mass between the narrow opening of thepartially closed hatchway.
Clearly Ellerton had no means of gaining the deck in the rear of thathuman press; so lurching and staggering along the alley-way he made hisway aft, where he met Mr. McKay, who, assisted by Andy, was about to goon deck. Terence, looking a picture of utter misery in the yellowlight of the saloon, and Quexo, his olive skin ashy grey with fear, hadalready joined the others.
"Come on, Hoppy," shouted Andy cheerfully. "Give me a hand with thegovernor. Terence, you had better stay here."
Carefully watching their chance, the two lads managed to help Mr. McKayto the shelter of the poop deck-house, and they were about to returnfor Donaghue and the mulatto when they encountered Captain Perez andthe first mate. Both were in a state bordering on frenzy, the captainrolling his eyes and calling for the protection of a thousand saints,while the mate was mumbling mechanically the last compass course, "Suroeste, cuarto oeste" (S.W. by W.).
The cowardly officers had deserted their posts!
In an instant Fanshaw Ellerton saw his chance--and took it.
"Stop him, Andy!" he shouted, setting the example by throwing himselfupon the Peruvian skipper.
The man did not resist; he seemed incapable of doing anything.
"Don't bother about the other," hissed the apprentice. "Make this chapcome with us to the bridge. I'll be the skipper and he'll be thefigurehead."
The two chums dragged the captain across the heaving deck, up theswaying monkey-ladder, and gained the lofty bridge.
Ellerton glanced to windward. His seamanship, poor though it was,began to assert itself. The wind was going down slightly, but, veeringto the nor'ard, was causing a horrible jumble of cross-seas--not solofty as the mountainous waves a few hours ago, but infinitely moretrying.
The _San Martin_, swept on bow, quarter, and broadside, rolled andpitched, the white cascades pouring from her storm-washed decks; yetEllerton realised that she possessed a considerable amount of buoyancyby the way she shook herself clear of the tons of water that pouredacross her.
The wheel was deserted. The steersman, finding that his officers hadfled and that the vessel carried no way, had followed his superior'sexample.
Cowering under the lee of the funnel casing were about twelve of thecrew, including the bo'sun and quartermaster.
"Tell the captain," yelled Ellerton to his chum, "to order those men toset the storm staysail, if they value their hides."
Andy interpreted the order, which the captain, gaining a faintsuspicion of confidence, communicated to the bo'sun.
The bare chance of saving their lives urged the men into action.Unharmed, they succeeded in gaining the fo'c'sle, and in less than tenminutes the stiff canvas was straining on the forestay.
Gathering way, the _San Martin_, no longer rolling, pounded sluggishlythrough the foam-flecked sea.
Ellerton would not risk setting any canvas aft; he was content to letthe vessel drive.
"Ask him whether we have plenty of sea room--whether there is anydanger of running ashore during the next hour or so?"
Andy put the question.
"No, senor; there is plenty of sea room."
That was enough. The apprentice cared not what course he steered, solong as he kept the waves well on the quarter. When the hurricane wasover they could carry on till they fell in with some passing vessel andgot a tow into port.
"That's right. Tell him to take his watch below," continued theapprentice. "And you might get hold of some oilskins, Andy."
Obediently the skipper left the bridge, and, steeling himself for along trick at the helm, Ellerton grasped the spokes of the wheel withfirm hands.
At length the day broke, and with it a regular deluge of rain, pouringfrom an unbroken mass of scudding, deep blue clouds. The rain beatdown the vicious crests, but the sea still ran "mountains high."
About noon Mr. McKay expressed his intention of joining Ellerton on thebridge, and assisted by his son he left the shelter of the poop.
From the foot of the poop-ladder to that of the bridge a life-line hadbeen rigged to give the protection that the shattered bulwarks nolonger afforded.
When midway between the two ladders, a roll of the vessel caused Mr.McKay to lurch heavily towards the rope. His wounded limb provedunequal to the strain, and falling heavily upon the main rope hisweight broke the lashings that held it to the ring-bolt. Before Andycould save him, Mr. McKay had crashed against the main hatchway.
"Hurt?" asked Andy anxiously.
"I'm afraid so," replied his father, manfully suppressing a groan. "Myleg is broken."
By dint of considerable exertion the sufferer was taken back to thesaloon, and the ship's surgeon, who had been routed out of his cabin,pronounced the injury to be a double fracture.
Ellerton, his whole attention fixed upon keeping the vessel on hercourse, had neither observed nor heard the noise of the accident, andgreat was his concern when Andy mounted the bridge and informed him ofthe catastrophe.
"I think I can leave the command," he remarked. "No doubt thatyellow-skinned johnny has recovered his nerve by now."
Five minutes later Captain Antonio Perez gained the bridge. He hadlost his suave, self-confident manner, and his general appearanceshowed a change for the better in his moral and physical condition.Yet, without a word of thanks to the English lad who had saved thesituation, he called up two of the seamen, and placed them at the wheel.
"He might have been a bit civil over the business," remarked Andy.
"Poor brute! I dare say he feels his position pretty acutely. I onlyhope he won't break down in a hurry," replied Ellerton.
For the next two days the _San Martin_ fled before the storm, thetrysail keeping her steady and checking any tendency to broach-to. Thewind had increased to almost its former violence on the evening of thefirst day, but the vessel was then close on the outer edge of thestorm-path.
Mr. McKay, who was suffering considerably, bore his injuries gamely,while Terence, who had recovered from his bout of sea-sickness, beganto take a new interest in life. Quexo, however, still lay on the floorof the stateroom, refusing to eat or drink, and groaning dismally atintervals.
"I reckon he's sorry he followed the Americanos across the wide riverthat tastes of salt," said Terence, quoting the Nicaraguan way ofspeaking of the sea. "Even I can feel sorry for him."
"That's a good sign," remarked Andy. "Yesterday you hadn't the pluckto feel sorry for yourself."
On the morning of the fourth day of the storm the wind piped downconsiderably, and the Peruvian captain ordered the fore and aft canvasto be set. The engine-room staff also began to take steps to attemptthe temporary repairing of the shafting, and had already removed aconsiderable portion of the plating of the tunnel.
As yet the sky was completely overcast. At noon the officers, sextantin hand, waited in vain for an opportunity of "shooting the sun."Where the ship was, no one on board knew, though it was agreed that shewas driven several miles to the south'ard of her proper course.
The weather began to improve as night drew on. The setting sun wasjust visible in a patch of purple sky, showing that fine weather mightbe expected from that quarter. The glass, too, was rising; notrapidly, but gradually and surely.
"Now for a good night's rest," exclaimed Andy, for throughout the galethe lads had turned in "all standing."
But Andy was doomed to be disappointed, for at four bells in the middlewatch (2 a.m.) a sudden crash roused the sleepers from their berths.The _San Martin_ w
as hard and fast aground.