CHAPTER XII.

  THE CALAMITY ON FRENCH REEF.

  I jumped to the conclusion that the Islander had struck on one of theshoals I had noticed on the chart, and the heavy sea was pounding heron the bottom. It could be only a question of time when she would knocka hole in her bottom and go to pieces. Washburn was wide awake as soonas he heard the gun, and giving him the wheel, I proceeded to examinethe chart.

  According to the dead-reckoning we ought to be a little to thesouthward of French Shoal. While I was satisfying myself in regard toour position, another gun sounded over the troubled sea.

  "That can't be the Islander's gun," said Washburn. "She has nothing onboard but a little yacht gun, and the piece we heard is a six, if not atwelve pounder."

  "I think you are right, Bob. The sound came from the leeward. I have nodoubt it is some vessel in distress; and we must do something for her.Call all hands," I continued, as I took the wheel, and headed theSylvania due west by the compass.

  Though it was not foggy, the air was thick, and I could see nothingahead. We had a very strong wind on our port quarter, and it wasextremely dangerous to approach the reefs from the windward. In amoment all hands were on deck, except Moses Brickland, who was requiredto take the engine whenever all hands were called on an emergency. Idirected Hop Tossford to take the wheel, and keep her due west. I askedthe mate to fire our little yacht gun, in answer to the signals we hadheard. The moment the report sounded through the vessel I heard Mrs.Shepard scream.

  I told the chief engineer to give the steamer about half speed, andhastened into the cabin to satisfy the passengers that nothing hadhappened to us, and explain what we were doing. Mrs. Shepard assured usthat we should all be lost; but I told her we would be extremelycareful.

  I asked my father, Colonel Shepard, and Owen to come on deck, leavingMr. Tiffany and Gus Shepard to take charge of the ladies. I explainedthe situation to them, and while we were talking about it another gunwas heard to leeward. It sounded heavier and nearer than before, and Iwas sure the signal was not given by the Islander.

  "It is plain enough that a vessel has gone ashore on one of thesereefs," I said. "I can see nothing ahead, but the gun sounds in thisdirection."

  Before the words were fairly out of my mouth, a sky rocket flashed updirectly over our bow. We had rockets on board, and I directed Ben todischarge one of them. It was followed by another from the vessel indistress. Then some Bengola lights were fired, and they illuminated thesea for a mile at least around her. Buck Lingley was sounding, andreporting no bottom. I told the engineer to give her more steam, for Ifeared the people on the unfortunate vessel might be drowning, and aminute might save a life, if not more. As long as the bright Bengolalight burned, I kept the steamer going at full speed. Most of thedangerous reefs were marked by beacons, or at least the outer range ofthe reef was so marked.

  The sea was very heavy, and Buck Lingley still reported no bottom. Heused a hand lead, which measures twenty fathoms of depth. The Bengolalight soon burned out, and I rang the speed-bell. This reduced our rateone half. But it seemed to me that we were going altogether too fast,as the strong south-east gale was driving us towards the reefs. I rangthe gong, and the vessel stopped.

  "And a half seventeen!" shouted Buck.

  "The water is shoaling," said the mate.

  "By the mark ten!" called the leadsman.

  "Get out some rockets and Bengola lights, Washburn," I continued,nervously. "The people on the wreck don't even give us a light to steerby."

  "And a half seven!" shouted the leadsman.

  I rang to back her, for she shoaled too rapidly for my nerves. I toldthe mate to light a Bengola on the heel of the bowsprit. When he did sothe brilliant light enabled me to see the wreck very distinctly, andless than a hundred yards from the Sylvania. She was a large bark, withall her sails furled. Her captain had probably taken in all sail assoon as the vessel struck the reef.

  The chart informed me there were rocks only a few feet below thesurface of the water. The wreck was headed to the south-west, but thiscould not have been the direction in which she was sailing when shestruck the reef. On that course she would have got into trouble before.

  "By the deep seven!" said the leadsman, in loud and shrill tones.

  I rang to go ahead again, and at the same time told the mate to keepthe Bengola lights burning. Ben Bowman was stationed at the end of thebowsprit that the light might not blind his eyes. I had purchased aplentiful supply of fireworks in New York for festive occasions, and wewere in no danger of exhausting them, as they had evidently done on thewreck.

  "Give her about ten turns a minute, Moses!" I called to the engineerthrough the speaking-tube.

  "Ten turns a minute!" he replied, to make sure that I had beenunderstood.

  "Steady, as she is, Hop!" I said to the wheel-man. "If you see anythinglike a buoy, stop and back her as quick as you can."

  "Ay, ay, sir," replied the wheelman.

  I went on the hurricane-deck to get a better view of the wreck. It washard to stand up in that part of the vessel, for she pitched and rolledvery badly, while she was making so little headway. By holding on atthe railing, I got to a point where I could hug the foremast. The wreckwas very low down, and I concluded that she was full of water.

  "And a half six!" said Buck.

  This was thirty-nine feet of water, and we were in no danger yet. Thewaves were beating over the deck of the bark. It was clear enough thatshe must go to pieces before morning. Her bulwarks were stove on theweather side of her; and while I was looking at her the foremast wentby the board. I saw that the step of the mast must have been torn awayby grinding upon the rocks.

  We were within a hundred feet of her stern, and the billows were toosavage to permit of going any nearer. I hastened down to thepilothouse, rang to stop her, and then to back her. I intended to besure that we had full control of the steamer before we went any nearer.I found that the Sylvania backed well against the head sea, and then Istopped her screw.

  In an instant I found that the steamer was driving towards the wreck. Irang to back her again, and readily checked her.

  I saw that the only way I could approach the unfortunate vessel was toget under her lee. The sea was altogether too rough for our littlequarter boats, though both of them were life-boats. By occasionallybacking the screw, we ran within fifty feet of the wreck, and I couldhear the roar of the gale through the standing rigging of the bark, andthe heavy pounding of the billows against her side.

  "Steamer ahoy!" shouted a man on the taffrail of the vessel.

  "On board the bark!" replied Washburn, on the topgallant forecastle."What is the condition of the vessel?"

  "Our forefoot is gone, and we are stove through forward. She is full ofwater," replied the man. "She is grinding on the reef, and will go topieces in a few hours."

  "How much water have you under your lee?" I shouted.

  "From one to three fathoms," replied the captain of the bark, as wejudged that he was.

  With the utmost care I ran the Sylvania under the lee of the bark; andI think it must have taken all the tact of Moses Brickland to handlethe engine in accordance with the bells I rang. But as soon as the bowof the steamer was under the lee of the bark it was in comparativelysmooth water. From the statement of the captain, and the depth of waterhe reported, I concluded that one of the sharp spurs of rock wassticking through her bottom near where her forefoot had been, and thatshe was held in this position by the reef. Buck kept on sounding, andreported four fathoms at the stern of the wreck. Cobbington was now incharge of the Bengolas, and Washburn was getting the hawsers ready tomake fast to the bark. We put out our fenders, and the mate heaved aline into the waist of the wreck. Ben Bowman did the same, throwing hisline over the stern. The lines were caught by the seamen on board, andmade fast.

  Though the water was fairly still at the leeward of the bark, I foundthat the vessel was rolling badly, and greatly endangering the safetyof the Sylvania. The gale was driving the wreck
farther on the reef,and I feared that the mainmast would go by the board and fall on thesteamer.

  "All aboard that are going!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, as Istood at the wheel, ready to do whatever an emergency might require.The two vessels were grinding their sides together, and nothing but ourfenders saved our planks from being torn off.

  The men on board the bark were very slow in seeking safety, and I wasabout to repeat my former call, when I saw two women appear on the railby the mizzen rigging. Our hands hastened to their assistance, and asthe bark was so low in the water they had no difficulty in getting themon our hurricane-deck. As soon as they were safely on board, the menpoured in upon us without further delay. There was not one among themthat would leave the wreck until the women were safe. The officers andseamen brought with them whatever they could carry of their personalproperty. One of them returned and cast off the hawsers.

  As soon as the fasts were cast off, I rang to back her; and, bringingthe Sylvania's head up to the wind, I wore her gradually around tillshe was headed to the eastward. The sea was white with foam from theraging billows, and the little steamer leaped like an antelope as shewent ahead on her course. It was impossible to stand up in any part ofher. I ran out about four miles to the eastward, where the steamer waswhen we heard the signal-gun from the wreck. We had been absent on ourrun to the reef about two hours. We laid our course as before, and Igave the wheel to Hop Tossford, that I might attend to the wants of theshipwrecked guests on board.

  The Sylvania was rolling on her new course at a frightful rate, and ourdeck was deluged with water every moment. The gale seemed to beincreasing rather than diminishing, and I was not sure how long wecould stand such a tumbling about as we were getting. With no littledifficulty and exertion we got a reefed foresail up, which steadied hervery much. I went down into the cabin, where I had sent the ladies fromthe wreck. I found our passengers propped up in such ways as they coulddevise to keep from being hurled across the cabin floor at each roll ofthe vessel. The strangers seemed to be quite at home, and were relatingtheir adventures to the other ladies, who were listening with so muchinterest that they appeared to have forgotten the Sylvania was laboringin a very heavy sea. I saw that I was not wanted there. I went on deck,and found that the sailors from the wreck were stowed away in thedryest places they could find.

  I invited them all down into the forward cabin, and assigned the mateto the spare berth there. The others must sleep on the floor, for wecould do nothing better for them.

  "Mr. Mate, where is your captain?" I asked.

  "I don't think he came below, sir. He is feeling very badly about theloss of his vessel," replied the mate. "I will try to find him."

  He went on deck with me, and we found him coiled away under thetopgallant forecastle. I invited him to come into the pilot-house, andhe followed me thither.

  "I am sorry for your misfortune, Captain," I said, when he had seatedhimself abaft the wheel.

  "It is a sorry night for me. My vessel is lost, and I have not theleast idea how it happened," he replied, very sadly.

  I did my best to comfort him. I saw that he was quite as much exhaustedby his mental sufferings as by his physical exertions. I conducted himto my state-room, and gave him my berth. In a short time he was asleep.