Charley Laurel: A Story of Adventure by Sea and Land

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  OVERBOARD.

  We had been some weeks at sea. Captain Slack showed his evildisposition by throwing every impediment in the way of Mr Newton whenhe attempted to hold a service on board. He could not, however, preventhim from having prayers in his own cabin, to which I and Dick, and thosewho were willing to come, were invited. Among them was a half-castelad, called Bill Gennill, of a not over-prepossessing countenance, towhom I had spoken. While others scoffed, he listened, and had before wereached Sydney gladly accepted the truth. This exposed him to thesneers, and often to the ill-treatment, of his messmates, though Dickand I did our best to protect him. He expressed his gratitude, and,opposing gentleness to brutality, showed every day more and moreearnestness. Mr Newton encouraged him to persevere. Miss Kitty oftenspoke kindly to him, and frequently brought up her Bible, and read suchportions as he could best understand.

  "I think that Bill understands the fundamental truths of the gospel,"she said to me: "that being all sinners by nature, and outcasts fromGod, and become again His dear children by simple faith in the gloriousfact that Christ died, and was punished instead of us, and that our debtto God being thus paid, our sins are blotted out of His remembrance, andthat we being clothed with the righteousness of Christ, we can approachboldly the throne of grace, and are made heirs with Him of that kingdomwhich He has gone before to prepare for us. He knows, too, that, beingpossessed of these privileges, we are called on by the aid of the HolySpirit to try and imitate Christ, to live pure and blameless lives, tomake His name known to others, and do all the good we can to ourfellow-creatures, especially to those of the household of faith. I amthankful to find, Charley, that you, too, know these truths, and are notashamed of Christ."

  "I have not understood them many months, though I ought to have knownthem long ago," I answered. "Now that I do know them, I feel thatnothing is so disgraceful to a Christian as to be ashamed of confessingthe Master he serves, and therefore it is that Satan is alwaysendeavouring to make us conceal our belief in the presence of ourfellow-men. I feel how necessary it is to pray for grace for those whodo not really acknowledge Christ, although they would be very angry iftold that they were not Christians."

  "I found that to be the case in Sydney," said Miss Kitty, "althoughduring the time I spent with Mr and Mrs Newton it was a difficulty Idid not experience. The poor heathens among whom I lived were sincere;they had discovered the worthlessness of their own idols, and felt theirsinfulness, and, consequently, heard with joy the simple plan ofsalvation which God in His mercy has prepared for man. In Sydney, Ifound people so well satisfied with their forms and ceremonies, theirattendance at their churches and chapels, and their almsgiving and moralconduct, that they stared when I spoke of the love of Jesus, whichbrought Him down from heaven to suffer for man, and of the utterinability of man to save himself; they apparently believing that theythemselves were doing the work which was to merit salvation, making thesacrifice of Christ of no effect. This, it appears to me, is the beliefof a large number of nominal Christians, while a still larger numberlive on from day to day without giving a thought to the future, orcaring whether they are to pass it in glory, or to be cast out for everfrom the presence of God. I cannot bear to think that those I knowshould be existing in so dangerous a state without trying to make thetruth known to them, and urging them to accept salvation while the dayof grace lasts."

  I mention this conversation, because it so exactly describes my ownfeelings, and the state of the greater number of people I have sincemet.

  "How earnestly I pray that my dear father may have accepted the truth,"continued Miss Kitty. "I had almost despaired of again seeing him, whena sailor, who had been wrecked in the Pacific, made his way to ourisland. While conversing with the poor man, who was dying, he told methat he had been on board an outward-bound ship which had picked up anEnglish officer, who had made his escape from a French prison; and I wascertain, from the name and from the description he gave me, that theofficer must have been my father. The ship touched nowhere till she waswrecked on some rocks in the Southern Ocean, between the Mauritius andAustralia. My father was among those who escaped. They were rescued bya South Sea whaler, which my informant quitted to join another ship,leaving him on board. Where my father was going to he could not tell,but concluded that he intended returning home. Even should he have doneso, he would have been unable to hear of me, and this makes me anxiousin the extreme to return home, to try and find him out."

  I sympathised with Miss Kitty when she gave me this account, and toldher how glad I should be to assist her in the search.

  Some days after this, one of those furious gales which occasionally blowover the usually calm waters of the Pacific came on, and we unexpectedlymade an island not marked in the charts, to avoid which our course wasbeing altered, when a squall laid the ship almost on her beam-ends.Throwing off my jacket, that my arms might be perfectly unfettered, Isprang aloft with others yet further to shorten sail, when themain-topmast and the yard on which I hung were carried away. The nextmoment I found myself struggling amid the foaming waters. The ship flewon. To heave-to or lower a boat I knew was impossible. I gave myselfup for lost: still I struck out with the instinct of self-preservation.The seas dancing wildly around circumscribed my view, and I could onlyjust see the masts of the ship as she receded from me. Several otherpoor fellows I knew had been hove into the sea off the yard with me.Though dressed only in a light shirt and trousers, I was nearlyexhausted. Had I retained my jacket, I believe that I should have beenunable to keep myself afloat. Just then a shout reached my ears, and Isaw Bill seated astride a piece of timber, not far from me. With myremaining strength I made towards it, and he, seizing me by the shirt,hauled me up, and made me fast with some rope attached to the spar.

  "Glad to find you, Charley," he said. "I saw the timber, when I thoughtthere was no hope, and got on to it. Now we must trust that the shipwill come back to pick us up, or that the wind will drive us to theshore, otherwise we shall be badly off."

  I thought so too; but having escaped immediate death so wonderfully, Icould not help hoping that further means would be sent us for preservingour lives.

  "We must trust in God," I answered. "It is a happy thing for you andme, Bill, that we are ready to go into His presence, knowing that Hewill receive us as loved children."

  "Ah, yes, Master Charley, that's what I have been thinking," said Bill."I knew you were on the yard, and the moment I was in the water I prayedthat He would save you as well as me, and you see He has done so."

  We, however, could talk but little; indeed, what we said was uttered indisjointed sentences; for the foaming sea kept tossing the log on whichwe sat up and down, so that we could with difficulty hold on to it. Thesea-birds kept wildly screaming over our heads, while nothing could beseen around us but the foaming, troubled waters. In vain we looked outfor the ship. Evening was coming on, and the gloom increased. Had itnot been for the rope, we could not have maintained our hold of the log.Each time after a sea had swept over us I looked up, hoping to discoverthe ship, but she was nowhere visible, and even had she been near, theincreased darkness would have shut her out from our sight.

  Hour after hour passed by, and, faint and exhausted, I felt that I couldnot hold on much longer. Poor Bill seemed in even a worse condition. Icould hear his voice every now and then, amid the roaring of the waters,uttering a prayer, and I joined him in my heart. At last I fell into astate of almost insensibility, and I knew not how the hours went by.Again I aroused myself, and it seemed to me that the night must havewell-nigh passed by. At length the roaring sound of the watersincreased: it was that of a heavy surf breaking on the shore. Daylightappeared. As the log rose to the summit of the sea, I caught sight of arocky coast close at hand. In a few minutes more the log might be caston it, but the danger we ran was greater than ever, for if turned overand over by the surf, we might be crushed beneath it. I cast off thelashings which bound me, holding on ins
tead tightly to the ropes, andurging Bill to do the same. He did not appear to comprehend me. Istretched out my hand to assist him, and had just succeeded in castingloose the rope which held him, when a foaming sea took me, and I wascarried forward in its embrace towards the shore. What happened to mycompanion I could not see, for I lost all consciousness. Confused bythe roaring and hissing of the waters in my ears, it appeared to me thatI was lifted up and down, and swept backwards and forwards; then I feltmy hands and feet touching the shore. I struggled on. Another sea camehissing up; I dug my hands into the sand ere it passed away. Exhausted,I could exert myself no further. Had another sea overtaken me, it wouldhave carried me helplessly off.

  How long I thus remained I know not, when I felt my head lifted from theground, and opening my eyes, I saw an old man with long hair and beard,and a benignant expression of countenance, bending over me. Taking mein his arms, he carried me some way from the water, and then againplaced me on the ground, unable to proceed farther.

  "How came you here, lad?" he asked, when he saw that I had sufficientlyrecovered to speak. "Has your ship been cast away?"

  I told him how I had been carried overboard, and inquired whether mycompanion had been saved.

  "I have seen no one," he said. "Indeed, I only just now came down tothe spot to bathe, as it is one of the few places on the shore free fromrocks; but I will search for him as soon as you are more recovered."

  I begged him to go at once, assuring him that I already felt better.

  "I must give you some food first," he said, hurrying away. He broughtsome fish and yams, which much restored my strength; but when I tried toget up and accompany him, I was unable to walk.

  He went off with a long pole and a rope in his hand, telling me that Imight rest without anxiety, as there were neither savages nor wildbeasts in the island to injure me.

  The warm sun soon dried my clothes, and, creeping under the shade of arock, I fell asleep. I was awoke by hearing voices, and to my greatjoy, on looking up, I saw the old man, accompanied by Bill, who told methat he had clung to the timber, which had been drifted some way alongthe shore into a sheltered bay, where it had grounded. Thence he hadscrambled over the rocks, and after searching in vain for me, had satdown in deep grief, under the idea that I had been lost.

  Assisted by Bill, the old man led me to his hut, built against the sideof rock at the foot of a high hill. Here he placed before us some morefood.

  "I cannot but welcome you, my lads," he said; "for I have spent threeweary years in solitude since I was wrecked off this island, I being thesole survivor of a whole ship's company. Though I have constantly beenon the look-out since then, not a sail has come near enough to see mysignals--the flag I have hoisted by day, and the beacons I have keptburning at night. When I caught sight of your ship yesterday, I was inhopes that she was approaching; but when the gale came on I knew shecould only do so with great peril, and was thankful when I saw herweather the island."

  I was glad to know from this that the _Phoebe_ had escaped.

  I knew by the tone of voice and manners of the old man that he was agentleman, and, from his expressions, I guessed that he was a navalofficer; but I felt a delicacy in putting questions to him, though I wasanxious to learn who he was.

  "We must not eat the bread of idleness," I said, when the meal was over."Is there no work you would wish us to do?"

  "All you can do now, my lads, is to lie down and rest," he answered,smiling. "When you are recovered, you will have to put up a hut foryourselves, and to cultivate some ground, as perhaps you may have toremain here as long as I have done."

  "We must not go to sleep without thanking God for His great mercy tous," said Bill.

  I felt rebuked. Without hesitation, I knelt down with my companion neara heap of dried grass and matting, which our host had prepared for us.He looked on, slightly astonished, but I heard him utter "Amen" at theend of my prayer.

  Worn out with fatigue, we slept on till nearly daybreak the followingmorning.