Ben Burton: Born and Bred at Sea

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  Mr Noalles, as I will still call him, spoke with difficulty, but somesecret impulse, it seemed, made him anxious to disburden his mind. "Imake these confessions to you, Burton," he said, "because I want you toconvey to my poor wife, should you ever return to England, theexpression of my sorrow for the way I treated her; and if you can by anymeans discover my daughter, that you may tell her, her miserable fatherdied blessing her; though, alas! I feel that blessings proceeding fromsuch lips as mine may turn to curses. But I did not tell you thatmercifully she escaped the dreadful fate to which I devoted her. Amongthe passengers on board the ship in which we went out to India was ayoung writer. He was pleasing in his manners, but far more retiring andsilent than his companions, and I did not for a moment suppose that hewas likely to win the affections of my daughter. He had already been inIndia some years, and was returning after a short absence. He thereforeknew the country, and immediately on landing proceeded to his station.I flattered myself that I had got rid of him, for latterly I hadobserved that my daughter was more pleased with his society than withthat of anybody else on board. We remained some time at Calcutta,where, as I expected, my daughter was greatly admired. I, meantime, wasperfecting myself in Hindostanee, and gaining information to guide myfurther proceedings. At length we got off up the country, but on theway I was taken seriously ill. It happened to be at the very stationwhere Mr Bramston was residing. He heard of my being there andinstantly called, and very naturally pressed his suit with my daughter.Believing that I was dying, I consented to his becoming her lawfulprotector, for otherwise I dreaded lest she should be left in thecountry alone and destitute. Scarcely, however, had the marriage takenplace than I recovered, and all the plans I had designed were brought tonothing. I found that my character was suspected, and hastening back toCalcutta, I took a passage on board a ship bound for Canton, againchanging my name to that by which you know me. From that time forward Ihave knocked about in these seas in various capacities, just able tosupport myself, but ever failing to gain the wealth for which I had beenready at one time to sell my soul. Of the child I had loved so dearly Ihad never heard. If she wrote to me, her letters must have miscarried,and from that day to this I have received no tidings of her. Often andoften I have thought of returning to India, but the dread of beingrecognised has deterred me, and I felt that my appearance would morelikely produce shame and annoyance than afford her any satisfaction orpleasure. Thus all my plans and schemings have come to an end, and suchfruits as they have produced have been bitter indeed; I cannot talkmore, Burton. Promise me that you will try to find out my daughter andher husband. Bramston, remember, Charles Bramston of the CivilService--the Bengal Presidency, and his wife bore the name of EmilyHerbert. Herbert was the name I then assumed. She often asked mequestions about her childhood, but I invariably led her off the subject,so that of that she knew nothing. Tell her that you saw her father die,and that his last thoughts were of her."

  I entreated the unfortunate man to keep up his spirits. I pointed outthat we were approaching the shore, and that before many hours hadpassed we should probably land on it; when, although the Dutch were ourenemies, our forlorn condition would assuredly excite their compassion,and induce them to afford us all the relief we could require. "Do nottrust too much to them," he answered slowly. "Besides, the natives onthis coast are savage fellows, who would scruple very little to put usall to death, and as to getting on shore at all, you will not be therefor many hours, depend on that!"

  He ceased; appearing very much exhausted from having spoken so long.His sufferings, indeed, also, had become very intense, for the saltwater and the heat of the sun had greatly inflamed his legs, which hadbeen severely burnt. His voice, in a short time, almost failed, but hislips continued to move, and I heard him murmuring, "Water! Water! Oh!Give me but one drop to cool my tongue! Where am I? Is this hell begunalready? Water! Water! Will no one have compassion on a burningwretch?"

  Still, so strong was his constitution, that in spite of his sufferingshe lingered on. Another poor man, apparently not more hurt than he was,in a short time sank under the injuries he had received. The man hadbeen sitting up trying to catch a breath of air, when suddenly heuttered a low groan, and fell back on the platform.

  "The poor fellow is dead, I am afraid," said Esse, taking up his hand,which fell helpless to the position from which it had been raised. "Canwe do anything to restore him?"

  "There is no use," said Pember, putting his hand on the man's mouth, "hewill never speak again. The sooner we heave him overboard the better."

  He was the first of our number we had to launch into the deep. The bodyfloated astern for some time, and we could scarcely help casting uneasyglances at it. "Oh! Look! Look! He was alive after all!" exclaimedEsse. We turned round. The body seemed to rise half out of the water,the arms waving wildly. Then down it sank and disappeared from view.We also expected to hear a shriek proceed from it. "Oh, Pember!" Iexclaimed, "why did you let us throw him overboard? What a dreadfulthing!"

  "Save your sympathy for those who want it, youngster," answered the oldmate. "He was as dead as a door nail. Don't fear that. Jack Shark hadgot hold of his heels, and that made the body rise suddenly out of thewater, as you saw him. Well! It will be the lot of more of us beforelong. I do not like the look of the weather. I wonder what Mr Noallesthinks of it." Noalles, however, was unable to speak. The wind wasincreasing, and the sea had already got up considerably, making the raftwork in a very unsatisfactory manner. We had the greatest difficulty inholding on, while the smaller pieces of timber, which had been lesssecurely lashed to the frame-work, began to part. Still we ran towardsthe island, our sail helping us considerably. As the sea increased,steering became more difficult, while the lower part of the raft was socompletely immersed in the water, that we had the greatest difficulty inpreventing ourselves being washed off, when the foaming seas camerolling over it. We held on as best we could, by the beckets, which hadbeen secured to the raft for this purpose. We had all now reason todread that we should lose our own lives; for though the raft appeared tobe still approaching the shore, yet so furiously was it tumbled about bythe fast rising seas, that we could with difficulty cling on to it,while we could scarcely hope that it would hold together. Noalles, as Ihave said, had been with Pember and two other men on the platform. Afoam-covered sea came roaring towards us. We all held on to the mainpart of the raft. The sea struck it, and before we could make anyeffort to secure it, away it was carried, to a considerable distancefrom us, with our three shipmates still resting on it. It seemedsurprising that they should not have been washed off. The same seacarried off one of our number, thus leaving six of us only clinging tothe main part of the raft. At the same moment our mast and sail werecarried away, and we were left at the mercy of the seas. In vain weendeavoured with the paddles, which we had saved, to get up to the otherraft. It appeared to be receding further and further from us, whenanother sea, similar in size to that which had torn it from the mainpart, struck it with full force, and hid it from our view. We lookedagain. The few fragments of the wreck could alone be seen; but our latecompanions had sunk beneath the surface of the troubled waters, whichnow leaped, and foamed, and raged above their heads. We had little timeto mourn their fate, for we were compelled to look after our own safety.Night was coming on. A dreary prospect was before us. Still Pat Bradykept up his spirits wonderfully. "Sure, Mr Burton, old Mother Macroneof Ballynahinch was after prophesying you would become an admiral one ofthese days, and sure if we was drownded, we should not live to see it,nor you neither for that matter; and so sure as Mistress Macrone is anhonest woman, and spoke the truth, we need not be after throublingourselves about not getting to land. It will be some time before we canmanage to reach it, however." I cannot say that Paddy's remarks hadmuch effect on us, although I fully believe he spoke what he thought tobe the truth. We were still a long way from the land, when darknesssettled down upon
us, and the shattered raft continued tossing up anddown on the foaming seas. Every instant we thought would be our last,for we knew that the spars to which we were clinging might be torn fromthe frame-work, and we might be deprived of our last remaining support.Still, life was sweet to all of us. We who had escaped were the leastinjured of the party. Twelve had left the wreck, six now alone remainedalive, two only of the crew of the ill-fated frigate--Smith, anEnglishman, and Sandy McPherson, from the North of the Tweed. They wereboth brave, determined fellows, but Sandy's spirit was troubled, not somuch, apparently, by the fearful position in which we were placed, as bywhat he called Pat Brady's recklessness and frivolity. Even when thusclinging to our frail raft, now tossed high up on a foaming sea, nowsent gliding down into the bottom of the trough with darkness around us,almost starved, and our throats parched by thirst, Brady's love of ajoke would still break forth. "Arrah, but it's illegant dancing we'relearning out here!" he exclaimed, "though, faith, I would rather it wereon the green turf than footing it on the top of the green waves, but wewill be safe on shore before many hours are over."

  "Ay, laddie, but it's ill dancing o'er the graves of your friends,"observed Sandy. "Just think where they are, and where we may be not tenminutes hence. You will not keep the breath in your body half that timeunder the salt water, and we may, one and all of us, be fathoms deepbefore five minutes have passed away."

  Sandy spoke what we all knew to be the truth, but still we would ratherhave shut our eyes to the unpleasant fact. It is extraordinary that menshould be able to disregard the future, even when on the very brink ofthe grave. Is it apathy, or stolid indifference, or disbelief in afuture existence that enables them to do so? I speak of those withoutthe Christian's hope--men who lead profligate lives; men stained with athousand crimes; men who have never feared God, who seemed scarcely tohave a knowledge of God. I have thought the matter over, and have cometo the conclusion that some men have the power of shutting out thought.They dare not let thought intrude for a moment. They struggledesperately against thought. Sometimes thought conquers, and thenfearful is their condition. Then the terrors of hell rise up, and theywould give ten thousand worlds to escape the doom they know well theyhave merited. Even now I do not like to think of that night. Slowlythe hours dragged on. We fancied as we rose to the top of the sea, thatthe wind was blowing with even greater force than before, and our frailraft was dashed here and there, with even greater violence than it hadyet endured. We felt it breaking up. With a desperate grip we held onto the larger portions of the timber which composed it. At length itparted, and Kiddle and I were left clinging to one part, while our fourcompanions held on to the other. We could scarcely hope finally toescape. The two portions, however, continued floating within hailingdistance of each other. We shouted to our friends to hold on. PatBrady answered with a cheerful "Ay! Ay!" It cheered our spiritssomewhat, though not very greatly, it must be owned. From that momentthe sea appeared to be going down, and gradually daylight, which wethought had been much further off, stole over the world of waters.Fortunately there were some thin boards still secured to the portion ofthe raft which supported Kiddle and me. We agreed to tear them up, andwith them to paddle towards our friends.

  After a considerable amount of labour we reached them, and immediatelyset to work, as the sea had again become almost smooth, to repair ourraft. So thirsty had we become by this time, that it was withdifficulty we could avoid drinking the salt water. We counselled eachother, however, not to do so, well knowing the ill effects which wouldbe produced. We felt now the loss of our sail, for the wind was settingdirectly on shore. Still, slight as was the breeze, it assisted usalong, when we stood up, which we did by turns, while the rest labouredwith the paddles we had constructed. We gazed anxiously at the land,but the current still appeared to be sweeping towards the south.Suddenly it changed, and we advanced with far more rapidity than we hadhitherto done. We could now distinguish objects on the shore. Welooked out eagerly. No houses or huts were to be seen, nor any vesselsat anchor. A heavy surf, however, was setting on the beach, and Kiddleurged us on no account to attempt to land there. This was tantalising,but the danger of having our raft upset and being carried out to sea wastoo great to be encountered. With might and main, therefore, wecontinued to paddle along the shore, hoping to find some place intowhich we might stand with less danger. We had to continue for somedistance, till at length we got round a point by which the land on theother side was completely sheltered. We could scarcely hope to find abetter place. And now, exerting ourselves to the utmost, we madetowards the beach. With thankfulness did we hear the timbers grateagainst the sand. Esse and Brady, who were nearest the shore, attemptedto spring on to the beach, but so weak were they, as we all were, thatin doing so they fell flat on their faces. Had we not kept the raft offwith our paddles, the next sea which came up would have thrown it overthem. By great exertions they worked themselves up, however, out of thereach of the water, and the rest of us crawled on shore with morecaution. We looked round. No one was to be seen. Our first impulsewas to throw ourselves down on the sand and rest, but scarcely had wedone so when the sensation of thirst came over us, and weak as we werewe set out at once to search for water. The trees came down very nearlyto the shore, here and there rocks appearing among them. We soonseparated, each one going in the direction in which he hoped he shouldfind the longed-for fluid. I went forward almost as in a dream. My eyeat length caught sight of a rock at a little distance. I had a feelingthat water would be found not far off. A sound struck my ear--a low,soft, trickling. Yes! It was water, I was sure of it--I almost fell inmy eagerness to hurry on. I cannot easily forget the delight with whichmy eye rested on a natural fountain--a rocky basin, into which a brightstream flowed from a crevice in the rock. I rushed on shouting out"Water! Water!" Eagerly I put my mouth to the pure fountain-head. Oh!How deliciously sweet I found it! I let it run over my face, parchedand cracked by the hot sun and salt water. Brady, who was nearest tome, heard me shout. "Hurrah, lads! Hurrah, lads! Here's water!" hecried out, making a few attempts at leaps, as he rushed forward. Theothers took up the cry, till the whole six of us were putting our mouthsto the fountain, for scarcely had I withdrawn mine than I returned againfor a fresh draught, the others doing the same thing. It is surprisingthat we did ourselves no harm by the quantity we swallowed. Bradydeclared that he heard it fizzing away as it went down his throat, fromthe heat of his inside.