With Cochrane the Dauntless

The mainmast had been cut away, and was towed by a long hawser from the stern, thereby aiding to keep the vessel dead before the wind. Stephen felt that there was nothing to be done but to wait for the end. There were no materials for making a raft, and indeed the constant wash of the seas would have rendered the task an almost impossible one, even had there been spars at hand; but a raft, could one have been manufactured, would have prolonged life but for a few hours. They were now, he calculated, fully a thousand miles from the land, and there was no chance whatever of any vessel coming across them in these unfrequented seas. From the time the gale burst upon them he had but twice thrown himself down for a short sleep, and had eaten no food save a dry biscuit or two. The Peruvian captain agreed with him that the vessel would float but a few hours longer. She rose but sluggishly upon the seas, and several times she had plunged her head so deeply into them that Stephen thought that she was going to dive bodily down.

Night fell. He and the captain lay down on two of the sofas aft, while the crew were all in the forecastle. None expected to see the morning light; but Stephen left the door open, saying to the captain:

“It will make no difference; but I should rather make a struggle for my life before I die, than be drowned like a rat in a hole.”

The Peruvian, who had shown much cool courage during the storm, shrugged his shoulders.

“It makes no difference,” he said, as he rolled a cigarette and lighted it; “we have done all that we could. As for me, I would as lief be drowned here as outside. But I don’t think that there will be much choice; we shall have no warning when she goes; she will plunge down head-foremost.”

Stephen was too worn-out to reply, but he felt that what the captain said was true. But even the thought that when he woke it would be but for a short struggle for life was insufficient to keep him awake, and in a minute or two he dropped off to sleep. How long he slept he could not tell; he was awakened suddenly by a tremendous crash that threw him on to the floor. He struggled to his feet and rushed out almost instinctively, in obedience to his train of thought before sleeping. As he issued out of the poop a wave poured down from above, and for a moment he shrunk back. He was conscious that the ship was fast. There was no longer any movement; but the sea struck against the stern with a force that made the vessel quiver. As to going forward it was out of the question, for each wave swept right over her. The Peruvian had joined him at the door.

“Our voyage has ended, señor.”

“Yes, as far as the ship is concerned; but if she holds together until morning there will be a chance of getting ashore.”

As he spoke a great wave struck the vessel. She rose on it, moved a few yards further forward, and then fell again with a crash that threw them both off their feet.

“There is not much chance of that,” the Peruvian said as he rose again, taking up the conversation at the point at which it had been broken; “an hour or two will see the end of her, perhaps even less.”

“It felt to me as if she struck all over,” Stephen said, “and I should think she is on a flat ledge of rock. I don’t think that the wind is blowing as hard as it was when we lay down. There are some stars shining. At any rate we may as well go in again and wait. We should only be swept overboard if we tried to go forward.”

He turned to re-enter the cabin, but was nearly carried off his feet by a torrent of water that swept along the passage.

“That last wave has smashed her stern in,” he said to the Peruvian; “we must stand outside.”

They seated themselves on the deck, with their backs to the poop. The cataract of water which from time to time swept over them from above, fell beyond them and rushed forward.

“Her head is lower than her stern,” the Peruvian remarked. “I begin to think she may hold together until morning; she has not lifted again.”

It seemed, indeed, as if the storm had made its last effort in the great surge that had shifted the vessel forward. For although the waves still struck her with tremendous force, and they could hear an occasional rending and splintering of the timbers astern, she no longer moved, although she quivered from end to end under each blow, and worked as if at any moment she would break into fragments.

“The foremast has gone,” Stephen said presently. “I suppose it went over her bows when she struck. I am afraid none of the men have escaped. I can’t make out the head of the vessel at all.”

“They may have been washed ashore; but it is probable that the fall of the mast imprisoned them,” the captain said; “and as the stern is raised a good many feet, they must have been drowned at once. Poor fellows, there were some good men among them.”

“I wish we had had them all aft,” Steve exclaimed in a tone of deep regret. “Of course, we never thought of this; and indeed there was but small room for them in your little cabin. It seemed that death would come to us all together, and that their chances in the fo’c’s’le were as hopeless as ours in the stern cabin.”

“It is the will of God,” the Peruvian said philosophically; “and it is probable their turn has come only a few hours before ours.”

They sat silently for a long time. At last Stephen said: “The sea is certainly going down, and I can make out the outlines of the land. I think day will soon be breaking. We must have slept a good many hours before she struck.”

He took out his watch, but it was too dark to see the face. He opened the case and felt the position of the hands: “It is half-past three,” he said. “In another half-hour we shall have light enough to see where we are.”

Gradually the dawn spread over the sky, and they could make out that the shore was some three hundred yards away, and that trees came down almost to the water’s edge. They lay at the mouth of a small bay. As the captain had supposed, the ship’s bows were under water, and only a few inches of the top-gallant fo’c’s’le were to be seen. Another half-hour and the sun was up. Long before this Stephen had explored the wreck astern. Several feet had been torn off, and the water flowed freely in and out of the cabin. It was evident that the ship had been carried on the crest of the great wave beyond the highest point of the reef across the mouth of the bay, and to this fact she in some degree owed her preservation, as the waves broke some twenty yards astern of her, and so spent a considerable portion of their force before they struck her. Looking astern, the sea was still extremely heavy, but it no longer presented the angry appearance it had done on the previous day. The wind had almost dropped, the waves were no longer crested with white foam.

“In an hour or two we shall be able to get ashore,” Stephen said. “We have been saved well-nigh by a miracle, captain.”

“Saved so far,” the captain said; “but we cannot say yet what is in store, for us. These islands are, for the most part, inhabited by savage natives, who will make short work of us if we fall into their hands.”

“Well, we must hope for the best,” Stephen said. “We have been preserved so far, and we may trust we shall be preserved through other dangers. As soon as the sea goes down we must haul the foremast alongside, cut away the ropes, and drift ashore on it. It would be no great distance to swim now, but there is no hurry, and we had best find out whether we cannot get hold of some provisions. I see there are some boxes and casks on the shore, I suppose they have been washed out of the stern. One of the first things will be to get some arms.”

“There are several cases of muskets down in the hold,” the captain said, “and a large quantity of ammunition, but it will be a difficult business to get at it.”

“We shall have plenty of time,” Stephen said, “that is, if the natives do not interfere with us. However, the first thing is to find something to eat, for I am half famished.”

“I have no doubt we shall find something in the steward’s cabin,” the captain said. “Fortunately it is the first inside the door, and has not shared the fate of the stern cabin. If Jacopo had slept there last night, instead of going forward with the crew, he would have been saved also.”

They opened the door of the cabin, and uttered an exclamation of surprise as they saw the steward quietly asleep in his bunk.

“Why, Jacopo, you lazy rascal,” the captain shouted, “I have just been mourning for you, and here you are, sleeping as quietly as if you were safe in port.”

The man sat up with an air of bewilderment. “Why, what has happened, captain?” he asked. “The sun is shining, and there is no motion. I did not think to see the morning.”

“Oh, you rascal!” the captain said, pointing to an empty bottle lying in the bunk, “you thought that it was all over, and so you emptied one of my bottles of aguardiente, and have slept like a hog all night.”

“Pardon me, captain,” the man said, with a shamefaced expression; “everyone said that the ship could not live until morning, so I thought I would take a good drink so as to know nothing about it.”

“And you did not feel even the crash when we were wrecked?”

“Wrecked!” the man repeated, as he ran to the door; “are we wrecked after all?” He uttered a cry of horror as he looked round.

“It might have been worse,” the captain said; “at least we three have been saved, though, in your case, you are far from deserving it. Now, look about and do your duty. We want breakfast; see you get it, and quickly, and I will say nothing more about that bottle of spirits you stole. Now, what have you got here?”

“Two fine hams, captain, and some bunches of onions, and half a barrel of flour, and some salt beef and a skin of wine.”

“Not so bad,” the captain said. “Well, make a fire and do us some slices of ham; are there any biscuits left?”

“Yes, captain, there is half a barrel.”

“Then we will make shift with a biscuit and the ham; but see that you are quick about it, for this English officer and I are both famished.”

“Where am I to make a fire, captain? the caboose is gone.”

“Never mind about that; the iron plate is still fixed to the deck, make up your fire on that. Look about in the other cabins and break up anything that will supply you with wood. Now, señor, we will get off the after hatch while this rascal is cooking breakfast, and have a look at the state of things below.”

“I am afraid we shall find most of the cargo cleared out,” Stephen said.

“No, I do not think so. There is a strong bulkhead just below where we are standing. The things you see on shore were in the small hold under the cabin that was used for the ship’s stores, while the main contains the cargo. We got at the lazarette from a hatch under the table of the cabin. It was not convenient, but it was an advantage having a separate place when we were loaded up with hides, and there was no fear of the sailors getting at the things. We did not carry a great store—five or six barrels of flour, a few sacks of potatoes and onions, a barrel or two of biscuits, and a couple of casks of salted meat, a barrel of coffee and one of sugar.”

“Well, then, in that case the sea has saved us the trouble of getting them on shore, captain, for there are at least a dozen casks of one kind or another on the beach. Now, really the principal things are the arms. If we get up a case of a dozen muskets and a barrel of ammunition we shall do. Of course, they will be at the bottom.”

“Yes, above them are bales of soldiers’ clothes. They will be too heavy for us to lift out. They were heavy enough when they were dry, and the three of us could not lift them out, sodden as they must be with water.”

“Then we must get up a sort of derrick. There are plenty of blocks and ropes on that foremast. The difficulty will be about light spars. We shall have to go ashore and cut down two or three young trees to make our tripod with.

“I think, captain, we had better make up our minds to live on board until we have got this job done. There is less fear of our being attacked by natives, and we could do nothing in the way of searching for game until we get something to shoot it with. We must make a raft of some sort for coming backwards and forwards with. There are plenty of bits of timber on the beach that will do for that.”

Breakfast was greatly enjoyed, and it was not until an hour afterwards that the sea was sufficiently smooth for them to begin their preparations for landing. The foremast was dragged alongside, the shrouds cut away, and the running rigging unrove and coiled on deck ready for future use. A couple of coils were fastened to the mast, and late in the afternoon the captain and Stephen swam ashore, taking with them the end of one of the coils, while Jacopo remained on board to pay out the other, so that until the main raft was made the mast could be towed backwards and forwards. As soon as they were on shore they hauled at their rope and brought the mast to the beach. Then they set to work examining the casks. As the captain had predicted, most of the contents of the lazarette had been cast up, and they found that they had an ample supply of food to last them for some months. The mast had towed so easily that they agreed that it would be the best way to use it as the main portion of their raft. They dragged pieces of timber close to the mast and lashed them side by side there, so as to form a platform some three feet wide on each side of it, the length varying from four to twelve feet, according to that of the pieces of timber.

Having accomplished this, after two or three hours’ hard work, they took their places on it, and shouted to Jacopo, who hauled them back to the side of the wreck. They had fastened one end of the other rope to a tree, and at daylight next morning they again landed, and proceeded with their knives to cut down three young trees of some four inches in diameter. This took them the best part of the day. The heads were then cut off leaving three stout poles of some fourteen feet in length, and with these they returned to the ship, taking with them a bag of coffee-berries and a supply of sugar. They had found on breaking open the cask that the sugar was somewhat damaged by the sea-water, but this had not penetrated far, and by drying and repounding that touched by the water, no great harm would have been done. The next morning the shears were erected, and they set to work. It took them two days’ labour before they could clear enough of the cargo out to get at the cases. They were not troubled much by water, for at the stern-post there was but a depth of four feet on the reef, while at her bows there was nearly twenty. Working as they did at the after hatchway, there were but five feet of water below, and the uppermost tier of cases was consequently above the water-level. The barrels of cartridges were still further on, and it was the fourth day before they were reached.

Three of these barrels were got up, and when two cases of muskets had been opened, the weapons cleaned, and made ready for service, they felt a sense of security to which they had been strangers since they arrived at the island. There was now an urgent matter to be attended to. Hitherto they had drunk wine at their meals, but the contents of the skins were getting very low, and it had become absolutely necessary that they should without delay search for water. As there were hills of some size in the interior, they felt confident that there must be plenty to be found. The great point was whether it would be in the neighbourhood, or at a distance from the ship. This was a vital question, for useful as their raft was for coming and going between the wreck and the shore, it was far too heavy and clumsy for transporting their valuables any distance; and without hatchets or carpenters’ tools they could not construct a raft by breaking up the deck, and the cutting down of trees with their pocket-knives was not to be thought of.

Accordingly the three set out on foot one morning, each carrying a musket and a store of ammunition, a portion of cooked ham, and some biscuits, together with a bottle containing the last of their stock of wine. When they rounded the point of the little bay they gave a shout of satisfaction, for but fifty yards away a small stream flowed from the forest across the sand into the sea.

“What a pity we did not search for this before,” Stephen said, as throwing themselves down each scooped a hole in the sand, and took a long drink of the fresh water. “We could have saved our wine for some special occasion.”

They agreed at once to follow the stream up, as by this means they would leave no trace of footmarks, and might be able to find some suitable spot for an encampment.