CHAPTER II.
AN EXCITING VOYAGE.
It may be that Jose's fears on my account had exaggerated the danger,as we reached Callao without interruption, and dismounted outside Mr.Warren's villa. Here the Indian took leave of us, but before going heunfastened a silver key from the chain round his neck, and pressed itinto my hand.
"It may happen," said he, "that at some time or other you will needhelp. That key and the name of Raymon Sorillo will obtain it for youfrom every patriot in the mountains of Peru. For the present,farewell. When you return from Chili we shall meet again."
Without waiting for my thanks he bade adieu to Jose and then, spurringhis horse into a gallop, he disappeared.
From the man who opened the gate in answer to our summons we learnedthat my father's friend was at home, and leaving our horses, we wentimmediately into the house. This English merchant had often been ourguest, and it was soon abundantly evident that we had done right intrusting him. He was a short, round-faced man, with a floridcomplexion, twinkling eyes, and sandy hair. He was very restless andirritable, and had a queer habit of twiddling his thumbs backward andforward whenever his hands were unoccupied.
"How do, Joseph?" exclaimed he, jumping up. "Come to take that berth Ioffered you? No? Well, well, what a fool a man can be if he tries!Why, bless me, this is young Jack Crawford! Eight miles from home, andat this time of night too! Anything the matter? Get it out, Joseph,and don't waste time."
While Joseph was explaining the circumstances, the choleric little mandanced about the room, exclaiming at intervals, "Ted Crawford gone?Dear, dear! Not a better fellow in South America! I'd shoot 'em allor string 'em up! The country's going to the dogs, and a man isn'tsafe in his own house! Eh? What? Hurt the boy? What's the boy to dowith it? They can't punish him if his father had been fifty times arebel!"
"That is so, sir," remarked Jose; "but he might meet with anunfortunate accident, or vanish mysteriously, or something of thatkind. What's the use of making believe? Those who have got rid of thefather won't spare the son, should he happen to stand in their way."
"Which he will," interrupted Mr. Warren. "My poor friend was hand inglove with the Indians, and they'll rally round the boy."
"There are other things, too, which need not be gone into now,however," said Jose; "but the long and the short of it is that Jackmust be got out of the way at present."
"And his mother?"
"She has sent him to you."
"But he can't be hidden here. The rascally Dons will have him in thecasemates before one can say 'Jack Robinson!'"
"We don't mean to stay here, sir," replied Jose. "Our idea is to go toValparaiso, and we thought if you had a ship--"
"The very thing, Joseph," and the thumbs went backward and forwardtaster than ever. "Maxwell has a schooner leaving in the morning. Youcan go on board to-night if you choose, but you had better have somesupper first."
As it happened, both Jose and I had been some time without food, so wewere glad to have something to eat; after which Mr. Warren took us tothe quay, where the schooner _Aguila_ lay moored.
"There she is," he remarked; "let us go aboard. Most likely we shallfind Maxwell there.--Hi, you fellows, show a light!--Lazy dogs, aren'tthey? Mind your foot there, and don't tumble into the harbour; youwon't get to Valparaiso that way.--That you, Maxwell? I have brought acouple of friends who are so charmed with your boat that they want tomake a trip in her. Where do you keep your cabin? Let's go downthere; we can't talk on deck."
Mr. Maxwell was another English merchant at Callao, and as soon as heheard what had happened, he readily agreed to give us a passage in the_Aguila_. We must be prepared to rough it, he said. The schooner hadno accommodation for passengers, but she was a sound boat, and theChilian skipper was a trustworthy sailor. Then he sent to hiswarehouse for some extra provisions, and afterwards introduced us tothe captain, whose name was Montevo.
As the schooner was to sail at daylight, our friends remained with us,and, sitting in the dingy cabin, chatted with Jose about the state ofthe country. By listening to the talk I learned that General SanMartin was a great soldier from Buenos Ayres, who, having overthrownthe Spanish power in Chili, was collecting an army with which to drivethe Spanish rulers from Peru. At the same time another leader, GeneralBolivar, was freeing the northern provinces, and it was thought thatthe two generals, joining their forces, would sweep Peru from north tosouth.
"And a good thing, too!" exclaimed Mr. Warren. "Perhaps we shall havea little peace then!"
"Pooh! stuff!" said his friend; "things will be worse than ever! Thesepeople can't rule themselves. They're like disorderly schoolboys, andneed a firm master who knows how to use the birch. I am all for astern master."
"So am I," agreed Jose, "if he's just, which the Spaniards aren't."
"That is so," cried Mr. Warren. "What would our property be worth ifit wasn't for the British frigate lying in the harbour? Tell me that,Maxwell; tell me that, sir! They'd confiscate the whole lot, and clapus into prison for being paupers," and the thumbs revolved like thesails of a windmill.
So the talk continued until daybreak, when the skipper, knocking at thecabin door, informed us that the schooner was ready to sail; so we allwent on deck, where the kindly merchants bade us good-bye, and hoped weshould have a pleasant voyage.
"Keep the youngster out of mischief, Joseph. There's plenty of foodfor powder without using him," were Mr. Warren's last words as hestepped ashore, followed by his friend.
It was the first time I had been on board a ship, and I knew absolutelynothing of what the sailors were doing; but presently the boat began tomove, the merchants, waving their hands, shouted a last good-bye, andvery quickly we passed to the outer harbour.
I have been in many dangers and suffered numerous hardships since then,some of which are narrated in this book, but I have never felt quite sowretched and miserable as on the morning of our departure from Callao.
Wishing to divert my thoughts, Jose pointed out the beauties of the bayand the shore; but my gaze went far inland--to the lonely home where mymother sat with her grief, to the mighty cordillera where my father laydead. Time softened the pain, and brought back the pleasures of life,but just then it seemed as if I should never laugh or sing or be merryagain.
The first day or two on the _Aguila_ did not tend to make me morecheerful, though the skipper did what he could to make us comfortable.We slept in a dirty little box, which was really the mate's cabin, andhad our meals, or at least Jose had, at the captain's table.
By degrees, however, my sickness wore off, and on the fourth morning Ibegan to take an interest in things. By this time the land was out ofsight; for miles and miles the blue water lay around us--aninterminable stretch. There was not a sail to be seen, and the utterloneliness impressed me with a feeling of awe.
Jose was as ignorant of seafaring matters as myself; but the captainsaid we were making a good voyage, and with that we were content. Astiff breeze blew the schooner along merrily, the blue sky was fleckedonly by the softest white clouds, and the swish, swish of the wateragainst the vessel's sides sounded pleasantly in our ears. I began tothink there were worse ways of earning a living than by going to sea.
That same evening I turned in early, leaving Jose on deck, but I wasstill awake when he entered the cabin.
"There's an ugly storm brewing," said he, kicking off his boots, "and Idon't think the skipper much likes the prospect of it. He has allhands at work taking in the sails and getting things ready generally.Rather a lucky thing for us that the _Aguila_ is a stout boat. Listen!That's the first blast!" as the schooner staggered and reeled.
Above us we heard the captain shouting orders, the answering cries ofthe sailors, and the groaning of the timbers, as if the ship were aliving being stretched on a rack. Slipping out of my bunk and dressingquickly, I held on to a bar to steady myself.
"Let us go on deck before they batten down the hatches," said Jose,putting
on his boots again. "I've no mind to stay in this hole. Ifthe ship sinks, we shall be drowned like rats in a trap."
He climbed the steps, and I followed, shuddering at the picture hiswords had conjured up. The scene was grand, but wild and awful in theextreme. I hardly dared to watch the great waves thundering along asif seeking to devour our tiny craft. Now the schooner hung poised fora moment on the edge of a mountainous wave; the next instant it seemedto be dashing headlong into a fathomless, black abyss. The wind toreon with a fierce shriek, and we scudded before it under bare poles,flying for life.
Two men were at the wheel; the captain, lashed aft, was yelling outorders which no one could understand, or, understanding, obey. Thenight, as yet, was not particularly dark, and I shivered at sight ofthe white, scared faces of the crew. They could do nothing more; inthe face of such a gale they were helpless as babies; those at thewheel kept the ship's head straight by great effort, but beyond that,everything was unavailing. Our fate was in the hands of God; He alonecould determine whether it should be life or death.
Once, above the fury of the storm, the howling of the wind, thestraining of the timber, there rose an awful shriek; and though thetragedy was hidden from my sight, I knew it to be the cry of an unhappysailor in his death-agony. A huge wave, leaping like some ravenousanimal to the deck, had caught him and was gone; while the spirit ofthe wind laughed in demoniacal glee as he was tossed from crest tocrest, the sport of the cruel billows.
The captain had seen, but was powerless to help. The schooner was butthe plaything of the waves, while to launch a boat--ah, how thestorm-fiends would have laughed at the attempt! So leaving the haplesssailor to his fate, we drove on through a blinding wall of rain intothe dark night, waiting for the end. No sky was visible, nor the lightof any star, but the great cloud walls stood up thick on every side,and it seemed as if the boat were plunging through a dark and drearytunnel.
Close to me, where a lantern not yet douted [Transcriber's note:doused?] cast its fitful light, a man lay grovelling on the deck. Hewas praying aloud in an agony of fear, but no sound could be heard fromhis moving lips. Suddenly there came a crash as of a falling body, thelight went out, and I saw the man no more. How long the night lasted Icannot tell; to me it seemed an age, and no second of it was free fromfear. Whether we were driving north, south, east, or west no one knew,while the fury of the storm would have drowned the thunder of waves ona surf-beaten shore. But the _Aguila_ was an English boat, built byhonest English workmen, and her planks held firmly together despite theraging storm.
For long hours, as I have said, we were swallowed up in darkness,feeling ourselves in the presence of death; but the light broke throughat last, a cold gray light, and cheerless withal, which exactly suitedour unhappy condition. The wind, too, as though satisfied with itsnight's work, sank to rest, while by degrees the tossing of the angrybillows subsided into a peaceful ripple.
We looked at each other and at the schooner. One man had been washedoverboard; another, struck by a falling spar, still lay insensible; therest were weary and exhausted. Thanks to the skipper's foresight, the_Aguila_ had suffered less than we had expected, and he exclaimedcheerfully that the damage could soon be repaired. But though our goodship remained sound, the storm had wrought a fearful calamity, whichdazed the bravest, and blanched every face among us.
The skipper brought the news when he joined us at breakfast, and hislips could scarcely frame the words.
"The water-casks are stove in," he exclaimed, "and we have hardly agallon of fresh water aboard!"
"Then we must run for the nearest port," said Jose, trying to speakcheerily.
The captain spread out his hands dramatically.
"There is no port," he replied, in something of a hopeless tone, "andthere is no wind. The schooner lies like a log on the water."
We went on deck, forgetting past dangers in the more terrifying onebefore us. The captain had spoken truly: not a breath of air stirred,and the sea lay beneath us like a sheet of glass. The dark clouds hadrolled away, and though the sun was not visible, the thin haze betweenus and the sky was tinged blood-red. It was such a sight as no man onboard had seen, and the sailors gazed at it in awestruck silence.
Hour after hour through the livelong day the _Aguila_ lay motionless,as if held by some invisible cable. No ripple broke the glassysurface, no breath of wind fanned the idle sails, and the air webreathed was hot and stifling, as if proceeding from a furnace.
The men lounged about listlessly, unable to forget their distress evenin sleep. The captain scanned the horizon eagerly, looking in vain forthe tiniest cloud that might promise a break-up of the hideous weather.Jose and I lay under an awning, though this was no protection from thestifling atmosphere.
Every one hoped that evening would bring relief, that a breeze mightspring up, or that we might have a downpour of rain. Evening came, butthe situation was unchanged, and a great fear entered our hearts. Howlong could we live like this--how long before death would release usfrom our misery? for misery it was now in downright, cruel earnest.
Once Jose rose and walked to the vessel's side, but, returning shortly,lay face downward on the deck.
"I must shut out the sight of the sea," he said, "or I shall go mad.What an awful thing to perish of thirst with water everywhere aroundus!"
This was our second night of horror, but very different in its naturefrom the first. Then, for long hours, we went in fear of the storm;now, we would have welcomed the most terrible tempest that ever blew,if only it brought us rain.
Very slowly the night crept by, and again we were confronted by thegray haze, with its curious blood-red tint. We could not escape fromthe vessel, as our boats had been smashed in the hurricane; we couldonly wait for what might happen in this sea of the dead.
"Rain or death, it is one or the other!" remarked Jose, as, rising toour feet, we staggered across to the skipper.
Rain or death! Which would come first, I wondered.
The captain could do nothing, though I must say he played his part likea man--encouraging the crew, foretelling a storm which should riselater in the day, and asserting that we were right in the track ofships. We had only to hold on patiently, he said, and all would comeright.
Jose also spoke to the me cheerfully, trying to keep alive a glimmer ofhope; but as the morning hours dragged wearily along, they were fain togive way to utter despair. No ships could reach us, they said, whilethe calm lasted, and not the slightest sign of change could be seen.Our throats were parched, our lips cracked, our eyes bloodshot andstaring. One of the crew, a plump, chubby, round-faced man, begantalking aloud in a rambling manner, and presently, with a scream ofexcitement, he sprang into the rigging.
"Sail ho!" he cried, "sail ho!" and forgetting our weakness, we alljumped up to peer eagerly through the gauzy mist.
"Where away?" exclaimed the captain.
The sailor laughed in glee. "Oho! Here she comes!" cried he; "hereshe comes!" and, tearing off his shirt, waved it frantically.
The action was so natural, the man seemed so much in earnest, that wehung over the schooner's side, anxiously scanning the horizon for ourrescuer. Again the fellow shouted, "Here she comes!" and then, with afrenzied laugh, flung himself into the glassy sea.
A groan of despair burst from the crew, and for several seconds no onemoved. Then Jose, crying, "Throw me a rope!" jumped overboard, andswam to the spot where the man had gone down.
"Come back!" cried the skipper hoarsely; "you will be drowned! Thepoor fellow has lost his senses." But Jose, unheeding the warning,clutched the man as he came to the surface a second time.
We heard the demented laugh of the drowning sailor, and then the twodisappeared--down, down into the depths together.
"He has thrown his life away for a madman!" said the captain, and hiswords brought me to my senses.
With a prayer in my heart I leaped into the sea, hoping that I mightyet save the brave fellow.
A cry fro
m the schooner told me that he had reappeared, and soon I sawhim alone, and well-nigh exhausted. A dozen strokes took me to hisside, and then, half supporting him, I turned toward the vessel. Themen flung us a rope, and willing hands hauled first Jose and then meaboard.
"A brave act," said the skipper gruffly, "but foolhardy!"
Jose smiled, and, still leaning on me, went below to the cabin, where,removing our wet things, we had a good rub down.
"Thanks, my boy!" said Jose, "but for your help I doubt if I could havegot back. The poor beggar nearly throttled me, down under!" and Inoticed on his throat the marks of fingers that must have pressed himlike a vice.
"Do you feel it now?" I asked.
"Only here," touching his throat; "but for that, I should be all thebetter for the dip. Let us go on deck again; I am stifling here. Andkeep up your spirits, Jack. Don't give way the least bit, or it willbe all over with you. We are in a fearful plight, but help may yetcome." And I promised him solemnly that I would do my best.