CHAPTER TWO.
THE SHIPWRECK.
We have no intention of carrying our reader on step by step through allthe adventures and deeds of Charlie Brooke. It is necessary to hastenover his boyhood, leaving untold the many battles fought, risks run, anddangers encountered.
He did not cut much of a figure at the village school--though he did hisbest, and was fairly successful--but in the playground he reignedsupreme. At football, cricket, gymnastics, and, ultimately, atswimming, no one could come near him. This was partly owing to hisgreat physical strength, for, as time passed by he shot upwards andoutwards in a way that surprised his companions and amazed his mother,who was a distinctly little woman--a neat graceful little woman--with,like her stalwart son, a modest opinion of herself.
As a matter of course, Charlie's school-fellows almost worshipped him,and he was always so willing to help and lead them in all cases ofdanger or emergency, that "Charlie to the rescue!" became quite afamiliar cry on the playground. Indeed it would have been equallyappropriate in the school, for the lad never seemed to be so thoroughlyhappy as when he was assisting some boy less capable than himself tomaster his lessons.
About the time that Charlie left school, while yet a stripling, he hadthe shoulders of Samson, the chest of Hercules, and the limbs of Apollo.He was tall also--over six feet--but his unusual breadth deceivedpeople as to this till they stood close to him. Fair hair, close andcurly, with bright blue eyes and a permanent look of grave benignity,completes our description of him.
Rowing, shooting, fishing, boxing, and swimming seemed to come naturallyto him, and all of them in a superlative degree. Swimming was, perhaps,his most loved amusement and in this art he soon far outstripped hisfriend Leather. Some men are endowed with exceptional capacities inregard to water. We have seen men go into the sea warm and come outwarmer, even in cold weather. Experience teaches that the reverse isusually true of mankind in northern regions, yet we once saw a man enterthe sea to all appearance a white human being, after remaining in itupwards of an hour, and swimming away from shore; like a vessel outwardbound, he came back at last the colour of a boiled lobster!
Such exceptional qualities did Charlie Brooke possess. A South SeaIslander might have envied but could not have excelled him.
It was these qualities that decided the course of his career just afterhe left school.
"Charlie," said his mother, as they sat eating their mid-day meal aloneone day--the mother being, as we have said, a widow, and Charlie an onlychild--"what do you think of doing, now that you have left school? foryou know my income renders it impossible that I should send you tocollege."
"I don't know what to think, mother. Of course I intend to dosomething. If you had only influence with some one in power who couldenable a fellow to get his foot on the first round of any sort ofladder, something might be done, for you know I'm not exactly useless,though I can't boast of brilliant talents, but--"
"Your talents are brilliant enough, Charlie," said his mother,interrupting; "besides, you have been sent into this world for apurpose, and you may be sure that you will discover what that purposeis, and receive help to carry it out if you only ask God to guide you.Not otherwise," she added, after a pause.
"Do you _really_ believe, mother, that _every_ one who is born into theworld is sent for a purpose, and with a specific work to do?"
"I do indeed, Charlie."
"What! all the cripples, invalids, imbeciles, even the very infants whoare born to wail out their sad lives in a few weeks, or even days?"
"Yes--all of them, without exception. To suppose the opposite, andimagine that a wise, loving, and almighty Being would create anythingfor _no_ purpose seems to me the very essence of absurdity. Our onlydifficulty is that we do not always see the purpose. All things areours, but we must ask if we would have them."
"But I _have_ asked, mother," said the youth, with an earnest flush onhis brow. "You know I have done so often, yet a way has not been openedup. I believe in _your_ faith, mother, but I don't quite believe in myown. There surely must be something wrong--a screw loose somewhere."
He laid down his knife and fork, and looked out at the window with awistful, perplexed expression.
"How I wish," he continued, "that the lines had been laid down for thehuman race more distinctly, so that we could not err!"
"And yet," responded his mother, with a peculiar look, "such lines as_are_ obviously laid down we don't always follow. For instance, it iswritten, `Ask, and it shall be given you,' and we stop there, but thesentence does not stop: `Seek, and ye shall find' implies care andtrouble; `Knock, and it shall be opened unto you' hints at perseverance,does it not?"
"There's something in that, mother," said Charlie, casting anotherwistful glance out of the window. "Come, I will go out and `seek'! Isee Shank Leather waiting for me. We agreed to go to the shoretogether, for we both like to watch the waves roaring in on a breezy daylike this."
The youth rose and began to encase his bulky frame in a greatpilot-cloth coat, each button of which might have done duty as anafternoon tea-saucer.
"I wish you would choose any companion to walk with but young Leather,"said the widow, with a sigh. "He's far too like his father to do youany good."
"Mother, would you have me give up an old playmate and school-fellowbecause he is not perfect?" asked the youth in grave tones as he tied ona sou'-wester.
"Well, no--not exactly, but--"
Not having a good reason ready, the worthy woman only smiled aremonstrance. The stalwart son stooped, kissed her and was soonoutside, battling with the storm--for what he styled a breezy day was inreality a wild and stormy one.
Long before the period we have now reached Mrs Brooke had changed herresidence to the sea-coast in the small town of Sealford. Her cottagestood in the centre of the village, about half-a-mile from the shore,and close to that of her bosom friend, Mrs Leather, who had migratedalong with her, partly to be near her and partly for the sake of her sonShank, who was anxious to retain the companionship of his friend Brooke.Partly, also, to get her tippling husband away from old comrades andscenes, in the faint hope that she might rescue him from the great curseof his life.
When Charlie went out, as we have said, he found that Shank had broughthis sister May with him. This troubled our hero a good deal, for he hadpurposed having a confidential talk with his old comrade upon futureplans and prospects, to the accompaniment of the roaring sea, and athird party was destructive of such intention. Besides, poor May,although exceedingly unselfish and sweet and good, was at thattransition period of life when girlhood is least attractive--at least toyoung men: when bones are obtrusive, and angles too conspicuous, and theform generally is too suggestive of flatness and longitude; whileshyness marks the manners, and inexperience dwarfs the mind. We wouldnot, however, suggest for a moment that May was ugly. By no means, butshe had indeed reached what may be styled a plain period of life--aperiod in which some girls become silently sheepish, and otherstomboyish; May was among the former, and therefore a drag uponconversation. But, after all, it mattered little, for the rapidlyincreasing gale rendered speech nearly impossible.
"It's too wild a day for you, May," said Brooke, as he shook hands withher; "I wonder you care to be out."
"She _doesn't_ care to be out, but I wanted her to come, and she's agood obliging girl, so she came," said Shank, drawing her arm throughhis as they pressed forward against the blast in the direction of theshore.
Shank Leather had become a sturdy young fellow by that time, but wasmuch shorter than his friend. There was about him, however, anunmistakable look of dissipation--or, rather, the beginning of it--whichaccounted for Mrs Brooke's objection to him as a companion for her son.
We have said that the cottage lay about half-a-mile from the shore,which could be reached by a winding lane between high banks. Theseeffectually shut out the view of the sea until one was close to it,though, at certain times, the roar of the waves could be heard even in
Sealford itself.
Such a time was the present, for the gale had lashed the sea intowildest fury, and not only did the three friends hear it, as, with bentheads, they forced their way against the wind, but they felt the foam ofocean on their faces as it was carried inland sometimes in lumps andflakes. At last they came to the end of the lane, and the sea, lashedto its wildest condition, lay before them like a sheet of tortured foam.
"Grand! isn't it?" said Brooke, stopping and drawing himself up for amoment, as if with a desire to combat the opposing elements.
If May Leather could not speak, she could at all events gaze, for shehad superb brown eyes, and they glittered, just then, like glowingcoals, while a wealth of rippling brown hair was blown from itsfastenings, and flew straight out behind her.
"Look! look there!" shouted her brother with a wild expression, as hepointed to a part of the rocky shore where a vessel was dimly seenthrough the drift.
"She's trying to weather the point," exclaimed Brooke, clearing themoisture from his eyes, and endeavouring to look steadily.
"She'll never weather it. See! the fishermen are following heralong-shore," cried young Leather, dropping his sister's arm, andbounding away.
"Oh! don't leave me behind, Shank," pleaded May.
Shank was beyond recall, but our hero, who had also sprung forward,heard the pleading voice and turned back.
"Here, hook on to me," he cried quickly, for he was in no humour todelay.
The girl grasped his arm at once, and, to say truth, she was not much ofa hindrance, for, although somewhat inelegant, as we have said, she waslithe as a lizard and fleet as a young colt.
A few minutes brought them to the level shore where Brooke left May toshelter herself with some fisher-women behind a low wall, while he ranalong to a spot where a crowd of fishermen and old salts, enveloped inoil-skins, were discussing the situation as they leaned against theshrieking wind.
"Will she weather it, Grinder, think you?" he asked of an elderly man,whose rugged features resembled mahogany, the result of having biddefiance to wind and weather for nigh half a century.
"She may, Mr Brooke, an' she mayn't," answered the matter-of-fact manof the sea, in the gruff monotone with which he would have summoned allhands to close reef in a hurricane. "If her tackle holds she'll do it.If it don't she won't."
"We've sent round for the rocket anyhow," said a smart young fisherman,who seemed to rejoice in opposing his broad chest to the blast, and inlistening to the thunder of the waves as they rolled into the exposedbay in great battalions, chasing each other in wild tumultuous fury, asif each were bent on being first in the mad assault upon the shore.
"Has the lifeboat coxswain been called?" asked Charlie, after a fewminutes' silence, for the voice of contending elements was too great torender converse easy or agreeable.
"Yes, sir," answered the man nearest to him, "but she's bin called to awreck in Mussel Bay, an' that brig will be all right or in Davy Jones'slocker long afore th' lifeboat 'ud fetch round here."
Silence again fell on the group as they gazed out to sea, pushingeagerly down the beach until they were ankle-deep in the foam of eachexpended wave; for the brig was by that time close on the point ofrocks, staggering under more sail than she could carry with safety.
"She'll do it!" exclaimed the smart young fisherman, ready to cheer withenthusiastic hope.
"Done for! Lost!" cried one, while something like a groan burst fromthe others as they saw the brig's topmasts go over the side, and one ofher sails blown to ribbons. She fell away towards the rocks at once.
Like great black teeth these rocks seemed to leap in the midst of thefoam, as if longing to grasp the ill-fated vessel, which had, indeed,all but weathered the dangerous point, and all might have been well ifher gear had only held; but now, as if paralysed, she drifted into thebay where certain destruction awaited her.
Just at that moment a great cheer arose, for the rocket-cart, drawn bythe men of the Coast-Guard, was seen rattling over the downs towardsthem.
Anxiety for the fate of the doomed brig was now changed into eager hopefor the rescue of her crew. The fishermen crowded round the Coast-Guardmen as they ran the cart close down to the water's edge, and some ofthem--specially the smart young fellow already mentioned--made eageroffer of their services. Charlie Brooke stood aloof, looking on withprofound interest, for it was the first time he had ever seen the Manbyrocket apparatus brought into action. He made no hasty offer to assist,for he was a cool youth--even while burning with impatient enthusiasm--and saw at a glance that the men of the Coast-Guard were well able tomanage their own affairs and required no aid from him.
As the brig was coming straight in they could easily calculate where shewould strike, so that the rocket men could set up their triangle andarrange their tackle without delay. This was fortunate, for the wreckwas carried shoreward with great rapidity. She struck at last whenwithin a short distance of the beach, and the faces of those on boardcould be distinctly seen, and their cries heard, as both masts snappedoff and were swept over the side, where they tore at the shrouds likewild creatures, or charged the hulk like battering-rams. Instantly thebillows that had borne the vessel on their crests burst upon her sides,and spurted high in air over her, falling back on her deck, and sweepingoff everything that was moveable. It could be seen that only three orfour men were on deck, and these kept well under the lee of the bulwarksnear the stern where they were strongest.
"No passengers, I think," said one of the fishermen; "no women, anyhow."
"Not likely they'd be 'lowed on deck even if there was," growledGrinder, in his monotone.
"Now, then, out o' the way," cried the leader of the Coast-Guard men, ashe laid a rocket in its place. "Line all clear, Fred?"
"All clear."
Next moment there was a burst of flame, a crash, and a vicious whizz asthe powerful projectile leaped from its stand and sped out to sea, ingrand defiance of the opposing gale, with its light line behind it.
A cheer marked its flight, but a groan told of its descent into theboiling sea, considerably to the left of the wreck.
"_What_ a pity!" cried Shank Leather, who had come close to his friendwhen the rocket-cart arrived.
"No matter," said Brooke, whose compressed lips and flashing eyes toldof deep but suppressed feelings. "There are more rockets."
He was right. While he was speaking, another rocket was placed andfired. It was well directed, but fell short. Another, and yet another,rose and fell, but failed to reach its mark, and the remainder of therockets refused to go off from some unknown cause--either because theyhad been too long in stock or had become damp.
Meantime the brig was tossed farther and farther in, until she stuckquite fast. Then it became evident that she must soon break up, and hercrew perish. Hasty plans and eager advice were proposed and given.Then the smart young fisherman suddenly sprang forward, and threw offhis oil-coat and sou'-wester.
"Here! hold on!" he cried, catching up the end of the rocket line, andfastening it round his waist, while he kicked off his heavy boots.
"You can't do it, Bill," cried some.
"Too far to swim," cried others.
"The seas 'll knock the life out o' ye," said Grinder, "afore you'reclear o' the sand."
Despite these warnings the brave young fellow dashed into the foam, andplunged straight into the first mighty breaker that towered over hishead. But he was too much excited to act effectively. He failed totime his plunge well. The wave fell upon him with a roar and crushedhim down. In a few seconds he was dragged ashore almost insensible.
Example, whether good or bad, is infectious. Another strapping youngfellow, stirred to emulation, ran forward, and, seizing the rope, tiedit round his own waist, while they helped poor Bill up the beach andseated him on a sand-bank.
The second youth was more powerful than the first--and cooler. He madea better attempt, but only got past the first wave, when his comrades,seeing that he was exhausted, drew him ba
ck. Then a third--a broadburly youth--came forward.
At this point the soul of Shank Leather took fire, for he was by nomeans destitute of generous impulses, and he tried to get hold of therope.
"Out o' the way," cried the burly youth, giving Leather a rough pushthat almost sent him on his back; "we don't want no land-lubbers forthis kind o' work."
Up to this point Charlie Brooke, although burning with eager desire totake some active part in the rescue, had restrained himself and heldback, believing, with characteristic modesty, that the fishermen knewfar better than he did how to face the sea and use their appliances; butwhen he saw his friend stagger backward, he sprang to the front, caughthold of the line, and, seizing the burly fisherman by the arm,exclaimed, "You'll let _this_ land-lubber try it, anyhow," and sent himspinning away like a capsized nine-pin.
There was a short laugh, as well as a cheer at this; but next moment allwere gazing at the sea in breathless anxiety, for Brooke had rushed deepinto the surf. He paused one moment, as the great wave curled over him,then went through it head-first with such force that he shot waist-highout of the sea on the other side. His exceptional swimming-powers nowserved him well, for his otter-like rapidity of action enabled him toavoid the crushing billows either by diving through them at the rightmoment, or holding back until they fell, and left him only the madswirling foam to contend with. This last was bad enough, but here hisgreat muscular strength and his inexhaustible caloric, with hiscork-like power of flotation, enabled him to hold his own withoutexhaustion until another opportunity of piercing an unbroken waveoffered. Thus he gradually forced his way through and beyond the worstbreakers, which are always those nearest shore. Had any one been closeto him, and able calmly to watch his movements, it would have been seenthat, great as were the youth's powers, he did not waste them in uselessbattling with a force against which no man could effectively contend;that, with a cool head, he gave way to every irresistible force,swimming for a moment, as it were, with the current--or, rather,floating easily in the whirlpools--so as to conserve his strength; that,ever and anon, he struck out with all his might, rushing through foamand wave like a fish, and that, in the midst of it all, he saw andseized the brief moments in which he could take a gasping inhalation.
Those who watched him with breathless anxiety on shore saw little of allthis as they paid out the line or perched themselves on tiptoe on thefew boulders that here and there strewed the sand.
"Haul him back!" shouted the man who was farthest out on the line."He's used up!"
"No, he's not, I know him well!" roared Shank Leather. "Pay out, men--pay out line!"
"Ay, ease away," said Grinder, in a thunderous growl. "He's a riglerwalrus, he is. Niver see'd sich a feller since I left the southernseas. Ease away, boys."
A cheer followed his remark, for at that moment it was seen that ourhero had reached the tail of the eddy which was caused by the hull ofthe wreck, and that one of her crew had darted from the cover of thevessel's bulwarks and taken shelter under the stump of the mainmast.His object was seen in a moment, for he unhooked a coil of rope from thebelaying-pins, and stood ready to heave it to the approaching swimmer.In making even this preparation the man ran very great risk, for thestump was but a partial shelter--each wave that burst over the sidesweeping wildly round it and leaping on the man higher than his waist,so that it was very difficult for him to avoid being torn from hisposition.
Charlie's progress was now comparatively easy. A few vigorous strokesbrought him under the lea of the wreck, which, however, was by no meansa quiet spot, for each divided wave, rushing round bow and stern, metthere in a tumult of foam that almost choked the swimmer, while eachbillow that burst over the wreck poured a small Niagara on his head.
How to get on board in such circumstances was a subject that hadtroubled Charlie's mind as he drew near, but the action of the sailorunhooking the coil of rope at once relieved him. The moment he camewithin reach, the sailor, watching his opportunity between waves, threwout the coil. It was aimed by an accustomed hand and fell on therescuer's head. Another minute and young Brooke stood on the deck.Without waiting an instant he leaped under the shelter of the stump ofthe mainmast beside the seaman. He was only just in time, for a waveburst in thunder on the weather side of the quivering brig, and, pouringover the bulwarks, almost dragged him from the belaying-pins to which heclung.
The instant the strain was off, he passed a rope round his waist andgave the end of it to the sailor.
"Here, make it fast," he said, beginning to haul with all his might onthe line which he had brought from shore. "You're the skipper--eh?"
"Yes. Don't waste your breath in speech. I know what to do. All'sready."
These few words were an unspeakable relief to our hero, who was wellaware that the working of the rocket apparatus required a slight amountof knowledge, and who felt from his manner and tone that the skipper wasa thorough man. He glanced upwards as he hauled in the line, assistedby his companion, and saw that a stout rope with two loops on it hadbeen fixed to the stump of the mast. Just as he noted this withsatisfaction a large block with a thin line rove through it emerged fromthe boiling sea. It had been attached by the men on shore to the rocketline which Charlie had been hauling out with so much energy. Its namewas indicated by the skipper.
"Here comes the _whip_," he cried, catching hold of the block when itreached him. "Hold me up, lad, while I make it fast to them loops."
While Charlie obeyed he saw that by fixing the tail-lines of the blockquickly to the loops prepared for them, instead of winding them roundthe mast,--a difficult process in such a sea--much time was saved.
"There, _our_ part o' the job is done now," said the skipper, pullingoff his sou'-wester as he spoke and holding it up as a signal to the menon shore.
Meanwhile those to whom he signalled had been watching every movementwith intense eagerness, and with the expressions of men whose gaze hasto penetrate with difficulty through a haze of blinding spray.
"They've got the block now," cried one man.
"Does that young feller know about fixin' of it?" asked another.
"Clap a stopper on your mugs; they're a-fixin' of it now," said oldGrinder. "There's the signal! Haul away, lads!"
We must explain here that the "whip" above mentioned was a double orendless line, passing through the block which had been hauled out to thewreck by our hero.
By means of this whip one end of a stout cable was sent off to thewreck, and on this cable a sling-lifebuoy was hung to a pulley and alsorun out to the wreck. The working of the apparatus, though simpleenough to seamen, would entail a complicated, perhaps incomprehensible,description to landsmen: we therefore pass it by with the remark that,connection with the shore having been established, and thesling-lifebuoy--or life-saving machine--run out, the crew received itwith what was meant for a hearty cheer, but which exhaustion modified toa feeble shout.
"Now, lads," cried the skipper to his men, "look sharp! Let out thepassengers."
"Passengers?" exclaimed Charlie Brooke in surprise.
"Ay--my wife an' little gurl, two women and an old gentleman. You don'tsuppose I'd keep 'em on deck to be washed overboard?"
As he spoke two of the men opened the doors of the companion-hatch, andcaught hold of a little girl of about five years of age, who was handedup by a woman.
"Stay! keep her under cover till I get hold of her," cried the skipper.
As he was passing from the mast to the companion a heavy sea burst overthe bulwarks, and swept him into the scuppers. The same wave wrenchedthe child from the grasp of the man who held it and carried it rightoverboard. Like an eel, rather than a man, Charlie cleft the foam closebehind her, caught her by the skirt and bore her to the surface, when afew strokes of his free arm brought him close under the lee of the wreckjust in time to prevent the agonised father from leaping after hischild. There was terrible suspense for a few minutes. At one momentour hero, with his burden held high aloft, was far do
wn in the hollow ofthe watery turmoil, with the black hull like a great wall rising abovehim, while the skipper in the main-chains, pale as death but sternlysilent held on with his left hand and reached down with his right--everyfinger rigid and ready! Next moment a water-spout, so to speak, borethe rescuer upward on its crest, but not near enough--they went downwardagain. Once more the leaping water surged upwards; the skipper's stronghand closed like the grip of death on the dress, and the child was safewhile its rescuer sank away from it.
"Help him!" shouted the skipper, as he staggered to the shelter of thecompanion.
But Charlie required no help. A loose rope hanging over the side caughthis eye: he seized it and was on deck again in a few seconds. A minutelater and he was down in the cabin.
There, terror-stricken, sat the skipper's wife, never venturing to move,because she had been told to remain there till called. Happily she knewnothing of the incident just described.
Beside her sat the other women, and, near to them, a stern oldgentleman, who, with compressed lips, quietly awaited orders.
"Come, quick!" said Charlie, grasping by the arm one of the women.
It was the skipper's wife. She jumped up right willingly and went ondeck. There she found her child already in the life-buoy, and wasinstantly lifted in beside it by her husband, who looked hastily round.
"Come here, Dick," he said to a little cabin-boy who clung to astanchion near by. "Get in."
The boy looked surprised, and drew back.
"Get in, I say," repeated the skipper sternly.
"There's more women, sir," said the boy, still holding back.
"True--brave lad! but you're wanted to keep these from getting washedout. I am too heavy, you know."
The boy hesitated no longer. He squeezed himself into the machinebeside the woman and child.
Then up at arm's-length went the skipper's sou'-wester as a signal thatall was ready, and the fishermen began to haul the life-buoy to theshore.
It was an awful trip! Part of the distance, indeed, the trio were bornealong well out of the sea, though the waves leaped hungrily up and sentspray over them, but as they drew near the shore they were dipped againand again into the foam, so that the little cabin boy needed all hisenergy and knowledge, as well as his bravery and strength, to preventhis charge being washed out. Amid ringing cheers from the fishermen--and a treble echo from the women behind the wall--they were at lastsafely landed.
"My lass, that friend o' your'n be a braave cheeld," said an old womanto May Leather, who crouched beside her.
"Ay, _that_ he is!" exclaimed May, with a gush of enthusiasm in tone andeyes that made them all turn to look at her.
"Your brother?" asked a handsome, strapping young woman.
"No--I wish he was!"
"Hm! ha!" exclaimed the strapping young woman--whereat there wasexchanged a significant laugh; but May took no notice of it, being toodeeply engrossed with the proceedings on shore and sea.
Again the fishermen ran out the life-buoy and soon hauled it back withanother woman; then a third. After that came the old gentleman, quiteself-possessed and calm, though very pale and dishevelled; and,following him, the crew, one by one, were rescued. Then came the heroof the hour, and last of all, as in duty bound, the skipper--not muchtoo soon, for he had barely reached the land when the brig wasoverwhelmed and engulfed in the raging sea.