CHAPTER II.--A FEARFUL EXPERIENCE.
Once more the _Ocean's Pride_ was spanking along before a delightfulbreeze with the dark blue sea sparkling in the sunlight around her, andMother Carey's chickens, as sailors call the stormy petrels, flittingpast and re-past her stern.
Seamen say these birds are always the forerunners of storm and tempest.This is not so, but in this case the prophecy turned out to be a correctone. A fearful hurricane or tornado struck the ship, and raged for daysand days.
There was no such thing as battling against it. So it ended in theirbeing driven far away to the west into unknown or little frequentedseas. I am wrong in saying it ended. For the end was of a far moreterrible nature than anything I ever heard of before, or everexperienced.
On the fourth day the tempest seemed almost played out, and the sky wasbrightening somewhat in the east.
The skipper was rubbing his hands and saying to his mate:
"I think we shall be able to shake a reef out before long."
"So do I," was the cheery answer.
Both the young fellows M'Vayne were below at present, and the vessel wasbattened down.
"Oh, look, look!" cried the mate, seizing the skipper by the arm andpointing fearfully towards the east.
"Good Lord preserve us!" said Captain Wilson in terror.
And well he might be so, for yonder, quite blotting out the clear stripof sky, a huge wave or bore had arisen. It was of semi-lunar shape, andmust have been fifty feet high at the very least. The top all along wasone mass of foam.
Nearer and nearer it came!
The sailor men crouched in fear, or hastened to make themselves fast byropes' ends to rigging or shroud.
And now the fine vessel is struck--is wallowing in the midst of thathurricane-tossed turmoil of waters--is on her beam-ends, without anyapparent hope of recovery.
But recover she did after a time, and the ocean wave swept on.
What a wreck! The half-drowned men, or those who were left alive,gasped for breath as they stared wildly around. Two masts gone by theboards, only the pitiful foremast left standing; every boat staved andwashed away, bulwarks gaping like sheep hurdles, and the poop crushedin.
And the officers where were they? Gone!
Yes--and my story is told from the life and the death--not only boldCaptain Wilson himself but both his mates had been swept overboard anddrowned.
Five men were missing; nor had all escaped down below. The cook wasseverely injured, and but for the presence of mind and speed of twoordinary seamen, the ship would have caught fire, for the blazing coalshad been dashed out of the range and ignited ropes and twine that laynot far off.
And poor Duncan! He had been dashed to leeward and so stunned that hisbrother and a sailor who had picked him up, believed him to be dead.
For three days he lay unconscious, but in two more days he was to allappearance himself again.
Although suffering from a bad scalp wound, he was able to go on deck.
And sad indeed was the sight he now beheld. With the binnacle washedaway, without an officer to guide or direct the vessel; and the men, inalmost hourly expectation of death should the wind spring up again oncemore, had allowed the ship to drift with the current. They werehelpless, ay, and hopeless.
And I am sorry to add that many of them had found their way to thespirit room, and were lying on deck drunk and asleep.
Duncan now proved himself the right man--or boy, for he was but littleover seventeen--in the right place.
He called the hands aft.
"Men," he said, "we cannot continue in this state; some effort must bemade to save our lives and the valuable cargo."
"Ah! young sir," said the bo's'n sadly, "all our officers are dead.There is no one to guide or navigate the ship. We must drift on till westrike reef or rock and so go to pieces.
"Never fear, sir, we'll die like true-born Britons."
"But," cried Duncan, "there need be no dying about it. I myself cannavigate the ship, if sextant and chronometer still are safe."
They crowded round this brave though youthful navigator and shook him bythe hand, while tears of joy streamed down many a sea-brownedweather-beaten cheek.
"Can you, sir? Oh, can you? Then take charge and we will obey."
Luckily the rudder and wheel were uninjured, and as soon as he had takensights and found out where he was, he had a jib and new foresails set,the helm was put up, and slowly the _Ocean's Pride_ began to sail forthe nearest land.
This was one of the Azores. Very far away indeed, but still Duncanhoped to reach it ere long and in safety.
The young fellow's orders followed each other quickly enough, and wereobeyed with great alacrity.
The spirit-room was locked, and an armed sentry placed over it. He wasto bludgeon any man who should dare to approach it with intent.
Several of the worst cases of drunkards he put in irons.
Then all hands were told off to temporarily repair the ship.
The poop was mended and made water-tight, and the bulwarks roughly seento. This occupied a whole day, and as soon as daylight succeededdarkness the busy crew were at work once more.
There were several spare spars on board, and the men now set aboutrigging a couple of jury-masts, which, though only carrying fore-and-aftsails, would greatly add to the good ship's speed.
But more than this had to be done, for she had shipped quite a deal ofwater, and the donkey-engine had to be repaired and rigged to get clearof it.
While work was going on cheerily enough a poor drink-demented wretch,who had escaped from below, rushed wildly up, and sprang with a shriek,that none who heard it ever forgot, right into the sea.
There was not a boat to lower, and small use would it have been anyhow,for those who looked fearfully over the bulwarks saw but a red circle onthe waves, and rising bubbles. It was the poor man's blood and breath,for he had been torn down by a shark.
The other cases recovered, and begged of Duncan not to log them.
The young acting-commander promised he would not, and they returned toduty.
It was a long and a tedious voyage to the Azores, but every one was forthe most part happy now, although still sad when they thought of theawful catastrophe which had caused such loss of life.
At the town where the _Ocean's Pride_ at last lay at anchor, additionalrepairs were made, and in due time Duncan sailed with a fair wind forEngland's shore.
It was the month of July when the ship was once more lying alongside thequay, and hearing of her terrible adventures the people crowded down inhundreds, and would have crowded on board, too, had not Duncan givenstrict orders that no one should cross the gangway, except on business.
This did not prevent reporters from getting over the side, however, andalthough Duncan was very reticent, the whole town was soon ringing withhis praise.
But the owners were still more delighted. The cargo was valued at fullyfive-and-twenty thousand pounds, and the young navigator had saved itall.
A meeting was held at which it was unanimously agreed to present Duncanwith the very handsome sum of one thousand, and his brother, who hadbeen but little less active than himself, with five hundred.
Duncan was indeed a happy young fellow now. But his good luck did notend here, for on the fourth day of the arrival of the _Ocean's Pride_,who should step on board but jolly Captain Talbot himself, and, neatlydressed in the uniform of a ship's apprentice, Frank walked alongside ofhim--on his port beam in fact.
That was a real happy meeting, as a Yankee would say.
Surely Frank never looked better nor more manly. He had lost all thelooks of the "tender-foot", and was well coloured and hardy.
And Talbot himself was as usual bronzed and jolly. The honest grip thathe gave Duncan's hand showed, too, that he was hearty and strong asever. It was not a few fingers that this bold sailor presented to afriend, but the whole hand.
"And how are you, my brick of a boy? But I needn't ask when I look i
ntothose bright eyes of yours. Ay, and I've heard of your clever doingstoo. Do you see the papers?"
"I haven't much time just at present," replied Duncan, "nor has Conalhere either."
"Ah, Conal, right glad to see you! But do you know that your brother isa hero? Why, all the newspapers from Land's End to John o' Groats aresinging his praises!"
"It won't make a bit of difference to Duncan, sir," said Conal, somewhatproudly.
"But really, Captain Talbot"--this from Duncan himself--"I don't knowwhat I should have done without Conal. But come into the saloon, sir,such as it is, for we were terribly knocked about."
"Yes, and it surprises me that you have got things so ship-shape againas you have. You've heard from your daddy?"
"Ay, and Florie too, and I'm going to run down for a spell as soon as Ican get paid off."
"And I'll go with you, and Frank here as well. Won't you, lad?"
"Like a hundredweight of gunpowder, sir, with a spark put to it."
"And now, sir, sit down; I have half an hour to spare. Steward, bringthe wine and biscuits. And how goes the project, Captain Talbot?"
"Getting on splendidly. I've formed a company, and nearly all theshares are sold, but really 'twixt you and me and the binnacle, boys,I've kept the most myself."
"Well," cried Conal laughing, "I and my brother are men of vast wealthnow--ahem!--we shall have all that is left."
"No, you mustn't part with all your doubloons. Just half. The othershall be put in a bank as a kind of nest-egg, don't you see?"
"Very well," said Duncan, "we always did take your advice, and so wewill now."
"That's right! Old Ben Talbot never gave a boy bad counsel yet."
"And the ship, sir?"
"Well, the ship's a barque, and a beauty she is. About eight hundredtons, and although not quite a clipper, she'll make up in strength whatshe'll lack in speed.
"A whaler she was," he continued, "but we have given her a rarecleaning. She's as sweet now as a nut. Double-skinned is she, and thebows all between the bends are solid teak, shod in front with iron. Butyou shall see her as soon as we haul out of dock."
"I'm taking two mates; both have passed and own certificates. You,Duncan, shall be acting third mate, and Conal I'll rate as auxiliary.You haven't neglected your studies, have you?"
"No, sir, and both myself and Conal mean to go in for our first exam, assoon as we get to London."
"Bravo! But I won't hinder you longer. Frank shall stay on with you abit, and I expect you all to come and dine with me to-night at my hotel.Can you?"
"All but me," said Conal. This wasn't quite grammatical, but it wastruth. "One of us must be ship-keeper."
"That's right. Never shirk your duty for anyone or anything. Do youremember the eulogy on Tom Bowling--when stark and stiff?"
And the pure and manly voice in which Talbot sang a verse of Dibdin'scelebrated song, proved that, though this true sailor was over fifty, hewas as hale and strong and hearty as many young fellows of twenty. Ay,and ten times more so, for at the present time thousands of lads ruintheir health at schools--_and not from study either_.
"His form was of the manliest beauty; His heart was kind and soft; Faithful below he did his duty, And now he's gone aloft."
Talbot was going, and Duncan was seeing him across the gangway.
"Oh, by the by," he said, still retaining his old friend's hand, "I'm aperfect fool."
"No, no, Duncan; there are other folks' opinions to be taken on thatsubject."
"But I was actually going to let you away without even asking the nameof your ship."
"Say our ship, my lad."
"Well, our ship."
"And you'd never guess her name, but your dear wee tot of a sisterchristened her, and the barque's name is the _Flora M'Vayne_."
"Well, I am pleased."
"To-night, then; six o'clock to a tick."
And away went the jolly skipper.