CHAPTER TWO.
THE VOYAGE AUSPICIOUSLY BEGUN AND PROMPTLY ENDED.
A voyage up the east coast of Great Britain and through the PentlandFirth does not usually take a long time. When the vessel is a swiftlittle schooner-yacht, and the breeze is stiff as well as fair, thevoyage is naturally a brief one.
Everything favoured the little _Fairy_. Sun, moon, and stars cheeredher, and winds were propitious, so that our voyagers soon foundthemselves skimming over the billows of the western sea.
It was one part of Mabberly's plan that he and his friends should doduty as part of the crew. He was himself accustomed to the handling ofyachts, and Barret he knew had been familiar with the management ofboats from childhood.
"You can steer, of course?" he had asked Giles Jackman almost as soon asthey were fairly at sea.
"Well, ye-es, oh yes. No doubt I could steer if I were to try."
"Have you never tried?" asked his friend in surprise.
"Oh yes, I have tried--once. It was on an occasion when a number of ushad gone on a picnic. We had to proceed part of the way to ourdestination by river in a small boat, which was managed by a regular oldsea-dog--I forget his name, for we generally hailed him by the title ofOld Salt. Some of the impatient members of the party suggested a littlepreliminary lunch. There are always people ready to back up impatientsuggestions! It was agreed to, and Old Salt was ordered to open theprovision basket, which had been stowed away in the bows of the boat.`Would you steer, sir?' said Old Salt to me, as he rose to go forward.`Certainly, with pleasure,' said I, for, as you know, it's an oldweakness of mine to be obliging! Well, in a few minutes they were alleating away as if they'd had no breakfast, while we went merrily downthe river, with the current and a light breeze in our favour.
"Suddenly Old Salt shouted something that was smothered in its passagethrough a bite of sandwich. I looked up, and saw a native canoe comingstraight towards us. `Port!' roared Old Salt, in an explosion thatcleared away half the sandwich. `No, thankee; I prefer sherry,' said I.But I stopped there, for I saw intuitively from the yell with which heinterrupted me that something was wrong. `_Hard_ a-port!' he cried,jumping up and scattering his rations. I shoved the tiller hard to theside that suggested itself, and hoped for the best. The worst followed,for we struck the native canoe amidships, as it was steering wildly outof our way, and capsized it! There were only two men in it, and theycould swim like ducks; but the river was full of alligators, and twosharp-set ones were on the scent instantly. It is my opinion that thosetwo natives would, then and there, have been devoured, if we had not runin between and made such a splashing and hullaballoo with boat-hook,oars, and voices, that the monsters were scared away. I have neversteered since that day."
"I don't wonder; and, with my consent, you shall not steer now," saidMabberly, laughing. "Why, Giles, I was under the impression that youunderstood everything, and could do almost anything!"
"Quite a mistake, Bob, founded in error or superstition. You haveconfused the will with the deed. I am indeed willing to try anything,but my capacity for action is limited, like my knowledge. In regard tothe higher mathematics, for instance, I know nothing. Copper-mining Ido not understand. I may say the same with reference to Tartarmythology, and as regards the management of infants under two years I amdensely ignorant."
"But do you really know nothing at all about boats and ships, Giles?"asked Barret, who, being a good listener, did not always shine as aspeaker.
"How can you ask such a question? Of course I know a great deal aboutthem. They float, they sail and row, they steer--"
"Rather badly sometimes, according to your own showing!" remarkedBarret.
Having cleared the Pentland Firth, Mabberly consulted the skipper onemorning as to the prospects of the weather. "Going to fall calm, Ifear," he said, as McPherson came aft with his hands in his pilot-coatpockets.
"Ay, sir, that iss true, what-e-ver."
To pronounce the last word correctly, the central "e" must be run into along-drawn, not an interjectional, sound.
"More-o-ver," continued the skipper, in his drawling nasal tone, "it'sgoin' to be thick."
Being a weather-wise man, the skipper proved to be right. It did comethick; then it cleared, and, as we have said, things became favourableuntil they got further out to sea. Then a fancy took possession ofMabberly--namely, to have a "spin out into the Atlantic and see how itlooked!" It mattered not to Jackman or Barret what they did or wherethey went; the first being exuberantly joyous, the other quietly happy.So they had their run out to sea; but twenty-four hours of it sufficed--it became monotonous.
"I think we'd better go back now," suggested Mabberly.
"Agreed," said his companions.
"Iss it goin' back you'll be?" asked the skipper.
"Yes. Don't you think we may as well turn now?" said Mabberly, who madeit a point always, if possible, to carry the approbation of the skipperwith him.
"I think it wass petter if we had niver come oot."
"Why so, Captain?"
"Because it's comin' on to plow. Putt her roond, Shames."
James McGregor, to whom the order was given, and who was the _other_ manof the crew, obeyed. The yacht, which had latterly been beating againsta headwind, now ran gaily before it towards the Scottish coast, but whennight closed in no outlying islands were visible.
"We wull hev to keep a sharp look-oot, Shames," remarked the skipper, ashe stopped in his monotonous perambulation of the deck to glance at thecompass.
"Oo, ay," responded McGregor, with the air of a man who knew that aswell as his superior.
"What do you fear?" asked Mabberly, coming on deck at the moment to takea look at the night before turning in.
"I fear naething, sir," replied McPherson, gravely.
"I mean, what danger threatens us?"
"None that I ken o'; but we're makin' the land, an' it behooves us toca' canny."
It may be well to remark here that the skipper, having voyaged much onall parts of the Scottish coast, had adopted and mixed up with his ownpeculiar English several phrases and words in use among the lowlandScots.
Next morning, when Mabberly again visited the deck, he found the skipperstanding on the same spot where he had left him, apparently in the sameattitude, and with the same grave, sleepless expression on his cast-ironfeatures. The boy, Robin Tips, was at the helm, looking very sleepy.He was an English boy, smart, active, and wide-awake--in the slangsense--in which sense also we may add that he was "cheeky."
But neither the skipper nor Tips was very visible at the distance ofthree yards, owing to a dense fog which prevailed. It was one of thosewhite, luminous, dry fogs which are not at all depressing to thespirits, though obstructive to the eyes, and which are generally, if notalways, accompanied by profound calm.
"Has it been like this long?" asked Mabberly, after the firstsalutations.
"Ay, sir, a coot while."
"And have we made no progress during the night?"
"Oo, ay, a coot bit. We should nae be far off some o' the islands noo,but it's hard to say, wi' naither sun, moon, nor stars veesible to letus fin' oot where we are."
Jackman and Barret came on deck at the moment, closely followed by Quin,who, quietly ignoring the owner of the yacht, went up to his master andsaid--
"Tay's riddy, sor."
"Breakfast, you mean," said Mabberly, with a smile.
"Sure I wouldn't conterdick--ye, sor, av ye was to call it supper--butit was tay that I put in the pot."
At breakfast the conversation somehow turned upon boats--ship's boats--and their construction.
"It is quite disgraceful," said Jackman, "the way in which Governmentneglects that matter of boats. Some things, we know, will never begenerally adopted unless men are compelled to adopt them. Anotherbiscuit, Barret."
"Instance something, Giles," said Mabberly, "and pass the butter. Ihate to hear sweeping assertions of an indefinite nature, which no onecan either corrobora
te or confute."
"Well, there is the matter of lowering boats into the water from aship's davits. Now, I'll be bound that the apparatus for lowering yourlittle punt astern is the ordinary couple of blocks--one at the stem,the other at the stern?"
"Of course it is. What then?"
"Why, then, don't you know what would happen if you were lowering thatboat full of people in a rough sea, and the man at the bow failed tounhook his block at the exact same moment as the man at the stern?"
"Yes, I know too well, Giles, for I have seen it happen. The boat, onthe occasion I refer to, was hung up by one of the blocks, all thepeople were dropped into the water, and several of the women andchildren drowned. But how is Government to remedy that?"
"Thus, Bob, thus. There is a splendid apparatus invented by somebodywhich holds fast the two blocks. By means of an iron lever worked by_one_ man, the rod is disengaged from both blocks at the same instant.You cannot work it wrong if you tried to do so. Now, the Government hasonly to compel the adoption of that apparatus in the Royal and MerchantNavies, and the thing is done."
"Then, again," continued Jackman, devouring food more ravenously inproportion as he warmed with his subject, "look at the matter of rafts.How constantly it happens that boats get swamped and lost while beinglaunched in cases of shipwreck at sea, and there is nothing left for thecrews and passengers, after the few remaining boats are filled, saveloose spars or a hastily and ill-made raft; for of course things cannotbe well planned and constructed in the midst of panic and suddenemergency. Now, it has been suggested, if not actually carried out,that mattresses should be made of cork, with bands and straps tofacilitate buckling them together, and that a ship's chairs, tables,camp-stools, etcetera, should be so constructed as to be convertibleinto rafts, which might be the means of saving hundreds of lives thatwould, under present arrangements, inevitably be lost. Why, I ask, doesnot Government see to this? have a special committee appointed toinvestigate, find out the best plan, and compel its adoption? Men willnever do this. They are too obstinate. What's wanted is that ourladies should take it up, and howl with indignation till it is done."
"My dear Giles, ladies never howl," said Barret, quietly tapping the endof an egg; "they smile, and gently insinuate--that is always sufficient,because irresistible!"
"Well, being a bachelor I cannot say much on that point," returnedJackman. "But I was not aware that _you_ were married?"
"Neither am I; but I have a mother and sisters, aunts and cousins, and Iknow their ways."
"If such are their ways, I must get you to introduce me to them," saidthe woods-and-forester. "Come on deck, now, and I will give you apractical illustration of what might be done."
Jackman, being an enthusiast, always went at things, "with a will."
"Bring me a hen-coop, Quin," he said to the steward, who, having so farcompleted his morning work, and consumed his morning meal, was smokinghis pipe, seated on the rail beside Tips. Tips was an admirer of theIrishman, and, in consequence, an imitator as far as he dared and waspermitted.
"Lend a hand, ye spalpeen," said Quin, going forward, and quicklyreturning with the coop, from which a cackling of strong remonstranceissued.
"Will ye have the other wan too, sor?"
"Yes, and the main-hatch besides, and a lot of spun-yarn. Of coursethat's not strong enough for real service, but it will do forillustration."
In a few minutes the two hen-coops were placed face to face and lashedfirmly together, despite the remonstrative poultry. Then the main-hatchwas laid upon the top, and fixed there by means of the iron rings at itsfour corners.
"Now, Quin, fetch four of the cabin chairs," said the operator, "andobserve, gentlemen, how much more easily and quickly this would havebeen accomplished if the coops, and hatch, and chairs had been made tofit into each other, with a view to this very purpose, with strongstraps and buckles in handy positions. Now, then, for the chairs."
At each corner of this extemporised raft Jackman fastened one of thecabin chairs, pointing out, as he did so, that there was no limit to theextension of the raft.
"You see," he continued, "all you would have to do, if the ship wereproperly fitted out, would be to add chair to chair, bench to bench,cork mattress to mattress, until your raft was as big as you wanted; oryou could make two or three rafts, if preferable."
"But sure, sor, it would be an unstiddy machine intirely, an' given towobblin'," said Quin, who was one of those privileged men who not onlywork for their wages, but generously throw their opinions into thebargain.
"It would not be more unsteady than the waves, Quin; and as to wobbling,that would be an advantage, for a rigid raft in a rough sea would bemore liable to be damaged than one that was pliable."
The discussion about rafts and ship's boats which thus began wascontinued with much interest till lunchtime, for it chanced that JohnBarret was one of those men whose tendency of heart and mind is to turneverything to its best uses, and generally to strive after the highestpoint of perfection in everything, with a view to the advancement ofhuman felicity. This tendency called into exercise his inventivefaculties, inducing him to search after improvements of alldescriptions. Thus it was natural that he and Jackman should enter intoa keen controversy, as to what was the best method of constructing theraft in detail; and that, when the faithful Quin announced lunch asbeing, "riddy, sor," the life-saving machine was left in an incompletestate on the deck.
The interest attaching to this discussion had helped the three comradesand crew alike, to tide over what might otherwise have proved a tediousforenoon, for during the whole of that day the dense fog and profoundcalm continued.
On returning to the deck the discussion was continued for a time, butgradually the interest flagged, then other subjects engaged attention,and the raft was finally allowed to lie undisturbed and forgotten.
"I don't know how it is," said Bob Mabberly; "but somehow I always feela depression of spirits in a fog at sea."
"Explanation simple enough," returned Jackman; "are we not constantlyreading in the papers of ships being run down in fogs? Where there isrisk there is always in some minds anxiety--in your case you call itdepression of spirits."
"Your explanation, Giles, uncomplimentary to me though it be, might havesome force if we were just now in the Channel, where being run down infog is an event of frequent occurrence; but here, in a comparativelyunfrequented sea, it would be strange indeed were I to be influenced bysuch possibilities. What say you, Captain?"
McPherson, who had sauntered towards the group, gazed in the directionwhere the horizon would have been visible had the fog been absent, andsaid:--
"Hm!--weel--" and then stopped, as if for the purpose of matureconsideration. The audience waited for the announcement of the oracle'sopinion.
"Oo ay--weel, ye see, many persons are strangely influenced bypossibeelities, what-e-ver. There is a maiden aunt o' my own--she wassniver marrit, an' she wass niver likely to be, for besides bein' pooran' plain, an' mittle-aged, which are not in my opeenion objectionable,she had an uncommon bad temper. Yet she wass all her life influenced bythe notion that half the young men o' the place wass wantin' to marryher! though the possibeelities in her case wass fery small."
"I should like to 'ave know'd that old gurl!" whispered Tips to Quin.
"Howld your tongue, ye spalpeen!" whispered his friend in reply.
"Have you any idea, Captain, where we are now?" asked Jackman.
"Oo ay, we're somewhere's wast'ard o' the Lewis. But whether wast,nor'-wast, or sooth-wast, I could not say preceesely. The nicht, yesee, wass uncommon dark, an' when the fog came doon i' the mornin', Icould na' feel sure we had keep it the richt coorse, for the currentshereaboots are strang. But we'll see whan it comes clear."
"Do you believe in presentiments, Giles?" asked Barret, in an unusuallygrave tone.
"Of course I do," answered Jackman. "I have a presentiment just nowthat you are going to talk nonsense."
Barret was
not, however, to be silenced by his friend's jest.
"Listen," he said, earnestly, as he rose and stood in an attitude ofintense attention. "It may be imagination playing with the subjects ofour recent conversation, but I cannot help thinking that I hear thebeating of paddles."
"Keep a sherp look-oot, Shames," cried the skipper, suddenly, as he wentforward with unwonted alacrity.
A few minutes more and the sound which had at first been distinguishedonly by Barret's sharp ear, became audible to all--the soft regularpatting of a paddle-wheel steamer in the distance, yet clearly comingtowards them. Presently a shrill sound, very faint but prolonged, washeard, showing that she was blowing her steam-whistle as a precaution.
"Strange, is it not, that the very thing we have been talking aboutshould happen?" said Mabberly.
"Nay," returned Jackman, lightly, "we were talking about being run down,and we have not yet come to that."
"The strangest thing of all to me," said Barret, "is that, with a wideocean all round, vessels should ever run into each other at all, atleast on the open sea, for there is only one line, a few feet wide, infavour of such an accident, whereas there are thousands of miles againstit."
Jackman, who was a great theorist, here propounded a reason for this.
"If vessels would only hold straight on their courses, you see," hesaid, "the accident of collision would be exceedingly rare, for,although thousands of ships might pass near to each other, not one inten thousand would meet; but when vessels come pretty near, theircommanders sometimes become anxious, take fancies into their heads, asto each having forgotten the `rules of the road,' and each attempting tocorrect the other--as we do sometimes in the streets--they bring aboutthe very disaster they are trying to avoid."
"Had we not better ring the bell, Captain?" cried Mabberly, in risingexcitement.
"Oo ay, if you think so, sir. Ring, poy!"
The boy, who was getting alarmed, seized the tongue of the ship's bell,and rang with all his might. Whether this had the effect to whichJackman had referred, we cannot tell, but next moment what appeared tobe a mountain loomed out of the mist. The steam-whistle had been silentfor some time, but as soon as the bell was heard it burst forth withincreased fury. From the instant her form was dimly seen the fate ofthe yacht was sealed. There was a wild shouting on board the steamer,but there was no time for action.
"Starboard hard!" was the cry.
"Starboard it is!" was the immediate answer. But before the helm couldact, the great rushing mass struck the _Fairy_ amidships, and literallycut her in two!
The awful suddenness of a catastrophe, which those on board had justbeen arguing was all but impossible, seemed to have paralysed every one,for no one made the slightest effort to escape. Perhaps the appearanceof the wall-like bow of the steamer, without rope or projection of anykind to lay hold of, or jump at, might have conveyed the swiftperception that their case was hopeless. At all events, they all wentunder with the doomed yacht, and nothing was left in the wake of theleviathan but a track of foam on the mist-encumbered sea.
But they were not lost! One after another the wrecked party rosestruggling to the surface, and all of them could swim except the boy.
Giles Jackman was the first who rose. Treading water and brushing thehair out of his eyes, he gazed wildly about. Barret came up closebeside him, almost a moment later. He had barely taken breath, when theothers rose at various distances. A cry not far from him caused him toturn. It was poor Robin Tips, struggling for life. A few powerfulstrokes carried Barret alongside. He got behind the boy, caught himunder the armpits, and thus held him, at arm's length, until he couldquiet him.
"There is a spar, thank God! Make for it, Barret, while I see to Quin,"shouted Jackman.
As he spoke, they could hear the whistle of the steamer rushing awayfrom them.
Barret, forcing himself breast-high out of the water, glanced quicklyround, and caught sight of the floating spar, to which his companion hadreferred. Although only a few yards off, the fog rendered it almostinvisible.
"Are you quiet now?" demanded Barret, in a stern voice, for theterrified boy still showed something like a hysterical determination toturn violently round, and grasp his rescuer in what would probably haveturned out to be the grip of death.
"Yes, sir, oh! yes. But d-don't let me go! M-mind, I can't swim!"
"You are perfectly safe if you simply do nothing but what I tell you,"returned Barret, in a quiet, ordinary tone of voice, that reassured thepoor lad more than the words.
By way of reply he suddenly became motionless, and as limp as a deadeel.
Getting gradually on his back, and drawing Tips slowly on to his chest,so that he rested with his mouth upwards, and his head entirely out ofthe water, Barret struck out for the spar, swimming thus on his back.
On reaching it, he found to his surprise that it was the experimentalraft, and that the captain, Mabberly, and McGregor were already clingingto it.
"Won't bear us all, I fear," said Mabberly; "but thank God that we haveit. Put the boy on."
In order to do this, Barret had to get upon the raft, and he found thatit bore him easily as well as the boy.
"Have you seen Jackman?" asked Mabberly.
"Yes," replied Barret, rising and looking round.
"Here he comes, towing Quin, I think, who seems to be stunned. Hallo!This way--hi! Giles!"
But Giles suddenly ceased to swim, turned over on his back, and lay asif dead.
"Rescue, Bob, rescue!" shouted Barret, plunging into the water.Mabberly followed, and soon had hold of Giles and his man by the hair.
"All right!" said Jackman, turning round; "I was only taking a rest. Noone lost, I hope?"
"No; all safe, so far."
"You can tow him in now. I'm almost used up," said Jackman, making forthe raft. "He's only stunned, I think."
It was found that the Irishman had in truth been only stunned when theylifted him on to the raft, for he soon began to show signs of returninglife, and a large bump on his head sufficiently explained the nature ofhis injury.
But when the whole party had cautiously clambered up on the raft it sankso deep that they scarcely dared to move. To make matters worse, theyclearly distinguished the steamer's whistle going farther and fartheraway, as if she were searching for them in a wrong direction. This wasindeed the case, and although they all shouted singly and together, thewhistle grew fainter by degrees, and finally died away.
With feelings approaching to despair, the crew of the frail raft beganto talk of the prospect before them, when they were silenced by a slightmovement in the mist. The white curtain was lifted for a few yards, andrevealed to their almost incredulous eyes a rocky shore, backed by arange of precipitous cliffs, with a wild mountainous region beyond.
As the sea was still perfectly calm, there was no surf. Our castaways,therefore, with the exception of Quin and the boy, quietly slipped intothe water, and, with thankful hearts, propelled the raft vigorouslytowards the shore.