CHAPTER NINE.
I DETERMINE TO RETURN TO NEW ORLEANS--A DRUNKEN CAPTAIN--SAM SNAG, THEMULATTO MATE--A HURRICANE AND WRECK--A NIGHT OF HORRORS.
I had seen enough of life in the outskirts of Texas to satisfy me forthe present, and as I had gone there, not from choice, but because itwas the country I could most easily reach when it was necessary to runaway from New Orleans, I felt that I could beat a retreat without lossof self-respect. Therefore, accompanied by Peter and Ready, I returnedby the way I had come, without any adventure worthy of note, toGalveston.
I found a vessel, the _Weathercock_, Captain Parsons, sailingimmediately for New Orleans, and, in an unfortunate moment, as itproved, took my passage in her. I supposed that after the lapse of somany months I should no longer be recognised in New Orleans, and havingpurposed to push up the Mississippi to its sources, I did not like to bebaulked, and so determined to chance it. Ready was evidently pleased atfinding himself again on salt water, but poor Peter was veryuncomfortable.
"I hope we shan't fall in with them black fellows as cut all our throatsafore," he remarked, as he gazed on the fast-receding land. "I do wish,sir, you'd tramp it back overland to Old England."
Peter's knowledge of geography was very limited, and I thought itscarcely worth while to explain to him that he proposed animpossibility.
"It would be a long tramp, even if there were a bridge; but as there isno bridge just now, nor likely to be for some time, we must e'en go backas we came," said I. "But as we've a good many more places to seefirst, I cannot promise you a sight of the white cliffs of Old Englandfor some long time to come, Peter. However, if you are afraid to go on,I will either find you employment in America, or put you on board thefirst homeward-bound ship we fall in with."
Peter looked up at me with a half-reproachful glance as he answered--
"No, no, sir. You wouldn't wish me to go and take service with anystrangers in these foreign parts; and in the old country there's no homefor me now--all those who made it home are gone. No, no, sir, you'd notwish me to leave you."
"Certainly not, my lad; but I thought that you might be afraid of goingon," I remarked.
"Afraid when I am with you, sir!" he exclaimed, in a tone which showedhow much his feelings were hurt at the supposition. "No, no, sir; I'llstick by you through thick and thin, now and ever, till you turn meaway."
I was sure that Peter felt what he said, and setting as I do a highvalue on a faithful friend, however humble he may be, I assured him thathe need be under no apprehension that I should part with him without hisconsent.
This tranquillised him, and he seemed at once to become reconciled tohis life on the heaving wave.
I soon discovered that the _Weathercock_ was far from deserving thecharacter which her agents gave her of a fine clipper sea-boat, and thatCaptain Parsons was a different sort of person to what he had beendescribed. He was not drunk when he came on board, but he very soon gotso; and if he turned out sober in the morning, he took care very quicklyto reduce himself to a condition of utter indifference to all sublunaryaffairs. As may be supposed, therefore, he did not make a very directcourse for his destination.
While the weather remained fine, this did not so much signify, as a dayor two more at sea was of little consequence to me, and I knew that wecould not well miss the yellow water at the mouth of the Mississippi;but should it come on to blow--no impossible contingency--we should, Isaw, be placed in a very unpleasant predicament. Still there was nohelp for it; the skipper would not have put back had I asked him, butvery likely, in a drunken fit, might have blown my brains out, orpitched Peter overboard.
The mate was likely to prove a more formidable opponent. He was a hugeMulatto, with a villainous expression of countenance. From my firststepping on board, he seemed to have taken a dislike to me. It mighthave been because he saw that I was a man not likely to stand nonsense.He dared not show it to me, however; but whenever he had an opportunity,I saw that he gave Peter a cuff and Ready a kick, which, as may besupposed, secured the latter as an enemy, though poor Peter was tookind-hearted to indulge in ill-feeling towards any human being. SamSnag, the fellow was called, and he tyrannised over the crew, who darednot disobey his least command, and even the captain held him in awe, anddisliked him; but they were necessary to each other. Sam Snag, though agood seaman, knew nothing of navigation, and therefore could not get thecommand of a vessel, and so he had to ship as mate, and preferredserving with a man like Parsons, whom he could govern, rather than withone who would govern him.
Why the mate had allowed the captain to get as drunk as he was puzzledme. I could not help suspecting that he had some sinister object inview.
Three days had passed since we left Galveston, and the only notable factwith regard to our navigation was, that, though we had lost sight of theland, we had made very little progress. There lay the vessel on theglassy shining sea, her sails flapping idly, but with now and then loudreports, against the masts. The captain was perfectly contented, andrather amiably-disposed towards me; for, as he sat in his little hot,stifling cabin--the atmosphere of which could not have been much under ahundred degrees--he sent his boy to ask me to come and liquor with him,and began to be very abusive when I declined the honour.
"That sneaking, white-haired, milksop of a Britisher--what business hashe to refuse my civilities, I should like to know? It's his naturalpride, I guess, but I'll pull it down a peg or two before I've done withhim, I guess," I heard him muttering as I sat reading on deck near theskylight under the shade of the mainsail.
He continued to drink and growl on, and as he got more and more drunk,he confused me with Snag, and abused both of us. From the language heoccasionally used, and one or two expressions he let fall, I suspectedthat the unhappy man had fallen from a higher position in society tothat which he now occupied. Now he quoted a line of Latin or Greek, andnow he spoke in some Oriental language, Hindostanee or Arabic, Ifancied, and swore in it fiercely, and then gave way to fits of idioticlaughter. Yes, I was certain that man had ranked as a gentleman, andnow in appearance and manners he was the veriest brute under the sun.
"That's what drink has done for him," I said to myself: "or crime, andthen drink to drown conscience; or probably drink produced the crime,and then, instead of repentance, came the more drink, that he might tryand forget the crime. I am not in a pleasant position with thecompanionship of a set of ruffians. However, I have been in many ascrape before, and have got out of them. I hope that I may get out ofthis as well as I have done out of others."
As the day grew on, however, I became more anxious. The heat increaseduntil it became almost unnatural and utterly insupportable, and the skyassumed a lurid, brazen hue, which struck me as indicative of anapproaching hurricane, or a gale of some sort. I observed the seamencasting anxious glances every now and then at the horizon, but no movewas made among them to do anything; the mate was below asleep, and themaster was too drunk by this time to know whether the sky wascopper-colour, black, or blue, or to care what might become of the shipand all on board.
At last, having thought over all the descriptions I had read ofhurricanes, I myself began to grow uneasy, and resolved to summon themate, though I knew that I ran the risk of a quarrel in consequence. Iput my head down the companion-hatch, and called out his name two orthree times. The stifling air which came up from below made meunwilling to descend. The mate did not reply. He must be sleeping verysoundly, I thought, or else he does not choose to answer. Peter,finding he did not appear, without my leave sprang down below, saying,as he did so, "I'll rouse him up a bit, sir."
"I say, mate--Mister Snag--wake up, will you? Wake up, Mister Snag," Iheard him sing out.
There was no reply for a minute, and then came a cry of pain and terror,and poor Peter reappeared faster than he had gone down, with anexpression of alarm on his countenance, followed by the mate, who had athick colt in his hand, with which he was accustomed to belabour any ofthe crew who offended him.
"For what you make all dat row?" he exclaimed fiercely, turning to mewith a threatening gesture.
"To wake you up, and remind you of your duty," I answered, in as calm atone as I could command. "Look out there; what do you say to that sky?"
The mate gave a hurried glance round the horizon. He did not answer me,but he shouted--
"Aloft, all of ye! Furl the topsails. Let fly topgallants sheets.Here, you--Britisher, go to the helm, and do as I bid you. You, whiteboy, stand by those ropes."
There was no time for further orders. The men flew aloft. They knewwhat ought to be done; but before they could do it the hurricane burstus. With desperate energy they attempted to gather in the furiouslyflapping canvas. As Snag directed I turned round the spokes of thewheel, and as the ship's head was providentially pointing in thedirection towards which the hurricane blew, away she flew before it,like a bird just escaping from the nets of the fowler. Had this notbeen the case, she would probably have instantly been thrown on herbeam-ends. I had to exert all my strength to turn the wheel. I kept myeye on Snag, for not a word could I hear, as he rushed from rope torope, hauling away with Peter on some, and letting go others.
The sails flapped and struggled with claps like thunder, as the blastcaught them, till the vexed canvas tore itself out of the bolt-ropes.The masts bent and trembled, the yards strained and cracked. I lookedup for a moment; I knew that the poor fellows aloft were in instantperil of their lives. They clung desperately to the yielding yards--clung for their lives--for the rent sails lashed furiously round them,and they scarcely dared to loose their hold for an instant to move intowards the masts. Most of them had lost their hats or caps, their hairwas streaming out, their eyeballs starting from their heads.
A wild shriek reached my ears, even through the terrific din of thetempest. I caught a glimpse of the outer man on the fore-topsail-yardas the leech of the sail, torn to ribbons, coiled itself like some hugeserpent round him, and tore him from his hold. In vain he tried toregain his hold, in vain to extricate himself--no human power couldavail him. Helplessly he stretched out his arms; the fierce windunloosened the coil of canvas, and, though grasping at a rope whicheluded his hand, he was flung into the seething waters through which thebrig was rushing onwards. For one instant I caught a sight of hiscountenance, as, still desperately struggling for life, he droppedastern, while the vessel flew by him. The mate saw what had happened,but took not the slightest notice. I thought Peter would have jumpedoverboard in his eagerness to try and save the man. He threw a rope,but it was utterly useless. Even had the poor wretch caught it, itwould have been torn out of his hands. When Peter was certain that theman was hopelessly lost, I saw him wring his hands in sorrow, and he wasevidently giving utterance to his feelings in words, though what he saidof course I could not hear.
Even the gale did not bring the wretched master to his senses, but Ifancied that I could hear him singing, or rather howling away in hisdrunken madness, keeping up a wild concert with the creaking of thebulkheads, the rattling of the blocks, the whistling of the wind throughthe rigging, and the loud roar of the rising seas, as they dashedagainst the sides of the vessel. The mate, to do him justice, was theonly man of the whole crew who remained calm and collected. How hemight have behaved aloft I do not know; still I think he would have beenthe same. He soon saw that it was impossible for the men to furl thecanvas--or, rather, that there was no canvas left for them to furl. Hemade a signal to them to come down off the yards. It was not given toosoon. Some obeyed, and slid down on deck, but before the last two onthe main topsail-yard were off it, the main-top mast, which had alreadybeen bending ready to crack, gave way and went over the side, carryingthe rigging, and the yard, and the two men on it, overboard. They werenot shaken off, but still they clung with all the energy of despair tothe spar. It was but for a moment. There were several loud cracks,some ropes gave way, the bolts which secured the shrouds to the sidewere drawn, and the whole mass of rigging, parting from the side,floated astern. In vain the men shrieked for help; in vain they heldout their hands to us imploringly; no help could be given them, theirfate might presently be ours.
The next minute the fore-topmasts went over the side, and the fore-yardcame down with a crash on deck, carrying away the bulwarks, and crushinga man who had just descended from aloft, and thought he was in safety.There he lay writhing under it, and unable to extricate himself. Iwould have hurried to his assistance, but I dared not leave the helm,and Snag and the other men were so engaged in clearing the rest of thewreck, that they could make no attempt to lift up the yard so as torelease him. It was dreadful to watch the poor fellow, as, with themovement of the ship, the heavy yard rolled on his broken limbs,inflicting the most excruciating torture. He shrieked out in his agony,entreating his companions either to release him or to put an end to hissufferings with a crowbar--so Peter told me, for his voice was borne faraway from me on the wings of the hurricane. Peter, as soon as he sawwhat had occurred, in spite of the gestures of the mate ordering him toremain where he was, hurried forward. Still his whole strength couldnot, of course, move the spar; but getting hold of a handspike, he wasable to prevent it from rolling over the man as often as before. Everymoment the sea was rising, and as the vessel pitched more and more, thedifficulty of keeping the yard off the man became greater.
At last the wreck, by means of axes and knives was cleared, and the matehad no longer on excuse for neglecting the seaman who lay under theyard. With careless indifference he directed the other men how to liftthe spar so as to drag out the sufferer.
"He's of no further use," he exclaimed (so Peter told me) when he sawthe injury the man had received. "May as well heave him overboard atonce. We can't mend broken legs here."
"Oh, no; no, don't now!" shrieked the poor wretch, who was probably notaware of the extent to which he was hurt. "I shall soon be well. I'llwork; I'll work. Oh spare me!--spare! I am not fit to die! I'll getwell and work. Will nobody save me? I can't die; I mustn't die!"
"That's what many more say, but it's of no use," growled out the mate.
Peter told me that on hearing this he could not help saying:
"Well, if you throw that poor fellow overboard while he's got life inhim, you may as well throw me and my master; for as sure as ever we getinto port, we'll go and tell the magistrate of you."
The mate, with a look of surprise, gave a scornful laugh, but allowedPeter to draw the wounded man on one side, while he and the crew securedthe spar, and passed life-lines forward where the bulwarks had beencarried away.
I witnessed all that was taking place from my post aft, and as the matesaw that I could steer the vessel properly, he did not think fit torelieve me. I shouted to him over and over again to send a hand to thehelm, but he either did not, or would not, hear me. As to where I wassteering I had little conception. All I knew was that I was keeping theship's head away from the wind, for I had not thought of looking at thecompass at first, and a block had fallen from aloft and broken in thebinnacle.
The mate, I knew, was as ignorant as I was, and should the master notrecover his senses, I suspected that we should have some difficulty infinding our way to New Orleans. There was a vast deal still to be donein getting the ship as much to rights as circumstances would allow, and,to do the mate justice, he worked himself, and made all under him workalso.
On the ship flew under the bare stumps of the masts--they, I expected,would go next, as there were no shrouds to support them. The tortured,foaming waters rose higher and higher as the hurricane increased instrength and had longer time to affect them; and the higher the seasrose, the more the ship laboured, and the more difficult it was tosteer, till my arms ached with the exertion, and I felt that if notrelieved I must leave my post.
I shouted--I beckoned--to Snag, but though I was certain he saw me, hetook no notice of my signs. At last Peter found his way to me, notwithout difficulty, and I sent him forward to summon one of the crew.The mate guessed his errand, a
nd received him with a kick, and an orderto tell me to remain where I was and make myself useful. Life is sweet,and we cling to it as long as we can; or otherwise, under the beliefthat the ship was hurrying to destruction, I should have thrown myselfon deck, and let her broach to, which would probably at once havebrought about the catastrophe. I was directing Peter to go back andhelp the poor wounded man, to drag him aft, if possible, and to get himdown below, when there was a cry from forward. A huge sea came rollingup alongside, and (whether or not from my bad steering, I do not know)it broke on board, and, sweeping across the fore part of the deck,carried in its grasp all it reached. Two of the crew could be seen foran instant battling with the foaming seas, as if there was a possibilityof their regaining the ship.
When once more the deck was free of water, the poor wounded man haddisappeared. "He was surely taken in mercy, for his sufferings wouldotherwise have been fearful," I said to myself. I was now glad to getPeter's assistance, which he willingly gave; while honest Ready lay atmy feet, looking up every now and then into my face, and saying in hisown peculiar language, "Master, I wish that I could help you; but Icouldn't, I know--not if I was to try ever so much." But Ready could beof use, even on board ship. Another huge sea came up, and this time,striking the quarters, it deluged the whole after-part of the vessel. Iclung to the wheel, but Peter, less prepared, lost his hold of thewheel, and was carried away. Ready, instantly comprehending his danger,dashed after him, and seizing on the leg of his trousers as he laythrown on his back, with the certainty of either being washed overboardor drowned in the lee-scuppers, dragged him up out of the water, andheld him tight, till at length the mate, if not for my sake, for that ofthe ship, came aft to the wheel, and I was able to go to the rescue ofmy faithful follower.
Snag, though unconcerned for the loss of our companions, could notconceal from himself the danger we were in, and the probability thatbefore long their fate would overtake him. He was as fierce andsulky-looking as before; but he said nothing, and I made no markcalculated to provoke his anger. The crew had done all that waspossible for the safety of the ship, and the remnant now gathered underthe after-bulwarks, awaiting what was next to happen.
The hatches had been put on, or they might possibly have gone below andturned into their berths--there to await their fate, as I have knownseamen do. Night was coming on; but even that could scarcely add to thehorrors of our position, except that perhaps darkness might rendersteering more difficult. As the mate stood alone at the helm in thegloom of evening, his hair, which was long, streaming in the wind, hisneck bare, his dark countenance expressive of fierce and bad passions,his tall figure, the upper part of which was scarcely hid by the shirt--the only garment he wore besides his loose trousers--I thought that Ihad never seen a more perfect impersonification of some evil spirit. Iscarcely, even now, like to recall the horrors of that night: the lastsight on which my eyes rested was that demon-looking man steering theshattered vessel--amid the howling of the winds, the roaring of theseas--as it appeared, to inevitable destruction. Peter, Ready, and Icrouched together under the bulwarks, holding on by lines secured toring-bolts in the deck, and drenched by the seas which were constantlybreaking over us. The darkness increased till it was impossible to seeacross the deck; nor could I even distinguish those nearest to me. Theroaring waters continued sounding in my ears: frequently I felt myselfunder them as they broke over the ship; again I felt as if I could notpossibly hold on longer, but with desperation I clutched the rope as theseas washed by, and had to be thankful that I had for the moment escapedthe death which threatened me. Peter's shout, close to my ear, of "Allright, sir," assured me that he and Ready had also escaped; for bothwere hanging on to the same rope, the latter holding it by his teethwith might and main, evidently as sensible as we were of the perilousposition in which we were placed.
Hour after hour passed by, and no change occurred in the dreary monotonyof that night of horror. I think that I must have dropped asleep for aninstant, strange as that may seem; for a feeling of indifference as towhat might happen had stolen over me, and unconsciousness of thepresent, when I was startled by the cry of "She's sprung a leak!--she'ssinking! We are lost--we are lost!"
The voice of the mate was heard, even above the hurricane. "Lost! Whosays we're lost?" he shouted. "We shall not be lost if you'll work likemen. All hands to the pumps!"
The dismasted vessel flew on as rapidly as before through the foaming,tossing seas. The crew laboured at the pumps, the mate swearingfuriously at them, when, as at times, they stopped to rest. Then againthey pumped away till one of them cried out, in a tone of obstinatedespair:
"The leak is gaining on us; we can pump no more." Again the mate swore,and threatened them with death if they did not persist.
Suddenly, while the mate and the crew together were shouting andswearing at each other, there came a fearful crash; the ship trembled inevery timber; another and another crash followed; the roaring sea washedover the vessel; now she lifted, and then down she came with yet morefearful force than before, and every plank and timber seemed rentasunder.