CHAPTER V.
"She rights! she rights, boys! ware off shore!" _Song._
The extraordinary activity of Griffith, which communicated itself withpromptitude to the crew, was produced by a sudden alteration in theweather. In place of the well-defined streak along the horizon, that hasbeen already described, an immense body of misty light appeared to bemoving in, with rapidity, from the ocean, while a distinct but distantroaring announced the sure approach of the tempest that had so longtroubled the waters. Even Griffith, while thundering his orders throughthe trumpet, and urging the men, by his cries, to expedition, wouldpause, for instants, to cast anxious glances in the direction of thecoming storm; and the faces of the sailors who lay on the yards wereturned, instinctively, towards the same quarter of the heavens, whilethey knotted the reef-points, or passed the gaskets that were to confinethe unruly canvas to the prescribed limits.
The pilot alone, in that confused and busy throng, where voice roseabove voice, and cry echoed cry, in quick succession, appeared as if heheld no interest in the important stake. With his eye steadily fixedon the approaching mist, and his arms folded together in composure, hestood calmly waiting the result.
The ship had fallen off, with her broadside to the sea, and wasbecome unmanageable, and the sails were already brought into the foldsnecessary to her security, when the quick and heavy fluttering of canvaswas thrown across the water, with all the gloomy and chilling sensationsthat such sounds produce, where darkness and danger unite to appall theseaman.
"The schooner has it!" cried Griffith: "Barnstable has held on, likehimself, to the last moment.--God send that the squall leave him clothenough to keep him from the shore!"
"His sails are easily handled," the commander observed, "and she must beover the principal danger. We are falling off before it, Mr. Gray; shallwe try a cast of the lead?"
The pilot turned from his contemplative posture, and moved slowly acrossthe deck before he returned any reply to this question--like a man whonot only felt that everything depended on himself, but that he was equalto the emergency.
"'Tis unnecessary," he at length said; "'twould be certain destructionto be taken aback; and it is difficult to say, within several points,how the wind may strike us."
"'Tis difficult no longer," cried Griffith; "for here it comes, and inright earnest!"
The rushing sounds of the wind were now, indeed, heard at hand; andthe words were hardly past the lips of the young lieutenant, before thevessel bowed down heavily to one side, and then, as she began to movethrough the water, rose again majestically to her upright position, asif saluting, like a courteous champion, the powerful antagonist withwhich she was about to contend. Not another minute elapsed, beforethe ship was throwing the waters aside, with a lively progress, and,obedient to her helm, was brought as near to the desired course as thedirection of the wind would allow. The hurry and bustle on the yardsgradually subsided, and the men slowly descended to the deck, allstraining their eyes to pierce the gloom in which they were enveloped,and some shaking their heads, in melancholy doubt, afraid to express theapprehensions they really entertained. All on board anxiously waited forthe fury of the gale; for there were none so ignorant or inexperiencedin that gallant frigate, as not to know that as yet they only felt theinfant effects of the wind. Each moment, however, it increased in power,though so gradual was the alteration, that the relieved mariners beganto believe that all their gloomy forebodings were not to be realized.During this short interval of uncertainty, no other sounds were heardthan the whistling of the breeze, as it passed quickly through the massof rigging that belonged to the vessel, and the dashing of the spraythat began to fly from her bows, like the foam of a cataract.
"It blows fresh," cried Griffith, who was the first to speak in thatmoment of doubt and anxiety; "but it is no more than a capful of windafter all. Give us elbow-room, and the right canvas, Mr. Pilot, and I'llhandle the ship like a gentleman's yacht, in this breeze."
"Will she stay, think ye, under this sail?" said the low voice of thestranger.
"She will do all that man, in reason, can ask of wood and iron,"returned the lieutenant; "but the vessel don't float the ocean that willtack under double-reefed topsails alone, against a heavy sea. Helpher with her courses, pilot, and you shall see her come round like adancing-master."
"Let us feel the strength of the gale first," returned the man who wascalled Mr. Gray, moving from the side of Griffith to the weather gangwayof the vessel, where he stood in silence, looking ahead of the ship,with an air of singular coolness and abstraction.
All the lanterns had been extinguished on the deck of the frigate, whenher anchor was secured, and as the first mist of the gale had passedover, it was succeeded by a faint light that was a good deal aided bythe glittering foam of the waters, which now broke in white curls aroundthe vessel in every direction. The land could be faintly discerned,rising like a heavy bank of black fog above the margin of the waters,and was only distinguishable from the heavens by its deeper gloom andobscurity. The last rope was coiled, and deposited in its proper place,by the seamen, and for several minutes the stillness of death pervadedthe crowded decks. It was evident to every one, that their shipwas dashing at a prodigious rate through the waves; and as she wasapproaching, with such velocity, the quarter of the bay where the shoalsand dangers were known to be situated, nothing but the habits of themost exact discipline could suppress the uneasiness of the officers andmen within their own bosoms. At length the voice of Captain Munson washeard, calling to the pilot:
"Shall I send a hand into the chains, Mr. Gray," he said, "and try ourwater?"
Although this question was asked aloud, and the interest it excited drewmany of the officers and men around him, in eager impatience for hisanswer, it was unheeded by the man to whom it was addressed. His headrested on his hand, as he leaned over the hammock-cloths of the vessel,and his whole air was that of one whose thoughts wandered from thepressing necessity of their situation. Griffith was among those who hadapproached the pilot; and after waiting a moment, from respect, to hearthe answer to his commander's question, he presumed on his own rank, andleaving the circle that stood at a little distance, stepped to the sideof the mysterious guardian of their lives.
"Captain Munson desires to know whether you wish a cast of the lead?"said the young officer, with a little impatience of manner. No immediateanswer was made to this repetition of the question, and Griffith laidhis hand unceremoniously on the shoulder of the other, with an intentto rouse him before he made another application for a reply, but theconvulsive start of the pilot held him silent in amazement.
"Fall back there," said the lieutenant, sternly; to the men, who wereclosing around them in compact circle; "away with you to your stations,and see all clear for stays." The dense mass of heads dissolved, at thisorder, like the water of one of the waves commingling with the ocean,and the lieutenant and his companions were left by themselves.
"This is not a time for musing, Mr. Gray," continued Griffith; "rememberour compact, and look to your charge--is it not time to put the vesselin stays? of what are you dreaming?"
The pilot laid his hand on the extended arm of the lieutenant, andgrasped it with a convulsive pressure, as he answered:
"'Tis a dream of reality. You are young, Mr. Griffith, nor am I past thenoon of life; but should you live fifty years longer, you never cansee and experience what I have encountered in my little period ofthree-and-thirty years!"
A good deal astonished at this burst of feeling, so singular at such amoment, the young sailor was at a loss for a reply; but as his dutywas uppermost in his thoughts, he still dwelt on the theme that mostinterested him.
"I hope much of your experience has been on this coast, for the shiptravels lively," he said, "and the daylight showed us so much to dread,that we do not feel over-valiant in the dark. How much longer shall westand on, upon this tack?"
The pilot turned slowly from the side of the vessel, and walked towardsthe commander of the frigate
, as he replied, in a tone that seemeddeeply agitated by his melancholy reflections:
"You have your wish, then; much, very much of my early life was passedon this dreaded coast. What to you is all darkness and gloom, to me isas light as if a noon-day sun shone upon it. But tack your ship, sir,tack your ship; I would see how she works before we reach the pointwhere she _must_ behave well, or we perish."
Griffith gazed after him in wonder, while the pilot slowly paced thequarter-deck, and then, rousing from his trance, gave forth the cheeringorder that called each man to his station, to perform the desiredevolution. The confident assurances which the young officer had given tothe pilot respecting the qualities of his vessel and his own ability tomanage her, were fully realized by the result. The helm was no soonerput a-lee, than the huge ship bore up gallantly against the wind, and,dashing directly through the waves, threw the foam high into the air,as she looked boldly into the very eye of the wind; and then, yieldinggracefully to its power, she fell off on the other tack, with her headpointed from those dangerous shoals that she had so recently approachedwith such terrifying velocity. The heavy yards swung round, as if theyhad been vanes to indicate the currents of the air; and in a few momentsthe frigate again moved, with stately progress, through the water,leaving the rocks and shoals behind her on one side of the bay, butadvancing towards those that offered equal danger on the other.
During this time the sea was becoming more agitated, and the violenceof the wind was gradually increasing. The latter no longer whistled amidthe cordage of the vessel, but it seemed to howl, surlily, as it passedthe complicated machinery that the frigate obtruded on its path. Anendless succession of white surges rose above the heavy billows, andthe very air was glittering with the light that was disengaged from theocean. The ship yielded, each moment, more and more before the storm,and in less than half an hour from the time that she had lifted heranchor, she was driven along with tremendous fury by the full power of agale of wind. Still the hardy and experienced mariners who directedher movements held her to the course that was necessary to theirpreservation, and still Griffith gave forth, when directed by theirunknown pilot, those orders that turned her in the narrow channel wherealone safety was to be found.
So far, the performance of his duty appeared easy to the stranger, andhe gave the required directions in those still, calm tones, that formedso remarkable a contrast to the responsibility of his situation. Butwhen the land was becoming dim, in distance as well as darkness, and theagitated sea alone was to be discovered as it swept by them in foam, hebroke in upon the monotonous roaring of the tempest with the sounds ofhis voice, seeming to shake off his apathy, and rouse himself to theoccasion.
"Now is the time to watch her closely, Mr. Griffith," he cried; "here weget the true tide and the real danger. Place the best quartermaster ofyour ship in those chains, and let an officer stand by him, and see thathe gives us the right water."
"I will take that office on myself," said the captain; "pass a lightinto the weather main-chains."
"Stand by your braces!" exclaimed the pilot, with startling quickness."Heave away that lead!"
These preparations taught the crew to expect the crisis, and everyofficer and man stood in fearful silence, at his assigned station,awaiting the issue of the trial. Even the quartermaster at the cun gaveout his orders to the men at the wheel, in deeper and hoarser tones thanusual, as if anxious not to disturb the quiet and order of the vessel.
While this deep expectation pervaded the frigate, the piercing cry ofthe leadsman, as he called "By the mark seven," rose above the tempest,crossed over the decks, and appeared to pass away to leeward, borne onthe blast like the warnings of some water-spirit.
"'Tis well," returned the pilot, calmly; "try it again."
The short pause was succeeded by another cry, "And a half-five!"
"She shoals! she shoals!" exclaimed Griffith: "keep her a good full."
"Ay! you must hold the vessel in command, now," said the pilot, withthose cool tones that are most appalling in critical moments becausethey seem to denote most preparation and care.
The third call, "By the deep four," was followed by a prompt directionfrom the stranger to tack.
Griffith seemed to emulate the coolness of the pilot, in issuing thenecessary orders to execute this manoeuvre.
The vessel rose slowly from the inclined position into which she hadbeen forced by the tempest, and the sails were shaking violently, as ifto release themselves from their confinement, while the ship stemmedthe billows, when the well-known voice of the sailing-master was heardshouting from the forecastle:
"Breakers! breakers, dead ahead!"
This appalling sound seemed yet to be lingering about the ship, when asecond voice cried:
"Breakers on our lee bow!"
"We are in a bite of the shoals, Mr. Gray," cried the commander. "Sheloses her way; perhaps an anchor might hold her."
"Clear away that best bower!" shouted Griffith through his trumpet.
"Hold on!" cried the pilot, in a voice that reached the very hearts ofall who heard him; "hold on everything."
The young man turned fiercely to the daring stranger who thus defied thediscipline of his vessel, and at once demanded:
"Who is it that dares to countermand my orders? Is it not enough thatyou run the ship into danger, but you must interfere to keep her there?If another word----"
"Peace, Mr. Griffith," interrupted the captain, bending from therigging, his gray locks blowing about in the wind and adding a lookof wildness to the haggard care that he exhibited by the light of hislantern; "yield the trumpet to Mr. Gray; he alone can save us."
Griffith threw his speaking-trumpet on the deck, and as he walkedproudly away, muttered in bitterness of feeling:
"Then all is lost, indeed! and among the rest the foolish hopes withwhich I visited this coast."
There was, however, no time for reply; the ship had been rapidly runninginto the wind, and as the efforts of the crew were paralyzed by thecontradictory orders they had heard, she gradually lost her way, and ina few seconds all her sails were taken aback.
Before the crew understood their situation the pilot had applied thetrumpet to his mouth, and in a voice that rose above the tempest, hethundered forth his orders. Each command was given distinctly, and witha precision that showed him to be master of his profession. The helmwas kept fast, the head-yards swung up heavily against the wind, and thevessel was soon whirling round on her heel, with a retrograde movement.
Griffith was too much of a seaman not to perceive that the pilothad seized, with a perception almost intuitive, the only method thatpromised to extricate the vessel from her situation. He was young,impetuous, and proud--but he was also generous. Forgetting hisresentment and his mortification, he rushed forward among the men, and,by his presence and example, added certainty to the experiment. Theship fell off slowly before the gale, and bowed her yards nearly to thewater, as she felt the blast pouring its fury on her broadside, whilethe surly waves beat violently against her stern, as if in reproach atdeparting from her usual manner of moving.
The voice of the pilot, however, was still heard, steady and calm, andyet so clear and high as to reach every ear; and the obedient seamenwhirled the yards at his bidding in despite of the tempest, as if theyhandled the toys of their childhood. When the ship had fallen off deadbefore the wind, her head-sails were shaken, her after-yards trimmed,and her helm shifted, before she had time to run upon the danger thathad threatened, as well to leeward as to windward. The beautiful fabric,obedient to her government, threw her bows up gracefully towards thewind again; and, as her sails were trimmed, moved out from among thedangerous shoals, in which she had been embayed, as steadily and swiftlyas she had approached them.
A moment of breathless astonishment succeeded the accomplishment ofthis nice manoeuvre, but there was no time for the usual expressions ofsurprise. The stranger still held the trumpet, and continued to lifthis voice amid the howlings of the blast, whenever prudence
or skillrequired any change in the management of the ship. For an hour longerthere was a fearful struggle for their preservation, the channelbecoming at each step more complicated, and the shoals thickening aroundthe mariners on every side. The lead was cast rapidly, and the quickeye of the pilot seemed to pierce the darkness with a keenness of visionthat exceeded human power. It was apparent to all in the vessel thatthey were under the guidance of one who understood the navigationthoroughly, and their exertions kept pace with their revivingconfidence. Again and again the frigate appeared to be rushing blindlyon shoals where the sea was covered with foam, and where destructionwould have been as sudden as it was certain, when the clear voice ofthe stranger was heard warning them of the danger, and inciting themto their duty. The vessel was implicitly yielded to his government;and during those anxious moments when she was dashing the waters aside,throwing the spray over her enormous yards, each ear would listeneagerly for those sounds that had obtained a command over the crew thatcan only be acquired, under such circumstances, by great steadiness andconsummate skill. The ship was recovering from the inaction of changingher course, in one of those critical tacks that she had made so often,when the pilot, for the first time, addressed the commander of thefrigate, who still continued to superintend the all-important duty ofthe leadsman.
"Now is the pinch," he said, "and if the ship behaves well, we aresafe--but if otherwise, all we have yet done will be useless."
The veteran seaman whom he addressed left the chains at this portentousnotice, and calling to his first lieutenant, required of the stranger anexplanation of his warning.
"See you yon light on the southern headland?" returned the pilot; "youmay know it from the star near it?--by its sinking, at times, in theocean. Now observe the hummock, a little north of it, looking like ashadow in the horizon--'tis a hill far inland. If we keep that lightopen from the hill, we shall do well--but if not, we surely go topieces."
"Let us tack again," exclaimed the lieutenant.
The pilot shook his head, as he replied:
"There is no more tacking or box-hauling to be done tonight. We havebarely room to pass out of the shoals on this course; and if we canweather the 'Devil's Grip,' we clear their outermost point--but if not,as I said before, there is but an alternative."
"If we had beaten out the way we entered," exclaimed Griffith, "weshould have done well."
"Say, also, if the tide would have let us do so," returned the pilot,calmly. "Gentlemen, we must be prompt; we have but a mile to go, and theship appears to fly. That topsail is not enough to keep her up to thewind; we want both jib and mainsail."
"'Tis a perilous thing to loosen canvas in such a tempest!" observed thedoubtful captain.
"It must be done," returned the collected stranger; "we perish withoutit--see the light already touches the edge of the hummock; the sea castsus to leeward."
"It shall be done," cried Griffith, seizing the trumpet from the hand ofthe pilot.
The orders of the lieutenant were executed almost as soon as issued;and, everything being ready, the enormous folds of the mainsail weretrusted loose to the blast. There was an instant when the result wasdoubtful; the tremendous threshing of the heavy sail seemed to biddefiance to all restraint, shaking the ship to her centre; but art andstrength prevailed, and gradually the canvas was distended, and bellyingas it filled, was drawn down to its usual place by the power of ahundred men. The vessel yielded to this immense addition of force, andbowed before it like a reed bending to a breeze. But the success of themeasure was announced by a joyful cry from the stranger, that seemed toburst from his inmost soul.
"She feels it! she springs her luff! observe," he said, "the light opensfrom the hummock already: if she will only bear her canvas we shall goclear."
A report, like that of a cannon, interrupted his exclamation, andsomething resembling a white cloud was seen drifting before the windfrom the head of the ship, till it was driven into the gloom far toleeward.
"'Tis the jib, blown from the bolt-ropes," said the commander of thefrigate. "This is no time to spread light duck--but the mainsail maystand it yet."
"The sail would laugh at a tornado," returned the lieutenant; "but themast springs like a piece of steel."
"Silence all!" cried the pilot. "Now, gentlemen, we shall soon know ourfate. Let her luff--luff you can!"
This warning effectually closed all discourse, and the hardy mariners,knowing that they had already done all in the power of man to insuretheir safety, stood in breathless anxiety, awaiting the result. At ashort distance ahead of them the whole ocean was white with foam, andthe waves, instead of rolling on in regular succession, appeared to betossing about in mad gambols. A single streak of dark billows, not halfa cable's length in width, could be discerned running into this chaosof water; but it was soon lost to the eye amid the confusion of thedisturbed element. Along this narrow path the vessel moved more heavilythan before, being brought so near the wind as to keep her sailstouching. The pilot silently proceeded to the wheel, and, with his ownhands, he undertook the steerage of the ship. No noise proceeded fromthe frigate to interrupt the horrid tumult of the ocean; and sheentered the channel among the breakers, with the silence of a desperatecalmness. Twenty times, as the foam rolled away to leeward, the crewwere on the eve of uttering their joy, as they supposed the vessel pastthe danger; but breaker after breaker would still heave up before them,following each other into the general mass, to check their exultation.Occasionally, the fluttering of the sails would be heard; and when thelooks of the startled seamen were turned to the wheel, they beheld thestranger grasping its spokes, with his quick eye glancing from the waterto the canvas. At length the ship reached a point where she appearedto be rushing directly into the jaws of destruction, when suddenly hercourse was changed, and her head receded rapidly from the wind. At thesame instant the voice of the pilot was heard shouting:
"Square away the yards!--in mainsail!"
A general burst from the crew echoed, "Square away the yards!" and,quick as thought, the frigate was seen gliding along the channel beforethe wind. The eye had hardly time to dwell on the foam, which seemedlike clouds driving in the heavens, and directly the gallant vesselissued from her perils, and rose and fell on the heavy waves of the sea.
The seamen were yet drawing long breaths, and gazing about them likemen recovered from a trance, when Griffith approached the man who had sosuccessfully conducted them through their perils. The lieutenant graspedthe hand of the other, as he said:
"You have this night proved yourself a faithful pilot, and such a seamanas the world cannot equal."
The pressure of the hand was warmly returned by the unknown mariner, whoreplied:
"I am no stranger to the seas, and I may yet find my grave in them.But you, too, have deceived me; you have acted nobly, young man, andCongress----"
"What of Congress?" asked Griffith, observing him to pause.
"Why, Congress is fortunate if it has many such ships as this," said thestranger, coldly, walking away toward the commander.
Griffith gazed after him a moment in surprise; but, as his duty requiredhis attention, other thoughts soon engaged his mind.
The vessel was pronounced to be in safety. The gale was heavy andincreasing, but there was a clear sea before them; and as she slowlystretched out into the bosom of the ocean, preparations were made forher security during its continuance. Before midnight, everything was inorder. A gun from the Ariel soon announced the safety of the schooneralso, which had gone out by another and an easier channel, that thefrigate had not dared to attempt; when the commander directed the usualwatch to be set, and the remainder of the crew to seek their necessaryrepose.
The captain withdrew with the mysterious pilot to his own cabin.Griffith gave his last order; and renewing his charge to the officerinstructed with the care of the vessel, he wished him a pleasantwatch, and sought the refreshment of his own cot. For an hour the younglieutenant lay musing on the events of the day. The remark of Barnstablewould oc
cur to him, in connection with the singular comment of the boy;and then his thoughts would recur to the pilot, who, taken from thehostile shores of Britain, and with her accent on his tongue, had servedthem so faithfully and so well. He remembered the anxiety of CaptainMunson to procure this stranger, at the very hazard from which they hadjust been relieved, and puzzled himself with conjecturing why a pilotwas to be sought at such a risk. His more private feelings would thenresume their sway, and the recollection of America, his mistress, andhis home, mingled with the confused images of the drowsy youth. Thedashing of the billows against the side of the ship, the creaking ofguns and bulkheads, with the roaring of the tempest, however, becamegradually less and less distinct, until nature yielded to necessity, andthe young man forgot even the romantic images of his love, in the deepsleep of a seaman.