Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Pirate IslandA Story of the South Pacific
By Harry Collingwood________________________________________________________________________A very exciting story. It starts with a severe gale on the Essex coastof England. A rescue is effected, as a result of which one of the localfishermen generously adopts an orphan boy they find on the sinking ship.
Years later a number of young people set out on a return voyage by seato Australia. On the return voyage there is a disastrous fire on boardtheir ship, the Galatea, as a result of which they and the crew take tothe boats.
They are rescued by a vessel that turns out to be a pirate ship, thecaptain of which takes them to his island, where he has a number ofships of various kinds that he has captured. Discovering that one ofhis prisoners has designed and built his own fast-sailing yacht, thepirate commands the people to build him a new fast ship, which they setabout doing, and succeed in doing so.
Just as the ship is completed two of the party find, in a well-writtenepisode, that there is a major reef of gold on the island. Howeverthey press on with plans to escape, which involves making off with thenew fast ship they have just completed.
Just as they are departing there is an earthquake, leading to a volcaniceruption in the island. This results in the death of their pursuers.
Putting two and two together it is realised that one of the people inthis story, who had originally been the boy adopted at the very start ofthe book, is the lost child of the uncle of another of the passengers.The uncle has been miserable ever since the loss of his wife and child,though he did not know from what ship, and where, they had been lost.There is a perfectly good reason for this. Needless to say, it all endshappily, with various marriages, and with the intention of getting backto the Pirate Island, to see if it has survived the eruption, and if so,if the gold can be mined.
It makes a very good audiobook, that is very gripping, especially at thepoint where the original discovery of the gold is made.________________________________________________________________________THE PIRATE ISLANDA STORY OF THE SOUTH PACIFIC
BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD
A STORY OF THE SOUTH PACIFIC.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE WRECK ON THE "GUNFLEET."
It was emphatically "a dirty night." The barometer had been slowly butpersistently falling during the two previous days; the dawn had been redand threatening, with a strong breeze from S.E.; and as the short drearyNovember day waxed and waned this strong breeze had steadily increasedin strength until by nightfall it had become a regular "November gale,"with frequent squalls of arrowy rain and sleet, which, impelled by thefurious gusts, smote and stung like hail, and cleared the streets almostas effectually as a volley of musketry would have done.
It was not fit for a dog to be out of doors. So said Ned Anger as heentered the snug bar-parlour of the "Anchor" at Brightlingsea, anddrawing a chair close up to the blazing fire of wreck-wood which roaredup the ample chimney, flung himself heavily down thereon to await thearrival of the "pint" which he had ordered as he passed the bar.
"And yet there's a many poor souls as _has_ to be out in it, and as _is_out in it," returned the buxom hostess, entering at the moment with theaforesaid pint upon a small tray. "It's to be hoped as none of 'emwon't meet their deaths out there among the sands this fearful night,"she added, as Ned took the glass from her, and deposited his "tuppence"in the tray in payment therefor.
A sympathetic murmur of concurrence went round the room in response tothis philanthropic wish, accompanied in some instances by doubtfulshakes of the head.
"Ay, ay, we all hope that," remarked Dick Bird--"Dicky Bird" was thename which had been playfully bestowed upon him by his chums, and bywhich he was generally known--"we all hopes that; but I, for one, feelsuncommon duberous about it. There's hardly a capful of wind as blowsbut what some poor unfort'nate craft leaves her bones out there,"--witha jerk of the thumb over his shoulder to seaward,--"and mostly withevery wreck there's _some_ lives lost. I say, mates, I s'pose there'ssomebody on the look-out?"
"Ay, ay," responded old Bill Maskell from his favourite corner under thetall old-fashioned clock-case, "Bob's gone across the creek and up tothe tower, as usual. The boy _will_ go; always says as how it's his_duty_ to go up there and keep a look-out in bad weather; so, as hiseyes is as sharp as needles, and since one is as good as a hundred forthat sort of work, I thought I'd just look in here for a hour or two,so's to be on the spot if in case any of us should be wanted."
"I've often wondered how it is that it _always_ falls to Bob's lot to goupon the look-out in bad weather. How is it?" asked an individual insemi-nautical costume at the far end of the room, whose bearing andmanner conveyed the impression that he regarded himself, as indeed hewas, somewhat of an intruder. He was a ship-chandler's shopman, with anambition to be mistaken for a genuine "salt," and had not been manymonths in the place.
"Well, you see, mister, the way of it is just this," explained oldMaskell, who considered the question as addressed more especially tohim: "Bob was took off a wrack on the Maplin when he was a mere babby,the only one saved; found him wrapped up warm and snug in one of thebunks on the weather side of the cabin with the water surging up towithin three inches of him; so ever since he's been old enough tounderstand he've always insisted as it was his duty, by way of returningthanks, like, to take the look-out when a wrack may be expected. And,don't you make no mistake, there ain't an eye so sharp as his for asignal-rocket in the whole place, see's 'em almost afore they be fired--he do."
"And did you ever try to find his relatives?" asked the shopman.
"Well, no; I can't say as we did, exactly," answered old Bill, "'causeyou see we didn't rightly know how to set to work at the job. The shipas he was took off of was a passenger-ship, the _Lightning_ of London,and, as I said afore, he was the only one saved. There were nobody elseas we could axe any questions of, and, the ship hailing from London,there was no telling _where_ his friends might have come from. Therewas R.L. marked on his little clothes, and that was all. So we wasobliged to content ourselves with having that fact tacked on to the yarnof the wrack in all the papers, in the hope that some of his friends orrelations might get to see it. But, bless yer heart! we ain't heardnothing from nobody about him, never a word; so I just adopted him, asthe sayin' is, and called him Robert Legerton, arter a old shipmate ofmine that's been drowned this many a year, poor chap."
"And how long is it since the wreck happened?" inquired the shopman.
"Well, let me see," said old Bill. "Blest if I can rightly tell," hecontinued, after a moment or two of reflection. "I've got it wrote downin the family Bible at home, but I can't just rightly recollect at thismoment. It's somewheres about fourteen or fifteen years ago thiswinter, though."
"Fourteen year next month," spoke up another of the company, decidedly."It was the same gale as my poor brother Joe was drowned in."
"Right you are, Tom," returned Bill. "I remember it _was_ that samegale now, and that's fourteen year agone. And the women as took chargeof poor little Bob when we brought him ashore reckoned as he was abouttwo year old or thereaway; they told his age by his teeth--same as youwould tell a horse's age, you know, mister."
"Ay! that was a terrible winter for wrecks, that was," remarked JackWillis, a fine stalwart young fellow of some five-and-twenty. "It wasmy first year at sea. I'd been bound apprentice to the skipper of acollier brig called the _Nancy_, sailing out of Harwich. The skipper'sname was Daniell, `Long Tom Dan'ell' they used to call him because ofhis size. He was so tall that he couldn't stand upright in his cabin,and he'd been
going to sea for so many years that he'd got to be regularround-shouldered. I don't believe that man ever knowed what it was tobe ill in his life; he used to be awful proud of his good health, poorchap! he's dead now--drowned--jumped overboard in a gale of wind a'ter aman as fell off the fore-topsail-yard while they was reefing; and, goodswimmer as he was, they was both lost. Now, he _was_ a swimmer if youlike. You talk about young Bob being a good swimmer, but I'm blessed ifI think he could hold a candle to this here Long Tom Dan'ell as I'mtalking about. Why, I recollect once when we was lyin' wind-bound inYarmouth Roads--"
At this point the narrator was interrupted by the sudden opening of thedoor and the hurried entry of a tall and somewhat slender fair-hairedlad clad in oilskin jumper, leggings, and "sou'-wester" hat, whichglistened in the gaslight; while, as he stood in the doorway for amoment, dazzled by the abrupt transition from darkness to light, thewater trickled off him and speedily formed a little pool at his feet onthe well sanded floor.
This new-comer was Bob Legerton, the hero of my story.
"Well, Bob, what's the news?" was the general exclamation, as theassembled party rose with one accord to their feet. "Rockets going upfrom the `Middle' and the `Gunfleet,'" panted the lad, as he wiped themoisture from his eyes with the back of his hand.
"All right," responded old Bill. Then drawing himself up to his fullheight and casting a scrutinising glance round the room, he exclaimed--
"Now, mates, how many of yer's ready to go out?"
"Why, _all_ of us in course, dad," replied Jack Willis. "'Twas mostlyin expectation of bein' wanted that we comed down here to-night. Andwe've all got our oilskins, so you've only got to pick your crew andlet's be off."
A general murmur of assent followed this speech, and the men forthwithranged themselves along the sides of the room so as to give Bill a clearview of each individual and facilitate a rapid choice.
"Then I'll take you, Jack; and you, Dick; and you; and you; and you;"quickly selecting a strong crew of the stoutest and most resolute men inthe party.
The chosen ones lost no time in donning their oilskin garments, a taskin which they were cheerfully assisted by the others; and while theywere so engaged the hostess issued from the bar with tumblers of smokinghot grog, one of which she handed to each of the adventurers, saying--
"There, boys, drink that off before you go out into the cold and thewet; it'll do none of you any harm, I'm sure, on a night like this, andon such an errand as yours. And you, Bill, if you save anybody anddecide to bring 'em into Brightlingsea, send up a signal-rocket as soonas you think we can see it over the land, and I'll have hot water andblankets all ready for the poor souls against they come ashore."
"Ay, ay, mother; I will," replied old Bill. "Only hope we may be luckyenough to get out to 'em in time; the wind's dead in our teeth all theway. Now, lads, if ye're all ready let's be off. Thank'ee, mother, forthe grog."
The men filed out, Bill leading, and took their way down to the beach, avery few yards distant, the dim flickering light of a lantern beingexhibited from the water-side for a moment as they issued into the openair.
"There's Bob waitin' with the boat; what a chap he is!" ejaculated oneof the men as the light was seen. "I say, Bill, you won't take Bob,will you, on an errand like this here?"
"Oh, ay," responded Bill. "He'll want to go; and I promised him heshould next time as we was called out. He's a fine handy lad, and oldenough to take care of himself by this time. Besides, it's time hebegan to take his share of the rough work."
Reaching the water's edge they found Bob standing there with the painterof a boat in his hand, the boat itself being partially grounded on thebeach. They quickly tumbled in over the gunwale; Bob then placed hisshoulder against the stem-head, and with a powerful "shove," drove theboat stern-foremost into the stream, springing in over the bows andstowing himself away in the eyes of the boat as she floated.
It appeared intensely dark outside when the members of the expeditionfirst issued from the hospitable portal of the "Anchor;" but there was amoon, although she was completely hidden by the dense canopy of fast-flying clouds which overspread the heavens; and the faint light whichstruggled through this thick veil of vapour soon revealed a small fleetof fishing smacks at anchor in the middle of the creek. Toward one ofthese craft the boat was headed, and in a very few minutes the partywere scrambling over the low bulwarks of the _Seamew_--Bill Maskell'sproperty, and the pride of the port.
The boat was at once dragged in on deck and secured, and then, withouthurry or confusion of any kind, but in an incredibly short time, thesmack was unmoored and got under weigh, a faint cheer from the shorefollowing her as she wound her way down the creek between the othercraft, and, hauling close to the wind, headed toward the open sea.
In a very few minutes the gallant little _Seamew_ had passed clear ofthe low point upon which stands the Martello Tower which had been Bob'splace of look-out, and then she felt the full fury of the gale and thefull strength of the raging sea. Even under the mere shred of sail--abalance-reefed main-sail and storm jib--which she dared to show, thelittle vessel was buried to her gunwale, while the sea poured in acontinuous cataract over her bows, across her deck, and out again toleeward, rendering it necessary for her crew to crouch low on the deckto windward under the partial shelter of her low bulwarks, and to lashthemselves there.
It was indeed a terrible night. The thermometer registered only adegree or two above freezing-point; and the howling blast, loaded withspindrift and scud-water, seemed to pierce the adventurers to their verymarrow, while, notwithstanding the care with which they were wrapped up,the continuous pouring of the sea over them soon wet them to the skin.
But the serious discomfort to which they had voluntarily exposedthemselves, so far from damping their ardour only increased it. As theveteran Bill, standing there at the tiller exposed to the full fury ofthe tempest, with the tiller-ropes pulling and jerking at his handsuntil they threatened to cut into the bone, felt his wet clothingclinging to his skin, and his sea-boots gradually filling with water, hepictured to himself a group of poor terror-stricken wretches clingingdespairingly to a shattered wreck out there upon the cruel sands, withthe merciless sea tugging at them fiercely, and the wind chilling theblood within their veins until, perchance, their benumbed limbs growingpowerless, their hold would relax and they would be swept away; and asthe dismal scene rose before his mental vision he tautened up thetiller-ropes a trifle, the smack's head fell off perhaps half a point,and the wind striking more fully upon the straining canvas, she wentsurging out to seaward like a startled steed, her hull half buried in awhirling chaos of flying foam.
Old Bill, the leader of this desperate expedition, was a fisherman inwinter and a yachtsman in summer, as indeed were most of the crew of the_Seamew_ on this eventful night. Many a hard-fought match had Billsailed in, and more than one flying fifty had he proudly steered, awinner, past the flag-ship; but his companions agreed, as they crouchedshivering under the bulwarks, that he never handled a craft better ormore boldly than he did the _Seamew_ on that night. One good stretch tothe eastward, until the "Middle" light bore well upon their weatherquarter, and the helm was put down; the smack tacked handsomely, thoughshe shipped a sea and filled her deck to the gunwale in the operation,and then away she rushed on the other tack, with the light bearing wellupon the lee bow.
In less than an hour from the time of starting the light ship wasreached; and as the smack, luffing into the wind, shaved close under thevessel's stern with all her canvas ashiver, Bill's stentorian voicepealed out--
"_Middle_, ahoy! where a way's the wrack?"
"About a mile and half to the nor'ard, on the weather side of theGunfleet. Fancy she must have broke up, can't make her out now. Wishye good luck," was the reply.
"Thank'ee," roared back Bill. "Ease up main and jib-sheets, boys, andstand clear for a jibe."
Round swept the little _Seamew_, and in another moment, with the wind onher starboard quarter, she was da
rting almost with the speed of hernamesake, along the weather edge of the shoal, upon her errand of mercy.
All eyes were now keenly directed ahead and on the lee bow, anxiouslywatching for some indication of the whereabouts of the wreck, and in afew minutes the welcome cry was simultaneously raised by three or fourof the watchers, "There she is!"
"Ay, there she is; sure enough!" responded old Bill from his post at thetiller, he having like the rest caught a momentary glimpse under thefoot of the main-sail of a shapeless object which had revealed itselffor a single instant in the midst of the whirl of boiling breakers, onlyto be lost sight of again as the leaping waves hurled themselves oncemore furiously down upon their helpless prey.
As the smack rapidly approached the scene of the disaster the wreck wasmade out to be that of a large ship, with only the stump of her main-mast standing. She was already fast settling down in the sand, theforepart of the hull being completely submerged, while the sea sweptincessantly over the stern, which, with its full poop, formed the solerefuge of the hapless crew.
"Now, boys," remarked old Bill when they had approached closely enoughto perceive the desperate situation of those on the wreck. "Now, boys,whatever we're going to do has got to be done smart; the tide's risingfast, and in another hour there won't be enough of yon ship left tolight a fire wi'. Are yer all ready wi' the anchor?"
"Ay, ay; all ready," was the prompt response.
The helm was put down, and the smack plunged round head to wind, hersails flapping furiously as the wind was spilled out of them. There wasno need for orders; the men all knew exactly what to do, and did itprecisely at the right moment. Jib and main-sail were hauled down andsecured in less time than it takes to describe it; and then, as thelittle vessel lost her "way," the heavy anchor--carried expressly foroccasions like the present--was let go, and the cable veered cautiouslyout so that the full strain might not be brought to bear upon it toosuddenly. Old Bill, meanwhile, stood aft by the taffrail with the lead-line in his hand, anxiously noting the shoaling water as the smackdrifted sternward toward the wreck.
"Hold on, for'ard," he shouted at last, when the little _Seamew_ haddriven so far in upon the sand that there was little more than a foot ofwater beneath her keel when she sank into the trough of the sea. "Nowlay aft here, all hands, and let's see if we can get a rope aboard of'em."
The smack was now fairly among the breakers, which came thundering downupon the shoal with indescribable fury, boiling and foaming and tumblinground the little vessel in a perfect chaos of confusion, and falling onboard her in such vast volumes that had everything not been securelybattened down beforehand she must inevitably have been swamped in a fewminutes. As for her crew, every man of them worked with the end of aline firmly lashed round his waist, so that in the extremely likelyevent of his being washed overboard his comrades might have the means ofhauling him on board again.
Nor wore these the only dangers to which the adventurers were exposed.There was the possibility that the cable, stout as it was, might part atany moment, and in such a case their fate would be sealed, for nothingcould then prevent the smack from being dashed to pieces on the sands.
Yet all these dangers were cheerfully faced by these men from a puredesire to serve their fellow-creatures, and without the slightest hopeof reward, for they knew at the very outset that there would not be muchhope of salvage, with a vessel on the sands in such a terrible gale.
The wreck was now directly astern of the smack, and only about onehundred feet distant, so that she could be distinctly seen, as itfortunately happened that the sky had been steadily clearing for thelast quarter of an hour, allowing the moon to peep out unobscured nowand then through an occasional break in the clouds. By the increasinglight the smack's crew were not only enabled to note the exact positionof the wreck, but they could also see that a considerable number ofpeople were clustered upon the poop of the half-submerged hull, some ofthem being women and children. The poor souls were all watching withthe most intense anxiety the movements of those on board the smack, andif anything had been needed to stimulate the exertions of her crew itwould have been abundantly found in the sight of those poor helplessmothers and their little ones clinging there to the shattered wreck inthe bitter winter midnight, exposed to the full fury of the pitilessstorm.
A light heaving-line was quickly cleared away, and one end bent to arope becket securely spliced to a small keg, which was then thrownoverboard and allowed to drift down toward the wreck, the line beingveered freely away at the same time.
The crew of the wreck, anxiously watching the motions of those on boardthe smack, at once comprehended the object of this manoeuvre, and, asthe keg drifted down toward them, made ready to secure it. But the setof the tide, the wash of the sea, or some other unexplained circumstancecaused it to deviate so far from its intended course that it passed at aconsiderable distance astern of the wreck, notwithstanding the utmostendeavours of those on board to secure it; in consequence of which ithad to be hauled on board the smack again, and thus valuable time waslost. The smack's helm was at once shifted, and the tide, aided by thewind, gave her so strong a sheer in the required direction that it washoped a repetition of the mischance would be impossible. The keg wasagain thrown overboard, the line once more veered away. Buoyantly itdrifted down toward the wreck, now buried in the hissing foam-crest of amighty breaker, and anon riding lightly in the liquid valley behind it.All eyes were intently fixed upon it, impatiently watching its slow andsomewhat erratic movements, when the smack seemed to leap suddenlyskyward, rearing up like a startled courser, and heeling violently overon her beam-ends at the same moment; there was a terrific thud forward,accompanied by a violent crashing sound, and the _Seamew's_ crew hadbarely time to grasp the cleat or belaying-pin nearest at hand when afoaming deluge of water hissed and swirled past and over them, thebreaker of which it formed a part sweeping from under the smack downtoward the wreck in an unbroken wall of green water, capped with a whiteand ominously curling crest. The roller broke just as it reached thewreck, expending its full force upon her already shattered hull; theblack mass was seen to heel almost completely over in the midst of thewildly tossing foam, there was a dull report, almost like that of a gun,a piercing shriek, which rose clearly above the howling of the gale andthe babel of the maddened waters, and when the wreck again becamevisible it was seen that she had broken in two amidships, the bow lyingbottom-upward some sixty feet farther in upon the sand, while the stern,which retained its former position, had been robbed of nearly half itsliving freight. And, to make matters worse, the floating keg had oncemore missed its mark.
This repeated failure was disheartening. The tide was rising rapidly;every minute was worth a human life, and it began to look as though, inspite of all effort, the poor souls clinging to the wreck would be sweptinto eternity before the _Seamew's_ crew could effect a communicationwith them.
"Let's have one more try, boys," exhorted old Bill; "and if we missesher this time we shall have to shift our ground and trust to our ownanchor and chain to hold us until we can get 'em off."
Risky work that would be, as each man there told himself; but nonethought of expressing such a sentiment aloud, preferring to take therisk rather than abandon those poor souls to their fate.
The line and keg were rapidly hauled on board the smack once more, andBill was standing aft by the taffrail watching for a favourable momentat which to make another cast, when Bob exclaimed excitedly--
"'Vast heavin', father; 'taint no use tryin' that dodge any more--we'retoo far to leeward. Cast off the line and take a turn with it round mywaist; I'm goin' to try to swim it. I know I can do it, dad; and it'sthe only way as we can do any good."
The old man stared aghast at the lad for a moment, then he glanced atthe mad swirl of broken water astern, then back once more to Bob, who,in the meantime, was rapidly divesting himself of his clothing.
"God bless ye, boy, for the thought," he at length ejaculated; "Godbless ye, but it ain't possible
. Even if the water was _warm_ thebreaking seas 'd smother ye; but bitter cold as 'tis you wouldn't swim adozen yards. No, no, Bob, my lad, put on your duds again; we must trysum'at else."
But Bob had by this time disencumbered himself of everything save awoollen under-shirt and drawers; and now, instead of doing his adoptedfather's bidding, he rapidly cast off the line from the keg, and, makinga bowline in the end, passed it over one shoulder and underneath theother arm. The next instant he had poised himself lightly upon thetaffrail of the wildly tossing smack, and, a mighty breaker sweeping by,with comparatively smooth water behind it, without a moment's hesitationthence plunged head-foremost into the icy sea.
The broken water leaped and tossed wildly, as if in exultation, over thespot where the brave lad had disappeared; while all hands--both those onboard the smack and the people on the wreck--waited breathlessly for hisreappearance on the surface. An endless time it seemed to all; and butfor the rapid passage of the thin light line out over the smack'staffrail, indicating that Bob was swimming swiftly under water, old BillMaskell would have dreaded some dreadful mishap to his _protege_; but atlast a small round dark object appeared in bold relief in the midst of asheet of foam, which gleamed dazzling white in the clear cold light ofthe moon.
It was Bob's head.
"There he is!" was the exultant exclamation of every one of the smack'screw, and then they sent forth upon the wings of the gale a ringingcheer, in which those upon the wreck faintly joined.
"Now, boys," exclaimed old Bill, "clear away this here line behind me,some of yer; and look out another nice light handy one to bend on to itin case we wants it."
The old man himself stood on the taffrail, paying out the line andattentively watching every heave of the plunging smack, so that Bobmight not be checked in the smallest degree in his perilous passage,nor, on the other hand, be hampered by having a superabundance of linepaid out behind him for the tide to act upon and drag hint away toleeward.
The distance from the smack to the wreck was but short, a mere hundredfeet or so, but with the heavy surf to contend against and the linesagging and swaying in the sea behind him, it taxed Bob's energies totheir utmost limit to make any progress at all. Indeed, it appeared tohim that, instead of progressing, he was, like the keg, driftinghelplessly to leeward with the tide. The cold water, too, chilled himto the very marrow and seemed to completely paralyse his energies, whilethe relentless surf foamed over his head almost without intermission, sothat he had the utmost difficulty in getting his breath. Neverthelesshe fought gallantly on until, after what seemed to be an eternity offrightful exertion, he reached the side of the wreck, and grasped therope which its occupants flung to him. He was too completely exhausted,however, to mount the side at that moment; and while he clung to therope, regaining his breath and his strength, a mighty roller camesweeping down upon the sands, burying the smack for the moment as itrushed passed her, and then surging forward with upreared threateningcrest toward the wreck.
There was a warning cry from those on board the wreck, as they saw thisterrible wall of water rushing down upon them, and each seized withdesperate grip whatever came nearest to hand, clinging thereto with thetenacity of despair. Bob heard the cry, saw the danger, and had justtime to struggle clear of the wreck and pass under her stern when thebreaker burst upon them. Blinded, stunned, and breathless, he felthimself whirled helplessly hither and thither, while a load like that ofa mountain seemed to rest upon him and press him down. At last heemerged again, considerably to leeward of the wreck, but with the ropewhich they had thrown him still in his hands. As he gasped for breathand shook the salt water out of his eyes, something swayed against himbeneath the surface--something which he knew instantly must be a humanbody. In a second he had it in his grasp, and, dragging it above water,found it to be the body of a child, apparently about two years old. Atthe same moment a powerful strain came upon the line which he held inhis hand, and he had only time to take, by a rapid movement, two orthree turns of it round his arm when those on the wreck began to haulhim on board.
In less time than it takes to tell of it, he was dragged inboard, andlay panting and exhausted upon the steeply inclined deck of the wreck,with a curious crowd of haggard-eyed anxious men and women gatheredround him. A man dressed in a fine white linen shirt and blue sergetrousers (he was the master of the ship, and had given his remaininggarments to shield the poor shivering, frightened children) was in theact of kneeling down by Bob's side, apparently intending to questionhim, when a piercing shriek was heard, and a woman darted forward withthe cry "My child! my child!" and seized the body which Bob had broughton board and still held in his arms.
This incident created a diversion; and Bob speedily recovering the useof his faculties, and rapidly explaining the intentions of those onboard the smack, a strong hawser was soon stretched from the _Seamew_ tothe wreck, a "bo'sun's chair" slung thereto; and the transport of theshipwrecked crew and passengers at once commenced.
The journey, though short, was fraught with the utmost peril; for itbeing impossible to keep the hawser strained taut, the poor unfortunatewretches had to be dragged through rather than over the surf; and whenall was ready the women, who were of course to go first, found theircourage fail them. In vain were they remonstrated with; in vain werethey reminded that every second as it flew bore mayhap a human life intoeternity with it; the sight of the wild surf into which the hawsermomentarily plunged completely unnerved them, and they one and alldeclared that, rather than face the terrible risk, they would die wherethey were.
At last Bob, who knew as well as, if not better than, anyone on boardthe importance of celerity, whispered a word or two in the captain'sear. The latter nodded approvingly; and Bob at once got into the"chair," some of the ship's crew rapidly but securely lashing him there,in obedience to their captain's order. When all was ready the skipper,approaching the terrified group of women, took one of their childrentenderly in his arms, and, before the unhappy mother could realise whatwas about to take place, handed it to Bob.
The signal was instantly given to those on board the smack, who hauledswiftly upon the hauling-line; Bob went swaying off the gunwale, withhis precious charge encircled safely in his arms, and in another momentwas buried in a mountain of broken water which rushed foaming past.Only to reappear instantly afterwards, however; and in a very briefspace of time he and his charge had safely reached the smack. Thelittle one was handed over to the rough but tender-hearted fishermen;but Bob, seeing that he could be useful there, at once returned to thewreck.
There was now no further difficulty with the women. The mother whosechild had already made the adventurous passage was frantic to rejoin herbaby, and eagerly placed herself in the chair as soon as Bob vacated it.She, too, accomplished the journey in safety; and then the others,taking courage once more from her example, quietly took their turn, somecarrying their children with them, while others preferred to confidetheir darlings to Bob, or to one of the seamen, for the dreadful passagethrough the wintry sea.
The women once safe, the men made short work of it; and in little overtwo hours twenty-five souls--the survivors of a company of passengersand crew numbering in all forty-two--were safely transferred to the_Seamew_, which, slipping her cable, at once bore away with her preciousfreight for Brightlingsea.