blood-curdling yell of those savages now, asthey boarded at our bows. Up went the lights. Up came the hose, and--they caught a Tartar. It was cruel? Maybe, but it was self-defence."
"And the coals?"
"We sank their canoes with these. A kick would knock a Fuegian canoe inbits any day, so our task was easy. They sent an arrow to the veryheart of poor Bill Wheeler, and he fell backwards dead, and theyharpooned another of our men; but few of them went back with a wholeskin, I'll warrant."
Before my watch was over there was no more wind than would have sufficedto move a child's paper boat, but the night was not quite so dark, themoon escaping now and then to cast a few silvery rays on the water orlight up the rugged tops of the distant sierras, then being speedilyengulfed once more in great inky-dark clouds.
The situation was by no means a desirable one, for currents run herelike mill streams, and we were a measurable distance from the wild,desolate shore.
Ritchie was right; and when I went on deck next morning beforebreakfast, I found that the musgo was thick and white around us, andthough it was easy enough to see one's finger at arm's length, it is noexaggeration to say it was impossible to see the jib-boom end from theforemast.
We must have been somewhere off Point Gallant, in an ugly place, so itis no wonder the captain concluded to anchor if he could get near enoughto find soundings.
The wind was rising now, and though but in puffs which just gave the_Salamander_ a send now and then, we were forging ahead at perhaps twoknots an hour.
It continued like this all day long, but the wind had increased byevening, and almost threatened a gale. We could not now be far off theEnglish Reach, which, as a glance at a map will show you, is narrow, andtherefore dangerous in the extreme. So long, therefore, as we had asurety of width of water, we determined to lay to with as little sail aspossible on her.
Night seemed to come on a full hour sooner. It was a night I shallnever forget. Anxiety was depicted on every face that there was achance of getting a glimpse at. And though the captain tried to speakcheerfully in his wife's presence, it was evident his thoughts were notwith his words. Every extra puff of the still rising wind must havefelt going through his heart like a knife. I know it did through mine.Even Peter was serious for once.
On going forward I saw Ritchie standing by the winch.
"What do you think of it now, Ritchie?" I asked.
"Think of it, lad?" he replied. "I think it's likely to be a case withthe old _Salamander_ before four bells in the morning watch."
"You're a pessimist," I said. This was a favourite expression of pooraunt's.
"It's the _mist_ that'll do it," he said. "Look, see sir, if the windgets no higher the musgo will continue. Then we may drift quietly onshore and strike. If it does blow a real gale, away goes the musgo andout comes the moon; that would be a poor enough outlook, but we'd seewhat we were doing."
Hour after hour went by, and though the storm increased, there was nevera sign of the musgo rolling off. No one thought of turning in to-night.The captain never even suggested when he came below, as he now and thendid, that even Mrs Coates should go to her cabin.
There was something very awful in this waiting, waiting, waiting. Andfor what? Had any one dared ask himself this question, he would hardlyhave been brave enough to have answered it.
It must have been about four in the morning. I could not say forcertain, for bells I do not think had even been struck, when suddenly,without a moment's warning, the wind increased to a shrieking, roaringsquall of more than gale-force, and next minute we had struck and wereengulfed in breakers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
WE LEAVE THE DOOMED SHIP--PURSUED BY SAVAGES.
I was in the saloon at the time, and everything seemed to fall together,as it were. It felt as if the ship's bottom were dashed _in_ andupwards, and when I struck a light--for the lamp had been extinguished,though it did not leave the gymbals--all was chaos in our once cosy weesaloon. Piano, chairs, books, ornaments, all mixed up together. Ihastened to help Mrs Coates to her feet, and called to the steward togather up the burning coals off the deck, else with the spilt oil weshould be on fire.
No need, for a green sea came tumbling down the companion, and surgedfoaming in at the doorway, till we stood ankle deep in water. Anotherand another followed. The wind roared with redoubled violence. Thenlouder than the wind and the voice of the sea, came the crash of afalling mast. The squall appeared to have done its worst now, andthough the seas continued to break against and over us, it was more insheets of spray than in green water. We had gone on shore stemforemost, and were firmly wedged between two low bush-clad cliffs.
Now slowly, almost imperceptibly, the wind went down, and the musgorolled away, and when morning broke cold and drearily over the sea andhills, the sky was comparatively clear, our position could be clearlydefined and our danger could be faced.
Three poor fellows had fallen under the wreck, and were either killed atonce or quickly drowned. A few others were wounded or bruised, and allwere shaken.
The boats to the number of three--whalers they were--remained intact.
We were in a kind of wooded cove, with hills rising high at each sidesave on the sea-board, and far away above us was a region of ice andsnow, with a cataract tumbling its waters apparently out of the very skyitself.
When the sun rose at last, dismal as was our plight, I could not helpadmiring, nay, even marvelling at, the beauty of the scenery around us.It was grand beyond compare.
We were in no immediate danger. We appeared to have been lifted in onthe top of an immense wave, and deposited between the cliffs and on ahard flat bottom, from which we could not slide. There were timbersfrom her lower sides floating about us even now that told their own sadtale.
The ship was doomed, but we who were spared had much, very much, to bethankful for.
The captain consulted with Ritchie, who was carpenter on board, besidesholding some other rating. He was not only the oldest on board, but byfar the most experienced. It was resolved at once to put ourselves in astate of preparation, for the savages would assuredly find us out beforelong.
Then we went to prayers.
I need hardly say they were solemn and heart-felt.
There was no time to be lost now, however. We must get ready at once toleave the wreck, and in boats make the best of our way eastward towardsSandy Point. Whether we could do so in peace and safety remained to beseen.
We were in the hands of an all-seeing Providence; we could but say "Thywill be done," and leave the rest to Him.
"We had better bury the dead on shore, Ritchie?" said the captain.
He really was asking a question for information. He seemed to quitedefer to Ritchie.
"I wouldn't do that, sir. These canoe Indians are cannibals, andthey'll have 'em up and eat them as sure as one belayin' pin's likeanother. No, sir, it'll be just as quick to tack 'em up and give 'em asailor's grave."
"You see to that then, Ritchie. Will you take charge of the boat, MrJack? Thank you."
The broken and buried corpses of the poor fellows were speedily sewn inhammocks, which were heavily weighted with iron, and taken out to sea asfar as we dared to go; and then, while the solemn burial service wasread by Ritchie, one by one they were dropped overboard, and sank intothe murky water with sullen booming plash. As he closed the book,Ritchie looked round him on all sides, but there was no sign of savagesto be seen, neither smoke on shore nor canoe at sea. Nor was there anysound to break the stillness except the plaintive cry of a sea-bird; andyet who could tell what eyes of Indians the forest might not hide?
On our return we found our comrades all very busy indeed.
Poor Mrs Coates, looking very pale and resigned, sat on the companion.Woman-like, even in this dire strait she had not forgotten to bring abasket with her, and Leila clutched another. Both were warmly clad, andboth wore guanaco mantles, the very garments we had purchased at SandyPoint.
Captain Coates
put another question to Ritchie:
"Should we or should we not fire the ship, Mr Ritchie, think you?"
"For the matter o' that," replied Ritchie, "I'd as soon feed snakes inthe woods as put any good thing in the way o' these cannibal fiends, butI think, sir, leaving the ship for them will be our salvation. You askmy opinion, sir, and I give it. The wind is changing round already.It's a way the winds have here, where the Pacific and the Atlantic seemto me to fight for mastery like. We needn't be in a hurry then to leavethe ship till they come."
"You feel sure they'll come?"
"Ah! never doubt 'em, sir. When they see we're leaving the ship, theywon't chase us till they've cleared the wreck. My advice is, have upthe 'baccy for 'em all ready, and the rum too. Let them look foreverything else."
"You seem obliging to