Kitobni o'qish: «A Runaway Brig: or, An Accidental Cruise», sahifa 3

CHAPTER VI.
A CHANGE OF WEATHER

Walter could be of but little assistance on deck, owing to his ignorance of nautical matters; yet in Jim's estimation he formed, as companion to himself, a very important portion of the watch. Brave though the young fisherman tried to appear, nothing short of actually saving his own life would have tempted him to remain on the Bonita's quarter-deck alone in the night; and even with an assistant it seemed necessary for him to whistle very loud during several minutes after Bob and Harry disappeared in the cabin before he had sufficient control over his voice to hide the fear which came upon him.

Then he said in what was intended to be a cheery tone:

"Well, Walt, I reckon this is the last night we'll run dead before the wind, unless it blows in our favor. By mornin' Bob oughter be strong enough, if he keeps on eatin' same as he has to-day, to help work ship, an' then the brig'll be headed toward home."

Walter sighed deeply. Just at that moment he was thinking of the loved ones whom he knew must be mourning his absence, and the word "home" caused such an uncomfortably big lump to rise in his throat that it was impossible to make any reply.

Perhaps the same syllable sent Jim's thoughts straying in a similar direction, for he began to whistle once more, and continued to do so until a voice from the companion-way asked, in a querulous tone:

"What's the matter? Short-handed as we are, do you think it's goin' to help out by havin' more wind!"

"It ain't blowin' any harder than it was when you went below," Jim replied in surprise, understanding by the tone of the voice that it was Bob Brace who had spoken.

"That's jes' why you wanter tie up the whistle. It'll bring a gale if you keep on much longer!"

Then the sound of footsteps told that the speaker had returned to the cabin, and Jim said, in a low tone, to Walter:

"Them old sailors are as full of whims as a dog is of fleas. Some of them on the Mary Walker had signs for everything a feller did; but I never saw any come true. Tom Downey, the mate, allers fussed when birds flew 'round the schooner, 'cause he said they'd bring on a gale, an' in a dead calm he'd either whistle or wish he had a cat to throw overboard."

"What for?"

"So's to bring a wind. He says it'll allers come when you do that; but of course its foolishness. Then again, if I happened to whistle, no matter how calm it was, I'd get a rope's endin' 'cause they think a boy mustn't so much as squeak. If I'd believed Bob could hear me I'd know'd enough to hold my tongue."

"Did you get whipped very often on the Mary?" Walter asked, with a mild curiosity.

"More times than I've got fingers an' toes. Whenever any of 'em, from the captain down to the cook, wanted something to do they'd stir me up, an' it makes a feller dance when he gets a good stout heavin'-line across his back; but I'd be willin' to take a pretty big dose of it if I could be on board the old schooner just now."

There was no necessity for Walter to repeat this last sentiment. A severe punishment from his father at that moment would have been a positive pleasure. The lightest word in reference to home caused him to realize more keenly each hour the distance between those whom he loved and himself, and Jim's words seemed but the echo of his own thoughts.

During fully half an hour the two remained in silence at the wheel, steering the brig through the darkness on a course indicated only by the wind, and then the young fisherman was suddenly recalled from memories of the Mary Walker to the Bonita.

The breeze was increasing perceptibly, and the moisture in the atmosphere told that rain might be expected very soon. While the boys had given themselves up to reverie the clouds were gathering, until now it seemed as if they actually enveloped the brig as with an impenetrable vapor, and the waters dashed against the bow with that peculiar sullen sighing which betokens a storm. The Bonita no longer sailed freely, but tossed and plunged like some living thing harassed by obstacles in its path until wearied with the constant strife.

Jim knew the meaning of this change in wind and wave, and he roused himself suddenly as does one who is rudely awakened.

"I reckon it would be better if we 'tended to our business instead of whinin' about what can't be helped," he said grimly, clutching yet more tightly the spokes of the wheel. "You'll have to go below an' tell Bob that a storm is comin' on, so's we can get in some more of this canvas, if he thinks we're carryin' too much."

Walter noted the change in his companion's voice rather than in the elements; but that was sufficient to cause him to move very quickly.

It became necessary to look in several of the tiny apartments before finding the two who were enjoying their watch below, after which it was an affair of only a few seconds to arouse them. Bob sprung to his feet before Walter had repeated Jim's words, and he awakened Harry by saying, as he pulled him from the bunk:

"Come on deck, lad; for we shall need the whole workin' force unless our fisherman has made a mistake!"

To have seen Bob ascend the companion-way ladder one would hardly have supposed he had been so near death a few hours previous. The necessity for action seemed to call back all his strength, and on reaching the deck there was no evidence of weakness in his movements.

"Well, the wind you was callin' for has got here," he said to Jim, looking out into the darkness. "I never knew much good to come of boys whistlin' at sea, an' I don't reckon any one else ever did."

Jim had nothing to say. He didn't believe he was responsible for this sudden change in the weather; but long and sad experience had taught him how useless it would be to deny the imputation, and he asked meekly:

"Do you think we're goin' to have much of a storm?"

"It looks like it; but if we had half a crew aboard there wouldn't be any reason for touchin' a rope. The way we're fixed now makes things different, an' we'd better get her snugged down. I'll take the two boys for'ard, an' you ease her up a bit so we can furl the jib. Come on, lads; there ain't much time to waste."

Harry and Walter followed Bob without the slightest idea of what was required. They could carry out his instructions when he set the example, however, and in half an hour the Bonita was plunging heavily into the rapidly-rising sea with nothing save the foretopsail drawing. She had no more canvas than might have been shown in the most furious gale; but, under the circumstances, it seemed to be all that was consistent with safety, for no one could say how much wind lurked behind the inky clouds.

"Now light the binnacle lamp, Jim, so's we'll have some idea of where we're headin', an' then try your hand at makin' tea. I reckon this will be an all-night job for me, an' as I don't feel so very chipper yet, somethin' warm won't do any harm."

Bob took the wheel as he spoke, and Jim obeyed orders, the other boys following him closely, for the stuffy galley was preferable to the deck, where the huge waves, roaring astern, appeared ever on the point of ingulfing the brig.

By the time a pot of tea had been steeped the storm was full upon them, causing the Bonita to pitch and toss in what Harry and Walter thought a most dangerous manner. Jim did not feel disturbed by it, however, for in his mind was the knowledge of that greater peril concerning which his companions were ignorant. The brig was dashing on literally at the mercy of the gale, and at any moment might strike a reef or the mainland, to the destruction of all on board as well as her own stout timbers, for the helmsman had no idea of what lay before them.

When Jim carried a pannikin of tea aft, leaving the other boys in the galley awaiting his return, Bob said in a low tone, as if fearing his words would be overheard:

"You must take the wheel awhile, lad, so I can hunt for the charts. It won't do to storm along like this without a little smatterin' of what's ahead, an' we'll make some kind of a guess as to where the brig was when you picked me up."

Jim grasped the spokes firmly, as much for the purpose of steadying himself against the vessel's furious plunging as to hold her before the wind, and after draining the pan of its bitter contents Bob Brace went into the cabin.

Owing to the violent motion of the brig the boys in the galley made no effort to join the young fisherman at the helm, and he was left alone during half an hour, when Bob returned.

"Did you find the charts?" Jim asked eagerly.

"Yes; an' I reckon there's no call to worry ourselves very much. We're runnin' pretty nigh south, an' if the brig was a hundred miles off the coast when I came aboard there's nothin' between us an' the Bahamas. We've got thirteen or fourteen hundred miles of clear water, an' this breeze will blow itself out before – "

"Look! Look there!" Jim cried excitedly, heaving the wheel down to port as rapidly as he could handle the spokes.

Bob turned quickly, and but one brief glance was sufficient to cause him to spring to the helmsman's aid.

There was good reason why the two were alarmed. Directly in the Bonita's course, less than half a cable's length away, a huge fabric of canvas and cordage came out of the gloom like a phantom, as if bent on running down the brig.

The stranger had all lowersails set, and a collision would have been fatal to the smaller craft because her headway was so much less than that of the other.

"Up with the helm, lad, to meet her as she comes around!" Bob screamed, when the wheel had been jammed hard down for a second, and the Bonita heeled over while responding to the rudder's sudden swing. "We shall clear her, but it'll be a rub."

The stranger had also changed her course by this time, and as the two vessels swept past each other on a heaving, screaming sea of foam, hardly twenty feet apart, Jim sprang toward the flare.

"You can't bring her to now, lad," Bob shouted as the boy ran into the galley with the basin of alcohol-saturated oakum. "Even if they were willin', we couldn't wear ship."

Jim's excitement was so great that he did not hear the old sailor's words. When he emerged from the galley the spirit was sending up a blue flame which illumined the entire after-part of the brig; but the stranger had vanished in the gloom to starboard, and strain his eyes as he might it was impossible to see any answering signal.

"You needn't spend much time lookin' for that craft, lad. We've been nearer to her than we shall ever be again, an' you'd better chuck the basin overboard before your fingers get burned."

CHAPTER VII.
AN UNEXPECTED DANGER

During the remainder of that night Bob Brace stood at the wheel, save now and then when Jim took his place that he might go into the galley to light his pipe or solace himself with a pannikin of tea.

When the young fisherman lighted the flare both Harry and Walter firmly believed that the ship which had almost run them down would heave to and offer assistance; therefore, as the Bonita plunged on through the dense gloom and over the howling waters without receiving any answer to the mute appeal for aid, their despair was intense. To have been so near those who might have given help seemed to make their position even more desolate than it was before, and after watching in vain for some show of a light from the stranger the boys gave way to grief.

"Now see here, fellers," Jim said gravely as he entered the galley and found them weeping, "feelin' bad won't help matters, an' it'll only make 'em worse. Bob says there wasn't a chance for them on the ship to lend us a hand, even if they wanted to, an' we must keep a stiff upper lip till the weather clears a bit. By this time to-morrow there may be a full crew on board, an' the brig standin' up for the coast; so don't take on so hard. It won't be any use to stay on deck 'cause neither Bob nor me can turn in, so you'd better go below. I'll sing out if there's need for help."

Neither of the boys protested against following this advice. Both were perfectly willing to go where they could not witness the conflict of the elements, and when Jim went aft again they sought refuge in the cabin with but little heed to what a few hours previous had been a place peopled with phantoms of the imagination.

They were yet below when another day dawned, and Jim prepared an appetizing breakfast before awakening them.

The gale still continued in all its fury. With the single piece of canvas the Bonita plunged and rolled on her way southward, for the wind's direction had not changed by so much as half a point, and the watch on deck looked haggard and worn from the long vigil.

During the early hours of the morning, while the sun, through its cloudy veil, was trying to dispel the gloom of night, Jim asked if it was not possible to stand nearer the land in the hope of making some port, and Bob replied very decidedly in the negative.

"It can't be done, lad. The boys below wouldn't be of any account in makin' sail, an', besides, we'd stand a good show of plumpin' on the coast where there wouldn't be the ghost of a chance to get ashore. We'll keep her as she goes till this wind blows itself out, an' then take to the boat if there's no craft in sight. This brig never'll reach port, 'cordin' to my way of thinkin', and I'll be the first to say 'leave her' when the time comes."

On this day there was but little change in the condition of affairs. The gale held strong from the north, but no sail appeared within the anxious watchers' range of vision. Harry and Walter were eager to be of some assistance; but beyond taking a few lessons in steering there was nothing they could do, and their time was passed in comparative idleness.

Bob and Jim alternately stood watch and slept until, when night came again, they were in fair bodily condition for the work before them, and once more Harry and Walter retired to the cabin, knowing they ought to do a full share of the labor, but too ignorant to give any save the most trifling aid.

Before midnight the wind fined down to a light breeze, still holding from the north, however; and Bob said, with a sigh, as Jim made ready to stand his trick at the wheel:

"Ah, lad, if we only had a couple of good men aboard how quick the old hooker's head would be turned toward the coast."

"In case we don't sight a vessel why can't you put her about, anyhow?"

"We'll make a try to get the lower canvas on in the mornin'. You an' I must have a good bit of help from the watch below, an' they'd be worse than wooden boys in the night."

This was not the only reason why Bob made no attempt to get sail on at once. He was yet feeble from the exposure and privations of the nine days in the Trade Wind's yawl, and although there was but little labor involved in such watches as had been kept since coming on board the Bonita, the anxiety prevented an immediate return of strength.

"I've heard of vessels comin' in mighty short-handed," Jim said thoughtfully, as if trying to bring forward some argument which might induce the old sailor to take greater risks. "There was a fishin' schooner from Newburyport what lost all her boats in a fog, an' the captain brought her home with nobody but the cook to help."

"I ain't a questionin' that, lad. The packet-ship Three Brothers, in the Chinese trade, anchored inside of Sandy Hook ten years ago, an' nobody aboard able to lift a hand but two men and the captain's wife – all the rest down with fever. I could spin yarns from now till daylight 'bout jes' sich cases; we're fixed different. None of us knows navigation, an' its got to be all dead reckonin', which is a pretty shaky way of runnin' even a fishin' schooner. Then, again, Harry an' Walter ain't strong enough to handle the wheel in any kind of a decent breeze, an' it's only you an' me. We must lay by till somethin' more'n a good fair chance comes, else we'll find ourselves in a bad scrape."

"Of course you're the one that knows what we ought to do, an' I ain't sayin' a word if we run way down to South America; but it's kinder tough on the boys. I can see 'em, when they think I ain't lookin', wipin' their eyes an' actin' like as if it wouldn't take much to make both yell right out. If they didn't have no more of a home than I've got neither would bother 'bout how long the cruise is likely to last."

"I s'pose it does seem rough," Bob said reflectively; "but what's to be done? I reckon they'd rather loaf 'round here a good many days than take chances on a raft. Sailorizin' is a mighty risky thing for green hands, an' while I can hold my own among the best of 'em in the fo'castle, I'd make a poor fist of navigation. They'll have to grin an' bear it same's many a good man has done before 'em."

Jim had no reply to make. Even before the conversation was begun he realized the difficulty of reaching port unless under the most favorable circumstances; and now since Bob had spoken so freely he resolved to be patient, no matter how long they might remain at sea.

The old sailor, instead of going below, where there would be some trouble to awaken him in the event of a sudden emergency, laid down on the deck to leeward of the house, and a few seconds later his loud breathing told of unconsciousness.

To remain at the wheel, the only one of this small crew awake, and in a certain degree responsible for the safety of all, was a task from which even a more experienced sailor than Jim might be excused for shrinking; but it was a matter which could not well be bettered, and the boy stood up to it bravely. Now and then the white crest of a wave in the distance caused him to start with joy, only to be correspondingly depressed a few seconds later as the true nature of the object was discovered; and thus amid alternate hope and despondency the two long hours of his watch were passed.

Then Bob took his trick at the wheel, Jim camping down on the deck in the place so lately vacated by the old sailor; and when his eyes were closed in slumber he did not open them again until the sun began to send long shafts of golden light across the leaping waters.

"What made you let me sleep so long?" he asked, with just a shade of irritation in his tone. "I was better able to stand watch than you, an' a couple of hours' sleep would a'-fixed me up all right."

"Well, lad, somehow the thinkin' of what might be the end o' this 'ere queer cruise kept me awake, an' when I wasn't sleepy there could be no reason for pullin' you out. We'll square it before dark, though. Now s'posen we get a little grub, call the watch below so's they can take a few lessons in steerin', an' be ready for settin' the canvas."

Jim, feeling that he was in a certain degree responsible for having thus unconsciously shirked his duty, carried out these instructions with the greatest alacrity. When Harry and Walter were awakened they went aft to their teacher in seamanship, while the amateur cook prepared a hearty breakfast, which was served on the top of the house in order that all might eat at the same time.

Then Bob went below for what he called a "double dose of snoozin'." Walter set things to rights in the galley, and Harry steered while Jim stood beside him to make sure the Bonita was kept on the course, exercising as much care as if it was the only one which could be pursued with safety.

Although Bob had fully determined to turn the brig toward the coast on this day, there was no change in her course at noon, and for a very good reason. Before daylight the breeze had died away entirely, and at nine o'clock the Bonita was rising and falling on the glassy ocean with not air enough stirring to lift the narrow thread of blue bunting at the main-truck.

The involuntary crew had spread the yawl's sail from the house to the starboard rail as an awning, for the heat in the cabin was too great to admit of their remaining below, and under this all sought shelter from the sun's fervent rays.

Bob found a reasonably large stock of tobacco among the Bonita's stores, and with this and a short black pipe he occupied himself during the hours of enforced idleness, while the boys thought of home and the loved ones whom they might never see again. The seconds came and went until the sun was directly overhead, and the old sailor had but just settled down for a noonday nap when all four sprang to their feet in alarm, as the deafening crush of an explosion was heard.

The brig quivered from stem to stern as if from the effects of a torpedo beneath her keel, and the fore hatch was flung high in the air while a dense cloud of what appeared to be smoke arose from the hold.

Astonishment and fear rendered the younger members of the crew incapable either of speech or movement, and they might have remained staring stupidly forward an indefinite length of time if Bob had not shouted, excitedly:

"It's a case of fire, lads! Jump to it for what provisions an' water can be got out in a hurry! There's no time to be lost if we want to leave, for most likely the hold is one mass of flame."

These hurriedly-spoken commands aroused the boys from their stupefaction, and in an instant all three leaped toward the pantry. Each took what was nearest at hand, and in a very few moments there was a reasonably large but varied collection of canned provisions in the yawl. No water had been put on board for the very good reason that they could not find a breaker; and Jim shouted, after they had searched several moments in vain:

"We shall have to leave without anything to drink, for we can't get one of the scuttle-butts on the boat."

"I'll stand a pretty good scorchin' afore startin' like that," Bob said decidedly, "'cause you see I know what it is to be thirsty. Fill half a dozen of the fire-buckets while I hunt after bottles."

During all this time the smoke had been pouring from the fore hatchway in dense clouds, apparently giving evidence of some mighty conflagration below; but before a supply of water could be put on the yawl it had fined down to a thin curl of vapor, and to this Jim called Bob's attention just as they were preparing to lower the boat.

"It looks as if somethin' had put the fire out," he said; and Bob replied, as he let go the davit-falls:

"Make fast there, lads, an' I'll take a look below. We don't want to abandon the brig while there's a chance of standin' by her."

The old sailor went forward, the boys remaining aft ready to lower away at a moment's notice, and in a few seconds, to the surprise of all, he was seen going below.

"Now, that's what I call queer!" Jim said after five minutes had passed and Bob did not make his appearance. "He couldn't stay down there very long if the fire amounted to much."

"Perhaps he's been suffocated and can't get back," Harry suggested in a low, tremulous tone.

This idea was sufficient to alarm the other boys, and stopping only long enough to make the falls fast they rushed forward, reaching the fore hatchway just as Bob began to ascend.

"Is the fire very big?" Jim asked; and the reply astonished them quite as much as had the explosion.

"There ain't even a spark!"

"Then what caused the smoke?"

"The brig is loaded with alcohol in casks made of red-oak. That kind of wood is porous, an' the fumes escapin' have formed a gas that looked like smoke, but which had force enough to blow off a hatch that wasn't battened down." Then, as Bob seated himself on the combing and wiped the perspiration from his face, he added: "Now we can have a pretty good idee as to why this craft was abandoned. There was an explosion same as happened a few minutes ago, an' all hands thought what we did – that the brig was on fire. They hove her to an' got the boats over, most likely meanin' to lay at a safe distance until it was possible to find out what would happen. The mainsail was stowed, so she had no after-canvas to hold her steady. Then she got stern-way-on an' backed off till the wind filled her topsails, when she started like a rocket, leavin' the crew behind. Of course she would run a couple of miles, then come to, an' before the men could catch her she'd be off once more. The chances are that them maneuvers were kept up till night set in, when she was lost entirely."

The three boys listened with the utmost attention to this very plausible explanation of what had previously been such a deep mystery, and when Bob concluded there was a look of most intense relief on their faces. Up to this moment the brig herself terrified them because of what had possibly happened on board; but now all seemed changed, and she was suddenly transformed from something supernatural to the most innocent and peaceful of traders.

"Then there's no reason for abandoning her?" Harry said half-interrogatively.

"Not a bit of it, lad. We'll leave the hatch open to let the gas out, an' run her in on the coast if we don't speak a craft that can lend us two or three hands."

"S'posin' you could get some more sailors, then how would you fix it?" Jim asked, remembering what the old man had said regarding his ignorance of navigation.

"Take the chances of keepin' off the shore till we sighted a New York pilot-boat, an' then lay claim for a fat salvage."

"And we should be landed at home!" Walter exclaimed in delight. "We might stop in front of Harry's father's store, which is close by the wharves; and I guess there'd be a big time when Mr. Vandyne found out who had brought in the Bonita!"

"Don't count too much on anything like that, Walt," Harry added gravely. "Bob said he would try to make that port if he could find some sailors to help him; but according to the looks of things now it'll be a long while before such good luck comes."

"We can believe it will be here any moment, and then the nights won't seem so lonely, nor the days so long."

"That's right, lad; don't trouble trouble till trouble troubles you. Keep a stiff upper lip whatever happens, an' you'll stand a better show of pullin' through!" Bob cried in a cheery tone. "I was shipmate once with a chap what was allers worryin' 'bout findin' hisself on a haunted vessel. He never'd put his mark to the articles till after he'd asked all about the craft, an' whether there was any ghosts aboard. Now, you let a man go nosin' 'round expectin' to see things, an' it happens that what he's huntin' for most allers comes, or else he conjures 'em up. Well, so it was with Tom – Tom Byard, he called hisself. He got drunk one night, an' the next mornin' awoke on a ship bound 'round the Horn with a cargo of railroad iron.

"It wasn't long before he commenced to hunt after ghosts, 'an this time he didn't have to look very far. I reckon the liquor – he'd been on a four days' spree – had considerable to do with his eyes; an' that very night, while they was within sight of Sandy Hook, he saw, or thought he did, the biggest kind of a ghost makin' right for him with a bloody knife. Tom was on the maint'gallant-yard with another chap when the thing come. He give a big yell, singing out that he knowed it would be there some time, an' over he went. Nobody ever saw hide or hair of him afterward, an' the captain put in the log-book as how it was delirium tre – tre – tremenjus, or somethin' like that, what killed him."

The point that Bob sought to make was forgotten owing to the length of the story, and even he himself appeared to have lost sight of any moral; therefore, what had been intended as a strong argument why people should not seek out trouble passed for nothing better than a very improbable yarn.

The boys were eager to see the cargo which had given them so much alarm, and had also possibly been the cause of the brig's abandonment by her original crew; therefore they went below on a tour of investigation, which was not very satisfactory because there was nothing but a quantity of casks to be seen.

Ten minutes in the hot hold was sufficient to gratify their curiosity, and then the amateur cook sat about preparing the noonday meal.