CHAPTER II.
THE END OF THE "AGUILA."
The drowning of the crazy sailor had a bad effect on the rest of thecrew, and it became evident that they had abandoned all hope. Theyhung about so listlessly that even the captain could not rouse them,and indeed there was nothing they could do.
This utter inability to help ourselves was the worst evil of the case.Even I, though only a boy, wanted to do something, no matter what, ifit would help in the struggle for life; but I, like the rest, couldonly wait--wait with throat like a furnace, peeling lips, smartingeyes, and aching head, till death or rain put an end to the misery.
I tried not to think of it, tried to shut out the horrible end so closeat hand; but in vain. Jose sat beside me, endeavouring to rouse me.It must rain, he said, or the wind would spring up, and we should meetwith a ship; but in his heart I think he had no hope.
The day crawled on, afternoon came, and I fell into a troubled sleep.The pain of my throat directed my wandering thoughts perhaps, andconjured up horrible visions. I was lashed to the wheel of the_Aguila_, and the schooner went drifting, drifting far away into anunknown sea. All was still around me, though I was not alone. Sailorswalked the deck or huddled in the forecastle--sailors with skin ofwrinkled parchment, with deep-set, burning yet unseeing eyes, withmoving lips from which no sound came; and as we sailed away everfurther and further into the darkness, the horror of it maddened me. Istruggled desperately to free myself, calling aloud to Jose to save me.Then a hand was laid softly on my forehead, and a kind, familiar voicewhispered,--
"Jack! Jack! Wake up. You are dreaming!" Opening my eyes I saw Josebending over me, his face stricken with fear. My head burned, but myface and limbs were wet as if I had just come from the sea. "Get up,"said Jose sharply, "and walk about with me. You must not dream again."
It seems that in my sleep I had screamed aloud; but the sailors took nonotice of me either then or afterwards. They had troubles enough oftheir own, and were totally indifferent to those of others.
The red tinge had now gone from the haze, leaving it cold and gray; thesea was dull and lifeless, no ripple breaking the stillness of itssurface.
"Is there any hope, Jose?" I asked in a whisper, and from his face,though not from his speech, learned there was none.
The captain had stored two bottles of liquor in the cabin for his ownuse. These he shared amongst us; but it was fiery stuff, and even atthe first increased rather than allayed our thirst. Most of the crewwere lying down now; but one had climbed to the roof of the forecastle,and stood there singing in a weak, quavering voice. Jose spoke to himsoothingly; but he only laughed, and continued his weird song. Hisface haunted me; even when darkness closed like a pall around us Icould still see it. He sang on and on in the gloom, and it appeared tome that he was wailing our death-chant. Presently there was silence,followed by a slight shuffling sound as the man moved to another partof the deck; then the song began again, and was followed by a burst ofuncanny laughter. Suddenly it seemed as if the poor fellow realizedhis position, as he broke into a sob and called on God to save him.
Making our way to the other side of the vessel, we found him sittingdisconsolately on a coil of rope, and did our best to cheer him. Theskipper joined us, but no other man stirred hand or foot. Apparentlytheir terrible suffering had overpowered all feeling of sympathy.
"Don't give way," said Jose brightly, laying a hand on his shoulder;"bear up, there's a good fellow. Rain may fall at any moment now, andthen we shall be saved."
"Ah, senor," cried the poor fellow huskily, "my throat is parched,parched; my head is like a burning coal! but I will be quiet now andbrave--if I can."
"This is terrible," exclaimed the captain piteously, as after a time weturned away.
"Hope must be our sheet-anchor," said Jose. "Once cut ourselves adriftfrom that, and we shall go to ruin headlong."
He spoke bravely, but his words came from the lips only, and this weall knew. Sitting down on a coil of rope, we waited for the night topass, longing for yet dreading the appearance of another dawn. It wasdreadfully silent, except when some poor fellow broke the stillnesswith his groans and cries of anguish.
It was, as nearly as I could judge, about one o'clock in the morning,when Jose suddenly sprang to his feet with a cry of joy.
"What is it?" I asked; and he, clapping his hands, exclaimed,--
"Lightning! See, there is another flash.--Get up, my hearties; thewind's rising. There's a beautiful clap of thunder. We shall have afine storm presently!"
One by one the men staggered to their feet. They heard the crash ofthe thunder, and a broad sheet of lightning showed them banks of cloudgathering thick and black overhead. Directed by the captain and helpedby Jose, they spread every sail and awning that could be used,collected buckets and a spare cask, and awaited the rain eagerly andexpectantly. Would it come? Fiery snakes played about the tops of themasts or leaped from sky to sea; the thunder pealed and pealed againthrough the air; the wind rose, the sails filled, the schooner movedthrough the water, but no rain fell.
I cannot tell you a tithe of the hopes and fears which passed throughour hearts during the next half-hour. Now we exulted in the certaintyof relief; again we were thrown into the abyss of despair. We stoodlooking at the darkness, hoping, praying that the life-giving rainmight fall speedily upon our upturned faces.
Another terrific crash, and then--ah, how earnestly we gave thanks toGod for His mercy--the raindrops came pattering to the deck, lightly atfirst, lightly and softly, like scouts sent forward to spy out theland, and afterwards the main body in a crowd beating fiercely, heavilyupon us. How we laughed as, making cups of our hands, we lapped thewelcome water greedily! What cries of delight ascended heavenward aswe filled our spare cask and every vessel that would hold water! Therain came down in a steady torrent, soaking us through; but we felt nodiscomfort, for it fed us with new life.
Presently the captain got some of the men to work, while the others atethe food which had lain all day untasted, and then, doubly refreshed,they relieved their comrades. Jose and I, too, ate sparingly of somefood; but even this little, with the water, made new beings of us.
As yet the wind was no more than a fair breeze, but by degrees itbecame boisterous, and the crew, still weak and now short of three men,could barely manage the schooner. Jose and I knew nothing ofseamanship, but we bore a hand here and there, straining at this ropeor that as we were bidden, and encouraging the crew to the best of ourability.
As yet we gave little thought to the new danger that menaced us, beingfull of thanks for our escape from a horrible death; but the fury ofthe storm increased, the wind battered against the schooner in howlinggusts, and presently the topgallant mast fell with a crash to the deck.Fortunately no one was hurt, and we quickly cut the wreckage clear; butmisfortune followed misfortune, and at length, with white, scared face,the carpenter announced that water was fast rising in the hold.
Here, at least, Jose and I were of service. Taking our places at thepumps, we toiled with might and main to keep the water down. Thus theremainder of the night passed with every one working at the pumps orassisting the captain to manage the vessel.
Morning brought no abatement of the storm, but the light enabled us torealize more clearly how near we were, a second time, to death. Therain still poured down in torrents, the wind leaped at us withhurricane fury, the schooner tossed, a helpless wreck, in the midst ofa mountainous sea. The carpenter reported that, in spite of all ourlabours, the water was fast gaining on us. The sailors now lost heart,and one of them left his post, saying sullenly they might as well drownfirst as last. It was a dangerous example, but the skipper checked themischief. Running forward with loaded pistol, he shouted,--
"Go back to the pumps, you coward, or I will shoot you down like a dog!Call yourself a man? Why, that youngster there is worth fifty of you!"
The fellow returned to his work; but as the hours passed we became moreand more certain
that no amount of pumping would save the ship. Evennow she was but a floating wreck, and soon she would be engulfed by theraging sea.
While Jose and I were taking a rest, the captain told us that, evenshould the storm cease, the _Aguila_ must go down in less thantwenty-four hours, and that he knew not whether we were close to theshore or a hundred leagues from it. Jose received the news coolly. Hecame of a race that does not believe in whimpering, and his only carewas on my account.
"I am sorry for your mother, Jack," said he, "and for you too. We'rein a fair hole, and I don't see any way of getting out; but for allthat we will keep our heads cool. Never go under without a fight forit--that's as good a motto as any other. You heard the skipper say theschooner is bound to go down, and you know we have no boats--theywouldn't be any good if we had, while this storm lasts; but if the seacalms, a plank will keep you afloat a long time, and maybe a ship willcome along handy. Anyhow, make a fight for it, my boy. Now we'll havea snack of something to eat, and then for another spell at the pumps."
By this time a feeling of despair had seized the crew, and but for fearof the captain's pistol they would have stopped work in a body.However, he kept them at it, and towards noon the tempest ceased almostas suddenly as it had begun. The gale dropped to a steady breeze, andthe surface of the ocean became comparatively calm.
The change cheered us; we looked on it as a good omen, and toiled atthe pumps even harder than before. We could not lessen the quantity ofwater, but for a time we kept it from gaining, and a germ of hope creptback into our hearts. Every hour now was likely to be in our favour,as the captain judged the wind was blowing us to some part of thecoast, where we might either fall in with a vessel or effect a landing.Thus, between hope and fear, the afternoon passed, and then we saw thatthe captain's judgment was correct.
Straight before us, though far off as yet, appeared the dark line ofcoast with a barrier of mountains in the background, and in front abroad band of snow-white foam.
Would the schooner cover the distance? If so, would she escape beingdashed to pieces in the thundering surf? These were the questionswhich agitated our minds as, impelled by the breeze, she drove throughthe water. We of ourselves could do nothing save work at the pumps andwait for what might happen.
Afternoon merged into evening, and evening into night. A few starspeeped forth in the sky, but were soon veiled by grayish clouds. Thebroad white band along the shore was startlingly distinct, and stillthe issue was undecided.
The end came with such unexpected suddenness that the men hardly hadtime to cry out. Jose and I were resting at the moment, when theschooner lurched heavily, tried to right herself and failed, filledwith water, and sank like a stone.
I often think of that shipwreck as a horrible dream. Down, down Iwent, holding my breath till it seemed impossible to stay longerwithout opening my mouth and swallowing the salt water. By an effort Irestrained myself till my head shot above the surface and once more Iwas free to breathe.
The ship had disappeared entirely, and it was too dark to see such asmall object as a man's head. By great good fortune I managed to seizea floating spar, and, resting on it, called aloud for Jose. The onlyanswer was the anguished cry of a drowning man across the waste ofwaters. Twice again it came, and then all was silent, though inimagination I still could hear that anguished cry. The sea rolled inlong surges, carrying me forward without effort and at a great ratetoward the clear white line. Live or die, I could not help myself now,but was entirely at the mercy of the waves. I thought of Jose's adviceto make a fight for it, but there was nothing to be done. Clinging tomy spar, I was tossed from crest to depth like a ball bandied about byboys.
And now my ears were filled with a great roaring as I approached nearerto the crested foam; then feeling that the end was very near, I prayedsilently yet fervently that God would comfort my mother in this her newtrial, and prepared myself to die.
From the top of a high wave I went down into the depths, rose again tothe crest of a second huge roller, and then was flung with the velocityof lightning into the midst of the great sea-horses with their snowymanes.
Of this part of the adventure I remember but little, only that for amoment I lay bruised and battered at the foot of a high rock.
Once more Jose's advice sounded in my ear, and loosing my spar, Iclambered, dizzy and half blind, to the top. The ramping white horsesraced after as if to drag me back, but finding that impossible, retiredsullenly to spring yet once again. Shrieking and hissing, the greatwhite monsters tore along, dashing in fury and breaking in impotenceagainst the immovable rocks. The wild, weird scene, too, frightenedme; for I was but a boy, remember, who up to this had never met with amore stirring adventure, perhaps, than a tussle with a high-spiritedpony. I was worn out, too, by hard toil, faint from loss of blood,saddened by the loss of my faithful Jose, and by the awful calamitythat had overtaken the crew of the schooner. Yet, in spite of all, sostrong was the instinct to live, that, almost without thought, Iclambered along the rocky ridge which jutted out from the mainland,while the baffled waves raced hungrily on either side of me, as if evennow loath to abandon their expected prey.
At length the line of white foam was at my back. I found myself on aboulder-strewn beach, and for the time safe! Although half dead withprivation and exposure, I wandered some way along the beach, callingaloud on Jose and the sailors, forgetful that the roar of the surfdrowned my voice.
Presently I could go no further, the beach in that direction beingwalled in by a rocky cliff, steep and high, and but for a narrowfissure upon which I happily came, insurmountable.
I say happily, for at the summit of the cliff I fancied I saw the flashof a lantern. A lantern meant human beings, who on hearing my storywould search the shore, and find, perhaps, that others besides myselfhad escaped from the wreck. With this idea in my head, I began toclimb, going very steadily; for, as I have said, the track was littlemore than a fissure in the rock, and my head was far from clear. Itoiled on, cutting my hands and legs with the jagged rocks, but makingsome progress, till at length I had covered the greater part of thedistance; then I could do no more. A tiny crevice gave me foothold,and I was able to rest my arms on a wide ledge, but had no strength todraw myself up to it. Twice I tried and failed; then fearful lest mystrength should give way, I strove no more, but, raising my voice,shouted loudly for help. Very mournful the cry sounded in the silentnight, as I hung there utterly helpless on the face of the cliff.
Again and again I shouted with all my might, to be answered at firstonly by the roar of the surf below. Presently, on the summit of thecliff, not far above me, a lantern flashed, then another, and another,and a voice hailed me through the darkness.
"Help!" I cried, "help!" and my voice was full of despair, for mystrength was fast ebbing. I must soon lose my hold, and be dashed topieces at the foot of the cliff.
The lanterns flashed to and fro above me. Would they never comenearer? What was that? A big stone bounding and bouncing from rock torock whizzed past my head, and disappeared in the gloom below.Collecting all my strength, I shouted again, fearing that it must befor the last time.
But now--oh, how sincerely I gave thanks to God!--a light had come overthe edge of the cliff, and though moving slowly, it certainly advancedin my direction. Yes, I saw a man's outline. In one hand he carried alantern, in the other a noosed rope, and he felt his way carefully.
"Help! help!" I exclaimed, faintly enough now; but he heard me, and Iknew I was saved. Putting the lantern on the ledge and grasping thecollar of my coat, he got the noose round my body under the arms, andthose above drew me up.
"Help! help!" I exclaimed, faintly; but he heard me, andI knew I was saved.]
The lanterns showed a group of men in uniform, who crowded around me asI reached the top; but being uncertain how long my strength would last,I cried,--
"A wreck! Search the beach. There may have been others washed ashore."
Upon this there was much t
alking, and then two men carried me away,leaving their companions, as I hoped, to search for any chancesurvivors.
At the Point of the Sword Page 3
