The Wreckers of Sable Island

by J. Macdonald Oxley

  CHAPTER II.

  IN ROUGH WEATHER.

  It was the first of November when the _Francis_ got off, and CaptainReefwell warned his passengers that they might expect a rather roughvoyage, as they were sure to have a storm or two in crossing at thattime of year. Eric protested that he would not mind; he was not afraidof a storm. Indeed, he wanted to see one really good storm at sea,such as he had often read about.

  But he changed his tune when the _Francis_ began to pitch and toss inthe chops of the English Channel, and with pale face and piteous voicehe asked the major "if a real storm were worse than this." A few dayslater, however, when he got his sea-legs all right, and the _Francis_was bowling merrily over the broad Atlantic before a favouring breeze,his courage came back to him, and he felt ready for anything.

  The _Francis_ was not more than a week out before the captain'sprediction began to be fulfilled. One storm succeeded another with butlittle rest between, the wind blowing from all quarters in turn.Driven hither and thither before it, the _Francis_ struggled gallantlytoward her destination. So long as he was out in mid-Atlantic CaptainReefwell seemed quite indifferent to the boisterous weather. He toldhis passengers that he was sorry for the many discomforts they wereforced to endure, but otherwise showed no concern. He was a daringsailor, and had crossed the ocean a score of times before. As theyapproached the American side, however, and the storm still continued,he grew very anxious, as his troubled countenance and moody mannerplainly showed. The truth was that he had been driven out of hiscourse, and had lost his reckoning, owing to sun and stars alike havingbeen invisible for so many days. He had no clear idea of his distancefrom the coast, and unless he could soon secure a satisfactoryobservation the _Francis_ would be in a perilous plight.

  The first of December was marked by a storm more violent than any whichhad come before, followed by a dense fog which swathed the ship inappalling gloom. The captain evidently regarded this fog as a verygrave addition to his difficulties. He hardly left the quarter-deck,and his face grew haggard and his eyes bloodshot with being constantlyon the look-out. Realizing that a crisis was at hand, and determinedto know the worst, Major Maunsell made bold to ask the captain to tellhim the real state of affairs. Captain Reefwell hesitated for amoment, then muttering something about "might as well out with it," helaid his hand upon the major's shoulder, and looking straight into hiseyes, with a strange expression of sympathy, said in his gravesttones,--

  "Major, it's just this: unless I'm clean lost, we must now be somewherenear Sable Island. I'm expecting to hear the roar of its breakers anyminute, and once the _Francis_ gets amongst them, God help us all!Sable Island makes sure work." And he turned away abruptly, as thoughto hide his feelings.

  Captain Reefwell's words sent a shudder straight and swift throughMajor Maunsell's heart. The latter already knew of the bad reputationof that strange island which scarcely lifts itself above the level ofthe Atlantic, less than a hundred miles due east from Nova Scotia.Stories that chilled the blood had from time to time floated up toHalifax--stories of shipwreck following fast upon shipwreck, and no onesurviving to tell the tale.

  But even more appalling than the fury of the storm that scourged thelonely island were the deeds said to be done by monsters in human guisewho plied the wrecker's trade there, and, acting upon the principlethat dead men tell no tales, had made it their care to put out of theway all whom even the cruel billows had spared.

  With a heavy heart the major made his way back to the cabin, where hefound Eric, upon whose bright spirits the long and stormy voyage hadtold heavily, looking very unhappy as he tried to amuse himself with abook. The boy was worn out by the ceaseless pitching and tossing ofthe vessel. He felt both home-sick and sea-sick, as indeed did manyanother of the passengers, who with one accord were wishing themselvessafely upon land again. He looked up eagerly as the major entered.

  "What does the captain say, major?" he asked, his big brown eyes opentheir widest. "Will the storm soon be over, and are we near Halifax?"

  Concealing his true feelings, the major replied with well-put-oncheerfulness,--

  "The captain says that if this fog would only lift, and let him findout exactly where we are, Eric, he would be all right. There isnothing to do but to wait, and hope for the best." And sitting downbeside Eric, he threw his arm about him in a tender, protecting waythat showed how strongly he felt.

  So intense was the anxiety on board the _Francis_ that none of thepassengers thought of going to their berths or taking off their clothesthat night, but all gathered in the cabins, finding what cheer andcomfort they could in one another's company.

  In the main cabin were other officers besides Major Maunsell--namely,Captain Sterling of the Fusiliers, Lieutenant Mercer of the RoyalArtillery, and Lieutenants Sutton, Roebuck, and Moore of the 16th LightDragoons; while in the fore-cabin were household servants of the princeand soldiers of the line, bringing the total number of passengers up totwo hundred.

  During the night Captain Reefwell, seeing that it was no longer any useto conceal the seriousness of the situation, sent word to all on boardto prepare for the worst, as the ship might be among the breakers atany moment. The poor passengers hastened to gather their most preciouspossessions into little bundles, and to prepare themselves for theapproaching struggle with death.

  The night wore slowly on, the sturdy brig straining and groaning as thebillows made a plaything of her, tossing her to and fro as though shewas no heavier than a chip, while the fierce storm shrieked through therigging in apparent glee at having so rich a prize for the wreckers ofSable Island.

  It was a brave band that awaited its fate in the main cabin. The menwere borne up by the dauntless fortitude of the British soldier, and,catching their spirit, Eric manifested a quiet courage well worthy ofthe name he bore. He had Prince with him now, for the captain hadhimself suggested that he had better have the dog near at hand. Thenoble creature seemed to have some glimmering of their common peril,for he kept very close to his young master, and every now and then laidhis huge head upon Eric's knee and looked up into his face with anexpression that said as plainly as words,--

  "Nothing but death can ever part us. You can depend upon me to thevery uttermost."

  And hugging him fondly, Eric answered,--

  "Dear old Prince! You'll help me if we are wrecked, won't you?" atwhich Prince wagged his tail responsively, and did his best to lick hismaster's face.

  Now and then some one would creep up on deck, and brave the fury of theblast for a few moments, in hope of finding some sign of change for thebetter; and on his return to the cabin the others would eagerly scanhis countenance and await his words, only to be met with a sorrowfulshake of the head that rendered words unnecessary.

  Eric alone found temporary forgetfulness in sleep. He was very weary,and, though fully alive to the danger so near at hand, could not keepfrom falling into a fitful slumber, as he lay upon the cushioned seatthat encircled the cabin, Prince stationing himself at his side andpillowing his head in his lap.

  Poor Prince was by no means so handsome a creature now as when his goodlooks and good manners won the captain's heart. The long stormypassage had been very hard upon him. He had grown gaunt, and hissmooth, shiny skin had become rough and unkempt. Otherwise, however,he was not much the worse, and was quite ready for active duty if hisservices should be needed.

  Awaking from a light sleep, in which he dreamed that he and Prince werehaving a glorious romp on the lawn at Oakdene, which somehow seemed tobe undulating in a very curious fashion, Eric caught sight of MajorMaunsell returning to the cabin after a visit to the upper deck, and atonce ran up to him and plied him with eager questions.

  "Is the storm getting any better, and will it soon be daylight again?"

  The major did his best to look cheerful as he answered,--

  "Well, the storm is no worse, Eric, at all events, and it will not belong before daylight comes."

  "But even if we should be wrecked,"
said Eric, looking pleadingly intothe major's face, "we might all get ashore all right, mightn't we?I've often read of shipwrecks in which everybody was saved."

  "Certainly, my boy, certainly," replied the major promptly, althoughdeep down in his heart he seemed to hear Captain Reefwell's ominouswords, "Sable Island makes sure work."

  "And, major," continued Eric, "I'm going to keep tight hold of Prince'scollar if we do get wrecked. He can swim ever so much better than Ican, and he'll pull me ashore all right, won't he?"

  "That's a capital idea of yours, my boy," said the major, smilingtenderly upon him. "Keep tight hold of Prince, by all means. Youcouldn't have a better life-preserver."

  "I don't want to be wrecked, that's certain; but if we are, I'm veryglad I've got Prince here to help me--the dear old fellow that he is!"And so saying, Eric threw himself down upon his dog and gave him ahearty hug, which the mastiff evidently much enjoyed. Day broke atlast, if the slow changing of the thick darkness into a dense gray fogcould rightly be called daybreak.

  The _Francis_ still bravely battled with the tempest. She had provedherself a trusty ship, and, with Captain Reefwell on the quarter-deck,more than a match for the worst fury of wind and wave.

  But no ship that ever has been or ever will be built could possiblypass through the ordeal of the Sable Island breakers, whose awfulthunder might at any moment be heard above the howling of the blast.At breakfast-time the worn and weary passengers gathered around thetable for what would, in all probability, be their last meal on boardthe _Francis_, and perhaps their last on earth. The fare was not verytempting, for what could the cooks do under such circumstances? Butthe passengers felt no disposition to complain. Indeed, they hadlittle appetite to eat, and were only making a pretence of doing so,when a sailor burst into the cabin, his bronzed face blanched withfear, as he shouted breathlessly,--

  "Captain says for all to come up on deck. The ship will strike in aminute."

  Instantly there was wild confusion and a mad rush for thecompanion-way; but Major Maunsell waited to take Eric's hand tightlyinto his before pressing on with the others. When they reached thedeck an awful scene met their eyes. The fog had lifted considerably,so that it was possible to see some distance from the ship; and there,right across her bows, not more than a quarter of a mile away, atremendous line of breakers stretched as far as eye could see.

  Straight into their midst the _Francis_ was helplessly driving at thebidding of the storm-fiend. No possible way of escape! Not only didthe breakers extend to right and left until they were lost in theshifting fog, but the nearest line was evidently only an advance-guard;for beyond it other lines, not less formidable, could be dimlydescried, rearing their snowy crests of foam as they rolled fiercelyonward.

  "Heaven help us!" cried Major Maunsell, as with one swift glance hetook in the whole situation; and drawing Eric close to him, he made hisway through the confusion to the foot of the main-mast, which offered asecure hold for the time being.

  A few minutes later the _Francis_ struck the first bar with a shockthat sent everybody who had not something to hold on to tumbling uponthe deck. But for the major's forethought, both he and Eric might atthat moment have been borne off into the boiling surges; for atremendous billow rushed upon the helpless vessel, sweeping her fromstern to stem, and carrying away a number of the soldiers, who, havingnothing to hold on by, were picked up like mere chips of wood andhurried to their doom. Their wild cries for the help that could not begiven them pierced the ears of the others, who did not know but thatthe next billow would treat them in like manner.

  Again and again was the ill-starred ship thus swept by the billows,each time fresh victims falling to their fell fury. Then came a waveof surpassing size, which, lifting the _Francis_ as though she had beena mere feather, bore her over the bar into the deeper water beyond.Here, after threatening to go over upon her beam-ends, she righted oncemore, and drove on toward the next bar.