Ben Burton: Born and Bred at Sea

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  When I came to the surface, I found myself amidst a mass of wreck, andseveral human beings struggling desperately for dear life. Some werecrying out for help, others clutching at fragments of timber whichfloated near, and others striking out and keeping themselves afloat bytheir own exertions. I had become a pretty good swimmer, and seeing apart of the wreck above water not far from me, I made towards it. On myway I saw a person clinging to a spar a couple of fathoms off. "Who isthat?" said a voice. It was that of Dicky Esse. "Burton," I answered."Oh! Do help me!" he cried out. "I cannot swim, and I cannot hold onmuch longer, and if I do not reach the wreck I shall drop off and bedrowned!"

  "Hold on," I shouted, "and perhaps I may be able to tow the spar up tothe wreck. I will try at all events; but do not let go, Dicky! Do noton any account!"

  I swam to the spar, and, partly resting on it, shoved it before metowards the wreck, but still I made but slow progress. I was afraidthat I should be obliged, after all, to give it up, as I felt mystrength going, when a man swimming powerfully reached us. "Help!Help! Do help me!" I cried out. He said nothing, but just touchingthe spar with one hand, so as not to sink it deeper in the water, heshoved it on till we reached the wreck. The hammock nettings were justabove water, and afforded us a better resting-place than we could haveexpected. "Thank you! Thank you!" I said, as the man hauled Dicky andme into this place of refuge. "What shall we next do?"

  "Wait till morning, and if we are then alive, we must get on shore asbest we can," he answered. I knew by the voice and accent of thespeaker that he was Mr Noalles. The bright stars shining down from thesky gave us sufficient light to distinguish objects at a considerabledistance. As we looked out we saw several other persons still alive,some swimming, others holding on to bits of timber. We shouted out tothem, lest they should not be aware that they could obtain a place torest on, at all events, until morning. A voice not far off answered us."Who is that?" I cried out, for I thought I recognised it. "TobyKiddle, sir," was the answer. He was swimming up towards us. "I havejust passed Mr Pember clinging to a piece of the wreck. I will go backand try to bring him here."

  "I will go with you," I said.

  "No, no, youngster, stay where you are," observed Mr Noalles; "you willbe drowned if you make the attempt; I will go!" The next instant he wasstriking out in the direction in which Toby was now swimming.

  Esse and I watched them anxiously as they disappeared in the gloom. Iwas very thankful to think that Toby Kiddle was alive, but I could nothelp wishing that Pat Brady had escaped also, as I knew that he had beenon deck and close to Kiddle. While we were looking out for the returnof our shipmates, another man, one of the seamen, reached the wreck. Hesaid he was greatly scorched, and it seemed surprising that he shouldhave been able to swim so far. There were yet a number of peoplefloating about alive, and when we shouted several voices answered us.Among them I thought I recognised Pat's. "Brady, is that you?" I criedout. "By the powers it's myself, I belave," answered Pat, "but where Ihave been to, or what I have been about, or where this is happeningbothers me particularly. And how I am ever to get to you is more than Ican tell."

  "I must go to help him," said I to Esse, "for he will be drifted away,even if he manages to cling to whatever he has got hold of."

  "But surely he is drifting towards us," observed Esse. "He has gotnearer since he began to speak." Such indeed was the case, and evenbefore Kiddle and Mr Noalles returned with Pember, not only Pat, buttwo or three other men had been drifted up to us. Pat had helpedhimself along by striking out with his feet, though he was but a poorswimmer; indeed, I have scarcely ever met an Irish seaman who couldswim. We could make out other people still floating at some distance.Now and then a cry was heard. We shouted in return, but there was noreply. It was the last despairing utterance of one of our shipmates,before he sank below the surface. Those on the wreck were already soexhausted that no one could go to their assistance. There were rathermore than a dozen altogether, I believe, clinging to the wreck. Severalof them, from the exclamations they uttered, I found were suffering fromscorching, or the blows they had received from falling pieces of thewreck.

  Morning at length dawned upon us poor human beings--the sole survivorsof the ship's company, who but a few hours before were I enjoying lifeand strength. Just then the words which I had heard at the funeral cameacross my mind--"In the midst of life we are in death." How true it hadproved to them. It might prove true to us also, for our prospects ofescape were small indeed. Pieces of the wreck were floating aboutaround us, and I thought I made out two or three people still holding onto the fragments, but I could not be certain. In the far distance werethe shores of the island. It seemed so far off, that we could scarcelyhope to reach it; yet reach it we must, if our lives were to be saved.The sea was smooth, and the warmth of the water prevented our beingbenumbed from being so long in it. Still, as the sun rose, all handsbegan to complain of thirst. Something must be done, however. I askedPember what he would advise, as he, being the highest in rank among us,would have to take the command; but his drinking habits had unnervedhim, and he answered, incoherently, "We must swim, I suppose, if wecannot get the wreck under way." Esse and I then turned to Mr Noalles.He had occasionally uttered a deep groan, as if in pain. I found thathe was severely hurt, partly from the fire, and also from the blows hehad received. At first, apparently, he had not been aware how seriouslyhe had been injured. "We must build a raft, lads," he answered atlength. "See! Here is the main-yard alongside of us, with themain-sail and plenty of rope hanging on to it. We shall have no lack ofmaterials, but there are not many of us, I am afraid, fit for the work."He spoke too truly. Esse and I had escaped the best. Kiddle, also,was only slightly injured, and two of the ship's company had escaped,while all the rest were more or less hurt, two or three of them verybadly. It seemed a wonder they could have got on to the wreck, whilePember, either from external injury or the shock his nerves hadreceived, was likely to be of little use.

  While we were looking out for the spars and pieces of timber to form ourraft, a round object appeared at a little distance. "It's a pumpkin!"cried one of the men. I darted into the water and struck out for it.Thankful, indeed, was I to get such a prize. I soon brought it back.It was meat and drink to us, and though, divided into so many, there waslittle for each, yet it might assist in saving our lives. A doubleshare was awarded me, but I declined taking more than the rest. Itrevived us greatly, and with our strength somewhat restored, we beganthe building of our raft. Those who could swim every now and thenstruck off to get hold of pieces of wood to serve our purpose. Amongother things the jolly-boat's mast was found, and it was agreed that itwould serve us well for a mast for the raft. It was hard work gettingup the canvas which hung down in the water, but at length with ourknives we cut off a sufficient quantity for a sail. The rope served asfor lashing the spars which we had collected together. At length wemanaged to get a frame-work formed. Across this we lashed other sparsand planks, but it was a very slow business, for some of the men couldonly use one hand. Others had their legs so injured that they could notmove from where they sat; while so greatly diminished was the strengthof everyone of us, that we were unable to secure the lashings asthoroughly as was necessary.

  "It is to be hoped no sea will be after getting up, or all our fine workwill be tumbling to pieces entirely," observed Pat, as he surveyed whatwe had done.

  "This will never do as it is," observed Mr Noalles. "We must build aplatform on the top of it, to keep us out of the water."

  There was no lack of materials to do as he proposed, and we, therefore,immediately set about building the platform. Its weight brought thelower part of the raft deeper into the water, but that could not behelped. Some hours passed by while we were thus engaged, and againthirst attacked us. We had only eaten half the pumpkin. Some of themen entreated that they might have the remainder. "Give it them--giveit them," sang out Pember, "an
d give me a piece. It is the last morselwe shall probably put into our mouths." The fruit was cut up intotwelve small slices, and distributed evenly. Even now I recollect thedelight with which my teeth crunched the cool fruit. Every particle,rind and all, was consumed, as may be supposed. We now stepped ourmast, and got a sail ready for hoisting. As the raft was small forsupporting so many people, great care was necessary in balancingourselves on it. Mr Noalles, who was evidently suffering greatly, andthree of the men who were most injured, were placed on the platform inthe centre. The rest of us ranged ourselves round them, Kiddle steeringwith a spar, which we had rigged as a rudder. There was very littlewind; what there was, was blowing in the direction of the low land ofSumatra, which we calculated to be about four leagues off. Mr Noallestold us that some fifteen or twenty leagues to the north of it was aDutch settlement. If we could reach it, we might there obtainassistance. By this time Pember had roused up a little, and was able toassume the command of our frail craft, for when he had his proper witsabout him he was a very good seaman. Noalles, meantime, was gettingworse and worse. It was nearly two hours after noon before our task wasaccomplished. We had picked up everything we could find floating aboutthe wreck, but not a particle of food appeared, nor did a cask of waterpass near us. What would we not have given for that. All this time thesun, in burning splendour, had been beating down upon our unprotectedheads, for most of us had lost our hats. I secured a handkerchief roundmy head, and Esse did the same.

  "Are you all ready, lads?" asked Pember. "Ay! Ay! Sir," was theanswer. "Then shove off, and I pray we may reach yonder coast beforedark." We glided slowly on. For some time we appeared to beapproaching the land. Then, from the way we moved, we discovered that acurrent was running, and was carrying us to the southward, rather awayfrom than nearer the point we hoped to reach. Mr Noalles, who was justable to sit up, saw what was happening.

  "I thought so," he muttered. "With so great a wretch as I am on board,there is little chance of the raft reaching the shore. If the peoplewere wise they would heave me overboard; but, oh! I am not fit to die.I dare not face death and that which is to come after it!"

  These words were said in so low a tone that I alone, who was sittingclose to him, could understand him.

  "Die! Did I say? And yet how often have I faced death, without amoment's thought of the future, or a grain of fear!"

  "What makes you then think so much about it now, sir?" I asked. "Ihope we shall get on shore, and that you will recover." I was anxiousto calm the feelings of the poor man, though I was scarcely surprised tohear him speak as he did.

  "Is that you, Burton?" he said, hearing my voice. "They tell me that wehave been shipmates before, and that I was on board the ship when youwere born; but I don't remember the circumstance."

  "I have been told so," I said, "and the man steering, Toby Kiddle,remembers you."

  "Ah! Yes, I think I have an idea of your mother--a pretty woman. Whereis she now?" And I told him that she was living with Mrs and theMisses Schank, and I added, "There is another sister--a Mrs Lindars,whose husband deserted her."

  "Mrs Lindars?" he said slowly, "and is she still alive?"

  "Yes," I answered, rather astonished at the question.

  "I have been saved another crime!" he muttered between his teeth. Hewas silent for some minutes. Then he abruptly addressed me. "Burton, Ibelieve I am dying. I should like to make a clear bosom before I go outof the world. A viler wretch than I am has never been borne shriekingthrough the air by demons to the place of torment. You speak of MrsLindars. She is my wife, for that is my real name. I have borne manysince then. I was young then, and so was she--very young and verybeautiful, I thought. I wished to run away with her, but she would notconsent, and we married. At first I thought I could settle down in thecountry, and support myself by my literary and musical talents. I soonfound that this would not bring me a sufficient income to supply mywants, for I had somewhat luxurious tastes. My wife gave birth to achild--a daughter. She was a sweet little creature. I loved her in away I never loved anything before. Each year she increased in beauty.At length I had an opportunity of obtaining a large sum by committing acrime. A fearful crime it was, and yet I did not hesitate. It wasnecessary to fly the country. I could not bear the thoughts of leavingmy child behind me. It was a cruel act to desert my wife, and stillmore cruel to carry away the child, for I knew that her mother loved heras much as I did. My wife was ill, and I pretended to take the child tosee a relation, from whom I told her I had expectations. I knew shecould not follow me. Changing my name, I crossed to France where I hadrelations. I never cared for gambling, or I should probably quicklyhave got through my ill-acquired wealth. I had followed the sea duringthe early part of my life, and soon again I got tired of remaining onshore. I was eager to start on a new expedition, but what to do with mydaughter in the meanwhile I could not decide. I ought in commonhumanity to have sent her back to her poor mother; but had I done so, Iwas afraid I should not be able again to see her. She was so young whenI took her away that she did not know her real name. I thereforecarried her to Jersey, to which island my family belonged, and thereleft her, pretending that her mother was French, and had died soon afterher birth. The arrangement having been made, I came out to the IndianSeas and China, and, engaging in the opium trade, made a considerablesum of money. I lost, however, the larger portion, and then once more,seized with a desire to see my child, I returned to Jersey. I found hergrown into a beautiful girl. A new undertaking had presented itself tome. I would go out to India, and make my fortune by serving under oneof the native princes. I had several times visited that country duringmy wanderings. My daughter, I knew, would materially aid me in myundertaking. As I placed before her the advantages to be gained in themost glowing colours, and hid what I knew would be objectionable, shewillingly consented to accompany me. Her beauty, I felt sure, wouldenable me to secure a wealthy marriage for her, but, as that might notassist my views, I secretly resolved to throw her in the way of somenative prince, and she, once becoming his favourite wife, I felt verysure that I should rise to the highest offices in his court. Thedegradation to which I was dooming my child did not deter me; indeed, Ipersuaded myself that I was about to procure a splendid position forher, which she might well be satisfied to gain."