Captain Mugford Part 9

"We'll get through it yet, lads, G.o.d protecting us," he sung out. "But all hands must try and do their duty. You know Nelson's last general order--'England expects that every man this day will do his duty.' That same motto carried out has saved many a stout s.h.i.+p and rich cargo, and the neglect of it has lost many more. Now, there's work for all of you.

Walter, do you rig the pump, and Bob, do you help him, and the rest of you set to and bale. Be smart, now. There are two skids and a bucket, or use your hats. Anyhow, the boat must be cleared."

He spoke deliberately, not to alarm us, but at the same time we all saw that there was no time to be lost. Walter and I now got the pump to work, while the rest set to and baled away with might and main. I also joined them, using my hat as the Captain advised, for Walter could easily work the pump by himself. Still, in spite of the excellent steering of the old skipper, the seas came tumbling in over the bows and sides also so rapidly that it was hard work for us to keep the boat clear. Besides this, (notwithstanding her name, being an old boat), she strained so much that the seams opened and made her leak fearfully. It soon, indeed, became a question--and a very serious one--whether the boat could be kept afloat till we should reach our own harbour. We were now laying well up for the cape, though we were making what sailors call "very bad weather of it;" but, should the wind s.h.i.+ft a little, and come more ahead, we might have a dead beat of several hours before us. We saw the skipper looking out anxiously at the reef I have described. A considerable portion, even at the highest tides, was several feet above water, and easily accessible. As the rock also afforded a shelter to numerous seafowl, which built their nests in its crevices, it would afford some security to a few human beings. Still, during a gale such as was now blowing, the sea washed tumultuously round the rock, and rendered the landing--even on the lee side--not only difficult but dangerous. I, for one, did not at all like the condition of the boat; still, as the skipper had hitherto said nothing, I did not like to propose that we should try to land on the reef. The old man was silent for some time; he again scanned the reef, and then he turned his eyes to the distant sh.o.r.e.

"Boys," he said at last, "I wish you not to be alarmed. The boat may very possibly keep above water till we reach the cape, if you can bale out the seas as fast as they wash in; but I am bound to tell you that there is a risk of our being swamped if we were to meet such a sea as I have seen, under like circ.u.mstances, come rolling in. There lies Boatswain's Reef--in five minutes we may be safe upon it--but much depends on your coolness and courage. The most difficult and dangerous movement will be the leaping on sh.o.r.e. Do you, Walter, make a rope fast round the bits; unreeve the fore halliards, they will suit best, and are new and strong. That will do; secure them well, and coil the rope carefully, so that it may run out free of everything. Now stand with the rope in your hand, and as I bring the boat up to the rock, do you leap out, and spring up to the upper part, where you will find a jagged point or more to which to make it fast. The rest of you, when the boat touches the rock, be ready to spring on sh.o.r.e; but remember, don't spring till I tell you. I'll call each of you by name, and the first on sh.o.r.e must stand by to help the others. There, I can't say more, except one word--be steady, and cool, and trust in G.o.d."

Walter did as directed, and we all stood watching the skipper's eye, that we might obey him directly he gave the word. It is a most important thing to have confidence in a commander. It is the great secret of England's success in most instances. Although there may be many shortcomings, both her soldiers and sailors know that, in nine cases out of ten, they will be well and bravely led, and the officers know also that they will be thoroughly supported by the men. If they go ahead, there will never be a want of men to follow them, even to the cannon's mouth.

On we dashed, amid the boiling, foaming seas. We had to continue pumping and baling as energetically as before. Had we ceased, but for half a minute, it seemed as if the boat would to a certainty go down, even before we could reach the rock. Captain Mugford did not address us again, but kept his eyes watching, now the heavy seas which came rolling up on the weather bow, and now the black rock towards which we were standing. All the time we kept carefully edging away, till we were under the lee of the reef--of that part, however, over which the sea broke with great force. Still, the water was smoother than it had been for some time. We stood on, continuing to bale.

Suddenly the Captain cried out, "Now, lads, to your feet, and be ready to spring on sh.o.r.e when I give the word." We all jumped up. Walter stepped forward and took the rope in his hand, as he had been directed.

The Captain luffed up, and ran the boat alongside the rock; but there was still great way on her, and a tremendous cras.h.i.+ng sound showed us that she had struck the rock below water. Walter sprang on sh.o.r.e, Drake and Harry followed, and as he leapt to the top of the rock, followed to help him make fast the rope round one of its roughest projections. Ugly sprang at the same time, and the rest of us went next--not a moment too soon. I was the last of the boys. The Captain came close behind me.

He was securing another rope round the mast, and, with the end of it in his hand, he leapt on to the rock. As he left the deck, the boat seemed to glide from under him. "Haul, boys! haul! all together," he shouted.

Our united efforts, aided by the surging water, got the fast sinking boat on to a rock. There the boat lay, little better than a wreck; but we were safe. We now saw how anxious our good skipper had been, for, taking off his hat, and looking up to heaven, he exclaimed, with a fervour I did not expect, "Thank G.o.d for His great mercy--they are all safe."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

NIGHT ON THE REEF--OUR SALT TUTE'S SERMON.

Our "salt tute" had gone through many a storm at sea; had once escaped, the only soul saved out of fifty-three, from a foundered bark, and endured five days' suffering, without bread or water, on a raft. But, as I heard him tell Mr Clare afterwards, he had never undergone an experience more painful than those two or three hours of gale in our little cutter. It was his affection for us boys; the reflection that he had proposed the pleasure sail, and the terrible sense of responsibility: those together had tried the old man's heart, head, and nerves, as they had never been tried before.

Among the exciting events of that night, one circ.u.mstance impressed me with astonishment, though it was but small matter perhaps for a boy to have noticed at such a time. It was that the Captain several times expressed himself in terms of piety, and even e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed that prayer when our safety was secured. We had sometimes heard him swear before that, and had always noticed, in contrast to Mr Clare, his indifference to any religious service or subject; indeed, the only emotion we had ever seen him display with regard to such matters was on the occasion of Mr Clare's address after the combat between Drake and Alfred.

It was eight o'clock when we landed on our little rocky island of deliverance. Boatswain's Reef was, as its name described, only half an acre in extent--a jagged, stony reef, raised but a few yards at its highest point above high-tide mark.

Very cold, somewhat anxious, and much exhausted, we found in a few moments the only shelter it afforded--a level place of sand and sea gra.s.s, about six yards square, defended on the south-west by a miniature cliff. There a lot of seaweed had acc.u.mulated, and the driftings of many gales collected. Several barrel staves, a large worm-eaten s.h.i.+p's knee, part of a vessel's stern, with all but the letters "Conq"

obliterated, (the name had probably been _Conqueror_, conquered now, as Alfred observed, by old ocean); and many pieces and splinters of spar.

The Captain made the discovery with us, and immediately suggested that we should shelter ourselves there and light a fire.

"Thanks, boys, to the necessities of my pipe, I always have a tinder-box in my pockets. Perhaps there are some not wet. Here, hunt for them; I'll throw off my pea-jacket, for I must go to work and try to save something from the poor _Youth_--our grub at least. I want you to stay where you are, out of the storm, and to get a good fire going. It may possibly show them on the cape that we are safe."

"O Captain!" exclaimed Walter, "do let me help you. I don't want to sit here and do nothing but build a fire whilst you are at work and perhaps in danger."

"Come along, then, as you are the biggest and strongest--come along,"

replied the Captain, and away they hurried to where our good old boat was groaning on the beach and pounding against rocks with every beat of the sea.

She had been driven up too far to get off easily, but with a big hole in her bows it seemed probable that she would go to pieces before morning.

The sky was black everywhere. The roar of wind and waves was tremendous. The spray dashed in sheets, at every blow of the sea, over our spot of defence, so that it was difficult to start a fire. We were successful, though, and its light showed the figures of the Captain and Walter, by the stranded boat, climbing on board through the froth of the surf; pitched up and down as she tossed and b.u.mped; getting down the tattered sail and hauling it ash.o.r.e; jumping on the beach again with coils of rope; saving all that could be saved. And then, the tide having risen high, both together left her for the last time, bearing, at much risk, the anchor with them, which they fastened in a cleft of the rocks, that when our dear old boat--the home of many and many a fine time--did break up, something might be left of her.

We could not hear their voices, but saw the gestures for us to come and help, and in a few minutes we were all engaged carrying the rescued remnants up to our safe place.

Ugly helped. First he dragged a coil of rope and laid it beside the cliff; then he got hold of a loaf of bread which had dropped from among the other provisions, and carried that with some trouble but much pride.

In the storm and darkness, only fitfully broken by the firelight, we ate our supper under what shelter the low cliff afforded. Our boyish spirits were much subdued and awed by the peril we had pa.s.sed through and the sombre scene about us.

The meal being finished, we made some preparations for the night, fastening the sail, by the weight of large stones laid on one edge of it, to the top of the rock, and then bringing its other edge, the boom side, to the ground and steadying it there with pegs. In that way we constructed a kind of tent, in which we piled a bedding and covering of dry seaweed.

The Captain stood by the fire, smoking his pipe and watching our arrangements. When they were completed, and we boys, gratified with our success, began to declare our situation "rather jolly," he interrupted us somewhat abruptly in this way:--

"You chaps always say your prayers before you sleep, I dare say. If so, you'll not forget them to-night--will you?"

"No, sir," we answered.

"Young s.h.i.+pmates, you remember how Mr Clare talked to you one day in the _Clear the Track_--eh? Well, then, for the first time in nigh forty years--think of that, nigh _forty_ years--I said my prayers, the only ones I ever said, that my--mo--ther taught me; and somehow they came so clear to me that I felt like as if my--mo--ther was kneeling beside me.

I ran away to sea, like the young fool that I was, when I was eleven years old. It was going on four years before I came back to my old home. I had forgotten my prayers. I tried hard to remember them, too, _then_, and some of the Scripture stories and lessons my--mo--ther used to teach me; for she was--gone."

His voice did not tremble, but he spoke very slowly, as if he wanted to speak out to us, and yet wished to do it without betraying the deep feeling that the events of the evening had intensified. Each time before he spoke the words "my mother," he took the pipe from his mouth and hesitated a moment, as if to steady himself. Somehow the old Captain's voice was softer, I thought, than I had ever heard it before-- it may have been fatigue and the noises of the storm that made it sound so. His face, too, looked to me as if it had lost its hard lines and roughness--perhaps the firelight caused that to seem so. And those bold, sharp eyes of his were as gentle as my little sister Aggie's. He continued:--

"Hard times a youngster often has at sea, not in all s.h.i.+ps, but in many, I tell you, and bad companions on every side. No gentle looks or kind words, but knocks and oaths. No time to read, and all that; hardly a chance to think. Well, I was a bad one, and worse when I went back again, and had my--mo--ther no longer to love me, and no one anywhere in the world to care a b.u.t.ton for Rowly," (his Christian name was Roland).

"I was a pretty reckless, hearty, devil-me-care fellow, I tell you. I could rough it and fight my way with the strongest, and never thought further ahead than the moment I was living in. So, for thirty years and more I knocked about the world, coming scot-free through a thousand dangers. Yes, and I got ahead all the time and prospered, thinking mighty well of myself, my _good luck_, clear head, and tough arm. I never thought of G.o.d. I don't know but that I had almost forgotten that there was a G.o.d; at any rate, if I thought of Him, it was with doubt and indifference. Yet, boys, in all that time, 'He cared for me, upheld me, _blessed me_.'"

His words grew hurried and thick, his head was turned so I could not see his face, and the old black pipe had fallen from his fingers to the ground. Ugly walked around and snuffed at it in amazement. But the Captain went on:--

"Now I feel it all--_how_ I _feel_ it--since I heard Mr Clare that day.

Nearly forty years deaf, but I hear G.o.d's voice within me _now_, louder and louder every day; and what has He done for us to-day? How He has spoken! Ah! boys, you'll never be the old sinner I have been.

'Remember _thy_ Creator in the days of thy youth.' Part of the only hymn I can remember, of my mother's, has come again and again to my ear to-night--that--

"'G.o.d moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.'

"I forget the rest, except--

"'Trust Him for His grace: Behind a frowning Providence He hides a smiling face.'

"Boys! turn in now. I am on watch, and shall keep the fire going. Turn in, I tell you."

With those last words to finish his talk and order us to bed, his voice regained its sailor-like strength and roughness, but it melted again as he added--

"My dear old boys, we shall all pray to-night, eh? and from wiser and better hearts. _Thank G.o.d_!"

The last things I was conscious of that night were the whistling of the wind and the roaring of the waves, and the snapping and fizzing of the red embers, thus telling their stories to the storm of the brave s.h.i.+ps of which they once formed parts.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

UGLY VOLUNTEERS--OUR FRESH TUTE TO THE RESCUE!

"Poor old Robinson Crusoe! poor old Robinson Crusoe!

They made him a coat of an old nanny-goat: I wonder how they could do so!

With a ring a ting tang, and a ring a ting tang, Poor old Robinson Crusoe." _Mother Goose_.

The storm broke before morning, and a clear fresh September day opened on us castaways. There was no exertion of ours that could get us home, for our little cutter was a complete wreck, and we had but one of the many requisites for constructing a boat or raft--it consisted of the few planks and timbers of the wreck of the boat which still held together or had been washed upon the beach, and which, if we were not rescued before another morning, must be employed in feeding our fire. All the provisions we had taken with us on our day's voyage were consumed, except one loaf of bread and two pies, but a sufficient supply of the fish had been brought from the cutter to feed us for several meals. Of water--the greatest necessity--there was not a drop on Boatswain's Half-Acre. During the morning, the want of that became a pain, and before night any one of us would have given all he possessed for a single gla.s.s of cold water. Captain Mugford told us that now, for the fourth time in his life, he knew the suffering of thirst.

We must wait to be discovered, to be rescued, and before that we _might die_ of thirst, for our island was only a low rock, and vessels going up and down channel kept generally too far from the reef to allow us to be seen by them on board. We could see our cape, and even the old house, but had no way of making signals, except by the fire at night.