Chapter IV (9)

Thus a fortnight passed away satisfactorily enough but for the wretched food and the baffling winds, that would not permit them to make more than a meagre handful of miles per day towards the land, and worried Tom not a little with the idea that perhaps the Gulf Stream might be sweeping them steadily eastward at a much greater rate than they were able to sail west. But he did not whisper a syllable of his fears to his shipmate in case of disheartening that docile darky, whom even now he often caught wistfully looking towards him, as if for some further comfort. He himself was full of high hopes, building a fantastic mental edifice upon the prospect of being able to make the land unaided, and therefore becoming entitled not only to the glory of a great exploit in ship-handling but also to the possession of a fortune, as he knew full well his share of the salvage of this ship would be. For although she contained but a cheap cargo of lumber, yet from her size and sea-worthiness she was worth a very large sum could she be brought into port without further injury, her hull being, as sailors say, “as tight as a bottle”--that is, she leaked not at all. But both the shipmates were puzzled almost to distraction to account for a vessel in her condition being abandoned. Nearly every spare moment in which they could be together was devoted to the discussion of this mystery, and dark Jem showed a most fertile inventiveness in bringing out new theories, none of which, however, could throw the slightest glimmer of explanation upon the subject. Except that from the disorder of the cabin and fo’c’sle, and the absence of the boats, with their lashings left just as they had been hacked adrift, there was no other clue to the going of her crew; and, if, as was probable, the deserters had afterwards been lost by the swamping of their frail craft, this mystery was but another item in the long list of unravelled sea-puzzles.

But one evening the sun set in a lowering red haze, which, though dull like a dying fire, stained the oily-looking sea as if with stale blood. The feeble uncertain wind sank into fitful breaths, and at last died completely away. Gigantic masses of gloomy cloud came into being, apparently without motion of any kind, marshalling their vast formlessness around the shrinking horizon. As the last lurid streaks faded out of the sky, and utter darkness enfolded them, the two lonely wanderers clung together, as if by the touch of each other’s living bodies to counteract the benumbing effect of the terrible quiet. Deeper, denser grew the darkness, heavier grew the burden of silence, until at the thin cry of a petrel out of the black depths their hearts felt most grateful. It was like a tiny message telling them that the world was not yet dead. A sudden, hissing spiral of blue flame rent the clouds asunder, and immediately, as if it leaped upon them through the jagged cleft in that grim barrier, the gale burst. Wind, lightning, thunder, rain; all joined in that elemental orchestra, with ever-increasing fury of sound as they smote upon the amazed sea, as if in angry scorn of its smoothness. In the midst of that tremendous tumult the two chums were powerless--they dared not move from the helm, even though, with yards untrimmed, their presence there was useless. But, in some curious freak of the neglected vessel, she flung her head off the wind farther and farther until the boy suddenly snatched at hope again, and spun the wheel round to assist her. Off she went before the wind like a hunted thing, and knowing it was their only chance for life, the two friends laboured to keep her so. It was so dark that they could not see anything aloft, so that they did not know how far the small amount of sail on her when the gale burst still remained; but that mattered little, since they were powerless in any case. But they stuck to their steering, caring nothing for the course made as long as she could be kept before the gale. And in the bitter grey of the morning they saw a graceful shape, dim and indefinite, yet near, that reminded them painfully of their late vessel and her hapless crew. The shadowy stranger drew nearer, until, with thumping hearts, they recognized one of the schooners belonging to that daring, hardy service, the New York Pilots. Rushing to the side, Tom waved his arms, for they were now so close together that he could see the figures grouped aft. With consummate seamanship, the schooner was manœuvred towards the ship until so close that three men sprang from her rail into the ship’s mizzen rigging. Few words passed, but leaving one of their number at the wheel, the other two worked like giants to get a little sail set, while the schooner, shaking out a reef, bounded ahead to bespeak steam aid.

With such assistance, the troubles of the two wanderers were now at an end, and in less than thirty hours they were snugly anchored in New York harbour, with a blazing fire in the galley and a Christian meal before them. At the Salvage Court, held soon after, their share came to $7,000, equally divided between the two of them, the pilot crew receiving $3,000 for their two days’ work. Feeling like millionaires, they hurried back to Gloster, fully agreed to do what they could for the benefit of their late shipmates’ bereaved ones, and handing over to the authorities for that purpose on their arrival half of their gains. Then Jem, declaring that he had seen all he wanted of fishing, opened a small oyster saloon in Gloster, while Tom, aided by the advice of a gentleman who was greatly interested in the whole story, entered himself at Columbia College. He will be heard of again.

THE END

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Transcriber’s Notes

Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they were not changed.

Dialect spacing and variations were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left unbalanced.

Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs and outside quotations. In versions of this eBook that support hyperlinks, the page references in the List of Illustrations lead to the corresponding illustrations.

Page 96: “hard-earned pay” was printed as “hard-earned lay”. Changed here.

End of Project Gutenberg's Deep-Sea Plunderings, by Frank Thomas Bullen