Chapter VI: The Last of the Brave Barque “boo-Boo-Boo”

All that day the _musgo_ lasted. The night closed in early. It closed in so pitchy dark and gloomy, that even Captain D’Acre himself was fain to confess he had never seen anything to compare with it.

It lacked to some extent, however, the strange mystery associated with the deep silence of the black nights they had experienced in the straits. It was not silent to-night, for the head wind continued to blow, and great seas, houses high, rolled in from the west, making the motion of the vessel when tacking very disagreeable.

It might have been about four bells in the morning watch when a wild shout arose from the men, who, more for custom’s sake than any use they could be, were stationed at the bows to look out.

“Keep her away, keep her away, for God’s sake.”

“Port your helm--hard a port!”

Even against the blackness of the night, they had seen a monstrous shape, dark as Erebus, bearing down upon them.

The helm was put hard a port, but alas! it was too late. Next moment down with the send of a great sea came the shape. There was a crash amidships, as if the _Boo-boo-boo_ had been blown broadside on to a rock. She heeled over till her starboard-yard ends almost touched the water. No one on board expected she could right herself again, yet slowly she did so, and was once more upon an even keel.

The pumps were now got to work; the barque was badly stove, and filling fast.

By those of the crew not engaged pumping, an attempt was made, under the supervision of the mate, to rig a device, with the aid of poles, blankets, and tarpaulins, to stop if possible the terrible leak. This was lowered over the side, and was far more successful than could have been expected.

But it was evident to all that the ship could not be kept long afloat, so all haste was now made to get the boats ready, and to provision and arm them.

Before this business was completed daylight began to glare, yellow and grey, through the fog; but the fog by itself was evidently thinner, and presently it lifted entirely, and went rolling away like a tall black wall to leeward. Then the sun shone over the sea with a brightness that was quite dazzling.

“Look!” cried the mate to the captain, “what is that down to leeward? A ship, sir?”

“It is a ship,” replied D’Acre gloomily; “she is doubtless a derelict, and she it was who worked our ruin.”

“A derelict, sir?”

“Yes, mate; there are many of them in these seas, and they constitute a danger against which the mariner is powerless to guard himself.”[8]

“But come,” he continued, “we will put about and bear down towards her. She is high out of the water, and still has one mast and her jibboom standing. She cannot have been abandoned long.”

“Ready about!” shouted the mate. “Tacks and sheets!”

The vessel’s course was now altered and though she yawed about in a disagreeable and even alarming manner, she made fair progress down towards the derelict vessel.

Captain D’Acre laid her right alongside and grappled, or secured, the two vessels together.

Then the captain, with Sandie and Willie, scrambled on to the deck of the forsaken ship.

Their feelings as they did so may be better imagined than described. Curiosity, perhaps, was upper-most in their minds, but it was a curiosity mixed with awe.

What was the mystery? they wondered. Ah! the sea hath many mysteries, and here was one of them, yet it seemed one that was not inexplicable, not impossible to ravel.

The deck was hampered with a litter of wreck, fallen spars and rigging. There were no boats to be seen. It seemed evident that the ship had been taken aback or struck by a sudden squall, and that, believing she was sinking, a panic had seized upon the crew and they had left in the boats. There was every appearance of a hasty exodus, for stores lay about the deck where they had fallen, tinned meats, and even bottled beer.

But there was now no living thing on board.

Yes, there was though; for while they were yet gazing around them in surprise and wonder, a beautiful young tom-cat made his appearance, a red tabby he was, and commenced singing aloud as he rubbed himself against Sandie’s leg.

Sandie took the poor puss up in his arms, smoothed it and spoke kindly to it.

“Jump on board the _Boo-boo-boo_, Willie, and fetch the poor creature a bit of meat.”

Willie was off in a moment, and soon returned with a plate of food, which the cat ate ravenously.

It surely spoke well for the goodness of those young men’s hearts that, in the midst of their own sore trouble and danger, they could think about a cat.

* * * * *

The mate and captain now held a consultation, and the derelict was thoroughly examined. There was a considerable amount of water in her hold, and she was leaking badly, but with care she would float a week, while, alas! the poor _Boo-boo-boo_ might sink at any moment, and certainly would go down in a few hours.

It was determined, therefore, to take possession of the derelict, and with this view the _Boo-boo-boo’s_ boats, spare spars, water, provisions, with everything useful, were transferred on board her.

There was hurry, certainly, for there was no time to lose, but there was no confusion.

As soon as everything was done, it being evident the _Boo-boo-boo_ was going fast, all hands got out of her and she was cut adrift. At the same time sail was made on the foremast--the only remaining one--and jibboom of the derelict, and she was soon well off from the doomed and sinking barque.

None too soon. Her end came with a rapidity that was extraordinary. The tarpaulin arrangement had doubtless shifted from her side, and the water rushed in.

Her whole fore part rose for a moment and trembled in the air. Next minute, she went down with a fearful sounding plunge, stern first. The frothy bubbling waters closed over her, and this was the last of the brave barque _Boo-boo-boo_.