Chapter XXVII: Frank Gazed Aghast

The sun had already risen when the party once more found themselves by the beacon. Frank gazed aghast almost; for almost close to the southern beach of the island, and evidently running ashore, was a strangely dismantled old brig. It was the _Resolute_.

Her sails hung in tatters from the yards, her jibboom and foretopgallant mast had been carried away as if she had been in collision, and there was not a sign of life to be seen anywhere about her decks. She was drifting almost broadside on towards the shore, on which, long before they could possibly reach her, it was evident enough she would dash like a heap of drift wood. There was, however, no sea on, and until it came on to blow she might lie quietly enough.

No time was now lost in getting back to camp and taking the boat out.

Hardly anyone spoke a word as they rowed out through the gap, round the point, and bore up towards the brig. They were willing to wait to find some solution of the seeming mystery of her arrival, rather than to hazard guesses concerning it.

Yes, she had grounded, but not broadside on to the beach, as they all thought she would. The send of the tide had caught her stern and brought her round, and she lay on the soft sandy bottom--bows on to the shore.

Evidently she was half full of water, else she would have drifted farther in.

It was by no means difficult to scramble on board, therefore, despite the fact that her iron works were a mass of rust, and her bulwarks green and slimy. So too were the decks. She lay with a slight list to port, and our heroes, who had boarded at that side, found it somewhat difficult to reach the companion, so slippery were her decks.

Before going below they stood for a few minutes to gaze about them.

Dilapidation everywhere! She looked as a ship that has been long sunk beneath the salt seas would appear, if suddenly raised again.

Frank and Fred exchanged glances.

"How do you feel, Fred?"

"I feel," was the reply, "like one who stands on the confines of another world. Oh, mercy on us, Frank! where has this ship been during these long six months and over, and where is her unhappy crew?"

"They must have left her, Fred. See, there isn't a single boat visible, and the iron davits are slued round towards the sea."

"Yes, it is evident, Frank, she is a derelict. And the probability is she had run on shore on some reef after being deserted, and has lain there ever since till floated by an extra high tide.

"Well, Fred, it's all a puzzle to me; but I'd give a good deal to know where the skipper and the crew are. Come below."

The ship had been partially battened down, making it evident that she had been deserted soon after, or even during, a gale of wind, the crew believing she was settling down.

Before going below they proceeded to open the hatches in order to let both light and air between decks. They had just passed the fore hatch, when their nostrils were assailed by a foul and awful odour proceeding from the galley.

"There's something wrong here, sir," said Magilvray.

"Mac," said Fred, "will you venture down?"

"That I will, sir."

Presently he re-appeared. He was looking scared and amazed.

"Oh, sir," he cried, "there be two skeletons yonder in irons, sir! I mean what I say," he added, in reply to the looks of astonishment depicted on Fred's face and Frank's. "And what is more, sir, they're the self-same chaps as we picked up afore we found the _Resolute_ in the southern sea of ice."

"This is awful," said Fred. "Frank, will you come below?

"Yes, Fred."

Down the fore ladder they went.

It was a horrible sight their eyes alighted on. For a few moments the semi-darkness dazed them; but soon every detail became distinct enough. Both corpses lay on their backs, their skeleton legs still encompassed by the iron staples that bound them to a long strong bar of steel. Only by their clothes, and by a ring on the finger of one, could they have been distinguished. The old place was alive with gigantic cockroaches, and loathsome centipedes crept about the skulls of the skeletons, and disappeared to hide in their eye sockets, while rats, tame from starvation, crawled here and there on the deck. It was evident enough that the wretched men had been guilty of some crime that had necessitated their being put in irons, and that they had been entirely forgotten during the hurry and scurry of lowering the boats and leaving the ship. And so--awful fate!--they must have slowly starved and died. Probably been partly eaten alive by the rats, with which Frank said the ship had always abounded.

The young men were glad indeed when they found themselves once more on deck under the blue sky, and breathing the sweet pure air of heaven.

"I shan't be sorry," said Frank, "when we get on shore out of this awful charnel-house of a ship. I hope there is nothing dreadful to see in the saloon."

Thither they now bent their steps, and descended the slimy ladder.

There was everywhere below the same evidence of hurried desertion. The store-room door was open, boxes and small casks had been partially hauled out, and left where they stood. The compass that usually hangs under the skylight had been taken down, but left on the table beside the chronometer. In the captain's stateroom the bedclothes in the bunk were in disorder, and on a table near stood propped up a half-empty bottle of rum.

The ship's log lay on the saloon floor, and a glance at it showed that the last entry had been made on the very day our castaways had left the _San Salvador_ for the mirage island.

"I'm glad," said Frank, "there are no more corpses here."

"So am I; but now, Frank, it is a duty we owe ourselves to save all we can out of this derelict vessel, that Providence has guided to the shores of our island."

"By the looks o' the horizon, sir," said Mac, "it won't be long afore we has a storm."

"In that case, Mac, we ought to begin work at once."

So a consultation was hurriedly held as to what should first be saved.

There were plenty of rifles on board and ammunition, and there were also carpenters' tools of all sorts. These to the castaways were by far and away the most valuable portions of the brig's cargo. So without any unnecessary delay these were got up and safely landed on the beach. None too soon, however, for already a heavy swell was rolling in from the south and lifting and bumping the after part of the vessel.

With the exception of some tinned meats and soup the provisions on board were found to be utterly worthless; but Quambo's eyes brightened, and so did Mac's, when they came across the tobacco cask. That was saved. There was rum in abundance, but no one evinced the slightest inclination to take a single bottle on shore. Books, the compass, and the chronometer were the last things to be taken away.

But the breakers were now roaring and thundering on the beach, and so it was deemed unsafe to go off to the derelict any more that day. Instead therefore of returning to their camp they built themselves a tent under the trees with spars and canvas taken from the vessel, and prepared to pass the night here, so as to be ready to begin work early next day again.

It was a very dark night, for the sky had become overcast with heavy clouds, and the wind was beginning to moan through the trees with a sound that betokened a coming storm. But dinner had put everyone in good temper, and luxuries to-night had been enjoyed that they had never expected to taste again. Besides, they had a lamp to burn and books to read. What more could any castaway desire?

They had saved also two chests of clothing, and would therefore be quite independent of cavies' skins for many a day to come, or, as Frank said, until the real living ship arrived with living beings on it instead of corpses, and took them away back to their far-off home beyond the seas.

I am afraid that long before dinner was discussed that evening, they had forgotten all about the terrible fate of the poor wretches who had been left chained up in the derelict to be eaten alive by rats. They were all very happy and very hopeful too to-night. A ship was sure to come some day, and a few months more or less on this island could not signify a great deal.

"Give us a song," cried Frank.

And it was not one song they sang, but half a dozen at least; and then they lay around the lamp and talked of home and old, old times.

* * * * * *

It was just about this time, if they had only known it, that Captain Cawdor, after landing Señor Sarpinto at San Francisco, had left his ship, and crossing to New York, had taken the mail for Liverpool.

He went thence to Glasgow, and after meeting and reporting himself to his brother shipowners, and telling them of all his adventures and doings, he set out for Methlin, to break the sad news to Fred's people.

What a lovely summer's-day it was when Captain Cawdor, on board the cutter he had hired, sailed slowly into Methlin Bay.

How blue the hills looked, asleep under the cerulean sky; how sweetly green the birchen trees; how peaceful the village, with the wee, white, brown-thatched cottages. And he, this truly good and kind old sailor, had come to bring grief to all it contained.

"Oh," he thought, "if I could only give them even an atom of hope! But, alas! I cannot."

Eean was glad to see him. They had met before; but a glance told the old fisherman and his wife that the white-haired sailor was the bearer of bad tidings.

Long, long after Toddie--from whom the sad news was withheld--had gone to bed and was fast asleep, the old people sat beside the fire, and it is needless to say what the subject of their conversation was. But though Eppie's eyes were red with weeping, and she had even forgotten her spinning-wheel, neither she nor Eean were entirely hopeless.

"No, no," said Eean, "something tells me my boy still lives. He is somewhere in those seas; and though I am willing to submit to the will of our heavenly Father, I believe that he will yet return.

"And tell me now, Captain Cawdor, all about this Señor Sarpinto. Do you know, captain, I'm strangely interested in this man. And what is more, his very name seems familiar to me. But where I have met him, or how or when, is to me a mystery. I must dream over it, and--yes, and pray over it. Yet somehow I think Sarpinto is mixed up in our history."

Then Captain Cawdor told them all he knew.

* * * * * *

"Why, Fred," said Frank, "the wind is rising! Listen!"

The wind was undoubtedly getting up. The canvas of the rude tent began to flap, and mingled with the boom of the breakers on the shore came the steadier roar of the breeze in the trees overhead.

In these regions storms come on at times with terrible suddenness, and rage with wondrous force. And this occasion proved no exception.

Half an hour after the wind had commenced to moan through the leaves of the pandanus forest, the storm was at its height, accompanied by such terrible thunder and such vivid lightning as none of our castaways had ever experienced before. Anon the rain came down in torrents, but the wind lost none of its force.

All that night the hurricane raged, and for the first time since they had come to the island our heroes knew what it was to feel cold. They were wet too, as well as cold, for the frail impromptu tent proved but a poor protection against the violence of so awful a storm.

Towards the earlier hours, despite the incessant noise, all must have slept, and it was broad daylight before they again awoke.

Fred sat up rubbing his eyes, and for a time wondering where he was. Then all the strange events of the previous day rushed back to his mind, and he got up and staggered out.

The wind still blew high, but it was evidently dying down.

But where was the brig _Resolute_? Was she gone again, or had it all been a dream?