Читать книгу The Wreck of the Nancy Bell; Or, Cast Away on Kerguelen Land - John C. Hutcheson - Страница 18

The calm continued for four days, during which time not a breath of wind came from any point of the compass to waft the ship on her way; although, of course, she could not help drifting a few miles every twenty-four hours southwards, under the influence of the great equatorial current.

However, if there was no wind, there was no lack of novelty to those of the passengers who had never been to sea before; for, from their being now within the tropical region, the ocean around, albeit so still and glassy, seemed to swarm with life. Thousands of flying-fish were to be seen fluttering on either side of the vessel, while skipjacks and bonetas also showed themselves occasionally; and the dreaded shark, with his close attendant and valet the pilot-fish, was not an absentee, for he was continually cruising about astern on the constant look-out.

“How funny those flying-fish look!” said Florry Meldrum, watching a shoal of them that rose from the water just like a covey of white larks, and which, after skimming past the Nancy Bell, again settled in the sea, quite tired out with their short flight.

“You should see them nearer,” said Frank Harness, who was between the two girls, looking out over the gangway aft—“and then you would call them funnier. Ah! here is one,” he added, catching one of the little fluttering creatures that had become entangled in the mizzen rigging; “you see, it doesn’t have wings as you think, but only a membrane between its fins, just like what a bat has.”

“Yes,” said I “I see. It is curious, though, that they should look so white at a distance, when their backs are dark and blueish, like a mackerel!”

“Ah! that is because the under part of their wings is only then visible. Look, now, at that lot there that have just risen to escape the boneta. They seem exactly like a fall of snowflakes!”

“Poor things!” said Kate. “The boneta seems to be their inveterate enemy, or rather consumer, as he appears to be in good condition on the diet. It’s a pity, though, that he’s such a glutton; for he’s a nice-looking fish, all purple and gold, and he oughtn’t to be so cruel!”

“Oh! he’s not the only enemy of the flying-fish, Miss Meldrum,” answered Frank; “you should see the albatross after them down near the Cape. The bird hunts them as soon as they rise in the air, and the boneta when they’re in the water; so, between the two, they have little chance of escape—just like the fight, the other day, between the black-fish on the one side and the thresher and sword-fish on the other.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Kate with a shiver, “I couldn’t look at that long! The boneta hunt the flying-fish in a fairer way, and they do look so pretty when they jump out of the water! How disappointed the boneta must then feel when they see them take unto themselves wings and fly away?”

“They needn’t be disappointed long,” said Frank Harness, laughing, “for, they must know that they’re bound to catch them up in the long run. But, look at that cloud there, Miss Meldrum, slowly creeping up the sky. ‘I guess,’ as our American friend says, that we’re going to have some rain.”

“Do you think so?” she answered, smiling at Frank’s rather good imitation of Mr. Lathrope’s nasal intonation of voice; “I thought it looked too bright for that.”

“We’ll have it soon; just you see,” said Frank.

“All right, Mr. Positive, I suppose we must bow to your superior nautical skill.”

“Oh, Miss Meldrum, don’t laugh at me, if I am only a poor sailor,” said he reproachfully; “you always seem to taunt me with my profession!”

“I!” exclaimed Kate in surprise. “Why, I would not make fun of you, or hurt your feelings, for the world!”

Frank seized her hand and pressed it, as if he were about to say something in response; but, just at that moment, the rain, without offering the apology of a warning drop or two to give notice of its approach, came down in a perfect deluge, making them rush for shelter beneath the poop awning.

This was just after lunch, early in the afternoon; and the rain lasted until the dinner-bell sounded, coming down in regular sheets of water, as if emptied out suddenly from some enormous reservoir above.

All sorts of tubs, buckets, kegs, and open casks, including the scuttle butt, were ranged along the spar-deck, below the break of the poop, to catch the welcome shower, tarpaulins being spread over the open hatchways, where exposed, to prevent the flood from going below: while the ends of the after awning were tied up in a sort of huge bag for the rain to drain off into it, so that none of it might be wasted—the canvas being let down, when the receptacle was pretty full, to empty the contents into the water-puncheons—for the pure liquid was a precious godsend, being an agreeable relief to the brackish supply which the ship carried in her tanks.

As might have been imagined, Master Negus and Miss Florry watched all these operations with the greatest interest, for they would have been only too glad if their respective guardians had allowed them to take a more active part in the watery campaign than that of merely looking on.

Mr. Zachariah Lathrope, however, was his own master, and he made himself very busy amongst the dripping sailors, who were hopping about on the wet decks as if enjoying their ducking, much amusement being caused when Mr. McCarthy, for a joke, let the leach of the awning once go by the run, when, the American passenger being off his guard, some hundred gallons of water came down on him, giving the worthy gentleman an impromptu shower-bath.

It was grand fun while the rain lasted, all the men folk paddling about in it to their hearts’ content and ducking each other when they had the chance; while the ladies observed the sports from the shelter of the poop, seeming to take equally as much pleasure in the skylarking. It was amazing, too, to notice the amount of dirt and rubbish which the downpour washed away into the scuppers. What with the continual swilling and scrubbing and swabbing that the decks underwent every morning, it ought to have been an impossibility for any dust or debris to exist; but, there it was, to prove the contrary—the rain “exposing the weakness of the land,” and making a clean sweep of everything that was dirty which lay about in the odd corners fore and aft the ship.

The day after the rain, just when all on board—sick of the calm, the listless monotonous roll of the ship, the flapping of the idle sails against the masts, and the sight of the same cloudless sky and endless expanse of tumid sea, with surface unbroken by the tiniest ripple, save when a dolphin leaped out of the water or a fairy nautilus glided by in his frail shell craft—were longing for the advent of the north-east trades, which Captain Dinks had expected them to “run into” ever since they lost their first favourable wind, there came a visitor to the Nancy Bell, the most dreaded of all the perils of the deep—Fire!

Eight bells had just been struck in the morning watch; and the passengers were just preparing for breakfast—that is, such as were late risers, like Mrs. Major Negus and Mr. Lathrope, neither of whom turned out earlier than was necessary. Those who knew what was the healthiest plan, like Mr. Meldrum and his daughters, had been up and out more than an hour before, walking up and down the poop and getting up a vigorous appetite for the first meal of the day.

The captain had not long come up the companion; and, after looking aloft and to the northward, scanning the horizon around, had stepped up to the binnacle, where he stood contemplating the compass hopelessly, as if he had given up all idea of the wind coming, while the hands of the watch on duty were listlessly idling about the waist of the ship, dead weary of having nothing to do.

The cook, apparently, was the only really busy person on board at the time, for he could be seen popping in and out of his galley forwards, handing dishes to Llewellyn, the steward, to bring aft for the cuddy table. The darkey seemed bathed in perspiration, and looked as if he found cooking hot work in latitudes under the constellation of the Crab, whither the vessel had drifted.

All at once, however, a change came over the scene.

As the steward was passing the main hatch in his second journey aft to the saloon, he noticed a thin column of smoke ascending from the main hold, where the principal portion of the cargo was stowed. Like a fool, although it might have been pleaded for him that he was constitutionally nervous, he let fall the dishes he was carrying on a tray, in his fright at the sight of this evidence of a conflagration below, instead of going quietly up to the captain and telling him what he had seen; and, to make matters worse, he called out at the same time in terrified accents, as loud as he could bawl—“Fire! fire! the ship’s on fire!”

Had a thunderbolt burst on board, or had the vessel struck on a rock in the middle of the ocean, the alarm that was instantly spread on board could not have been greater; and where all had been listless inactivity but a moment before, was now all life, motion, and excitement.

“A fire! whar?” exclaimed Mr. Zachariah Lathrope poking his head out of the companion-way, judiciously concealing the remainder of his lanky person, as he had not yet quite finished his toilet. “Snakes and alligators, Cap’en, but I’m terrible skeart at fires! I hope it ain’t up to much chucks?”

“Oh, no!” said Captain Dinks, reassuringly, expressing what he wished more than what he felt. He had remained aft in order to somewhat allay the alarm which the outcry of the steward had excited; but he was itching to get to the scene of action himself, although he had sent Mr. McCarthy there already, besides ordering the crew to their respective stations, and having the hose-pump manned.—“Oh, no, nothing at all, only one of that ass, Llewellyn’s, happy discoveries, another sort of ghost in the cabin! Here, Harness,” he added aside to Frank, who had just come up from below, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Just stop on the poop a minute, and keep these people quiet. I must go down to the hold myself to look after matters; don’t say anything more than you can help.”

So saying, the captain scuttled down the poop ladder on to the spar-deck in a jiffey, and in another second he was descending the main hatch, whence the smoke could be now clearly seen, coming up in clouds.

Mrs. Major Negus’s voice was also heard at this juncture. The good lady had ascended the companion behind the American, who still remained at the spot where he had first made his appearance, and was just then adjusting his braces; and almost at the same instant that her dulcet accents reached the ears of those on deck she burst upon them, as it were by storm, carrying Mr. Lathrope along with her, still en deshabille, it is true, as regarded his coat and waistcoat, but fortunately now with his trousers, or as he called them “pants,” properly arranged.

“Goodness gracious, man!” she exclaimed frantically—“do get out of the way. Lord a mercy! where’s the fire? Oh dear, oh my! We shall all be burnt alive? Maurice, my darling boy! come to your mother’s arms and let us die together. Maurice! Where’s my boy?”

“You’d better stop that screechin’ and say your prayers, marm,” said Mr. Zachariah Lathrope, sententiously. “The b’y is all right below, sleepin’ in the corner of the sofy, and I’d advise you to go and rouse him up, instead of rushing up har like a mad bull in fly time, a knocking folks down and hollerin’.”

Mrs. Major Negus took his advice; for, without withering up the American with her scorn, as she would probably have done another time, she at once rushed back below to the cuddy as quickly as she had come up, to wake up Maurice; while Kate Meldrum, seizing the opportunity which the diversion afforded, sidled up to Frank Harness unperceived.

“Is there any danger really?” she asked the young sailor in a low tone, so that no one else could hear; and her face was pale, but composed and resolute, as she looked into his.

“Could you bear to be told the truth?” said he hesitatingly.

“I could,” she replied; and he saw that she meant it.

“Well, there certainly is danger, although it is best not to alarm everybody, for when people get frightened they interfere and hinder what is being done to save them. I wouldn’t like to tell the crew, Miss Meldrum, what I tell you; but I know you are brave, and see that you can bear to be told the truth. A lot of woollen goods are on fire in the main hold, and must, from the extent of the area already consumed, have been smouldering for days. We are doing all that men can do to quench it, and we may succeed, as there is no wind and nothing to fan the flames; but the only thing that hinders us is our being unable to get to the seat of the mischief, which is in the very centre of the cargo. However, the men are now breaking in the deck above, and as soon as we are able to get the end of the hose down and pass buckets, all may be well. Keep a good heart, Miss Meldrum, there’s no absolute danger yet; when there is I will tell you. So, please, prevent that ‘Mrs. Major’ from going into hysterics!”

“I will, for I trust you,” said Kate with a somewhat sad smile on her pale face. “Here, Florry, come below away from the smoke and sparks; Mr. Harness says the fire will soon be out and that there is no danger, and I don’t want you to spoil your new frock!”

So courageously speaking, the brave girl then went below with her sister; and by her presence and example assuaged “the Major’s” fears, thus preventing that lady from going back on deck and spreading consternation amongst the crew by her cries, as would otherwise have been the case. Mr. Zachariah Lathrope, too, came down to the cuddy, attracted by the smell of breakfast, which the captain had directed the steward to go on getting as if nothing had happened—thus to punish the poltroon in a sort of way for his cowardly alarm; hence, the coast was left clear for the officers and men to put out the fire without being flurried by the fears and importunities of the passengers.

Meanwhile, Captain Dinks with Mr. Meldrum, who was the first to volunteer—their efforts well supported by the exertions of McCarthy and the second mate and Frank Harness—were working like Britons in the Nancy Bell’s hold.

The fire had broken out, as Frank had stated, almost in the centre of the ship; for two bulkheads had to be battered down and the main deck cut through, before the source of it could be reached. However, by dint of arduously plying the axe and crowbar, an opening was at length made whence the fire could be got at. Flames immediately burst forth the moment air was admitted into the hold, but these were pressed down with wet blankets, and, the fire-hose being carried down and the pumps manned by the watch on deck, a copious stream of water was directed throughout that portion of the ship where all the light woollen and textile goods were stowed. The hose, too, was supplemented by a continuous relay of buckets full of water passed rapidly along the lower deck and down the hatchway by the starboard watch—whose turn it was below, but whom the alarm of fire had caused to rouse out again to duty—so that in half an hour from the discovery of the outbreak all danger was over and the last spark quenched.

“Thank God!” said Kate Meldrum, with heart-felt earnestness, her lovely eyes full of tears as she looked up into Frank’s face when he came to tell her the news. “I thought all hope was gone, you were so long in coming!”

“But were you not certain I would come?” asked Frank anxiously.

“Yes, I had confidence in your promise.”

“Thank you,” was all he replied; but his look spoke volumes.

At the same time another mutual “confidence game” was being played in a different part of the ship; but in this the understanding was between Mr. Meldrum and Ben Boltrope, the ship’s carpenter and ex-man-o’-war’s-man.

“Aye, aye, sir,” said the latter when the two were parting on the main deck after the termination of their labours in the lower hold. “I recognised your honour the moment you came on deck that morning of the storm in the Bay of Biscay. I couldn’t mistake the cut of your honour’s jib, sir, begging your pardon.”

“Well, I’m sure I did not recognise you, or you may be sure I would have spoken to you. Still, you need not blurt out my identity to everybody, you know.”

“Sartinly not, your honour. I’ll keep mum, sir, never you fear, though I don’t forget the old—”

“Stop,” said Mr. Meldrum, changing the subject. “I’ve no doubt all hands are pretty dry after all the heat we’ve been in down below, so, with the captain’s permission, I’ll send something forward for them to splice the main brace with.”

“Aye, aye, your honour,” replied Ben; “a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.”

And the two parted, the one going forward to the forecastle and the other aft into the saloon.