Читать книгу A Runaway Brig: or, An Accidental Cruise - Otis James - Страница 6

Walter could be of but little assistance on deck, owing to his ignorance of nautical matters; yet in Jim's estimation he formed, as companion to himself, a very important portion of the watch. Brave though the young fisherman tried to appear, nothing short of actually saving his own life would have tempted him to remain on the Bonita's quarter-deck alone in the night; and even with an assistant it seemed necessary for him to whistle very loud during several minutes after Bob and Harry disappeared in the cabin before he had sufficient control over his voice to hide the fear which came upon him.

Then he said in what was intended to be a cheery tone:

"Well, Walt, I reckon this is the last night we'll run dead before the wind, unless it blows in our favor. By mornin' Bob oughter be strong enough, if he keeps on eatin' same as he has to-day, to help work ship, an' then the brig'll be headed toward home."

Walter sighed deeply. Just at that moment he was thinking of the loved ones whom he knew must be mourning his absence, and the word "home" caused such an uncomfortably big lump to rise in his throat that it was impossible to make any reply.

Perhaps the same syllable sent Jim's thoughts straying in a similar direction, for he began to whistle once more, and continued to do so until a voice from the companion-way asked, in a querulous tone:

"What's the matter? Short-handed as we are, do you think it's goin' to help out by havin' more wind!"

"It ain't blowin' any harder than it was when you went below," Jim replied in surprise, understanding by the tone of the voice that it was Bob Brace who had spoken.

"That's jes' why you wanter tie up the whistle. It'll bring a gale if you keep on much longer!"

Then the sound of footsteps told that the speaker had returned to the cabin, and Jim said, in a low tone, to Walter:

"Them old sailors are as full of whims as a dog is of fleas. Some of them on the Mary Walker had signs for everything a feller did; but I never saw any come true. Tom Downey, the mate, allers fussed when birds flew 'round the schooner, 'cause he said they'd bring on a gale, an' in a dead calm he'd either whistle or wish he had a cat to throw overboard."

"What for?"

"So's to bring a wind. He says it'll allers come when you do that; but of course its foolishness. Then again, if I happened to whistle, no matter how calm it was, I'd get a rope's endin' 'cause they think a boy mustn't so much as squeak. If I'd believed Bob could hear me I'd know'd enough to hold my tongue."

"Did you get whipped very often on the Mary?" Walter asked, with a mild curiosity.

"More times than I've got fingers an' toes. Whenever any of 'em, from the captain down to the cook, wanted something to do they'd stir me up, an' it makes a feller dance when he gets a good stout heavin'-line across his back; but I'd be willin' to take a pretty big dose of it if I could be on board the old schooner just now."

There was no necessity for Walter to repeat this last sentiment. A severe punishment from his father at that moment would have been a positive pleasure. The lightest word in reference to home caused him to realize more keenly each hour the distance between those whom he loved and himself, and Jim's words seemed but the echo of his own thoughts.

During fully half an hour the two remained in silence at the wheel, steering the brig through the darkness on a course indicated only by the wind, and then the young fisherman was suddenly recalled from memories of the Mary Walker to the Bonita.

The breeze was increasing perceptibly, and the moisture in the atmosphere told that rain might be expected very soon. While the boys had given themselves up to reverie the clouds were gathering, until now it seemed as if they actually enveloped the brig as with an impenetrable vapor, and the waters dashed against the bow with that peculiar sullen sighing which betokens a storm. The Bonita no longer sailed freely, but tossed and plunged like some living thing harassed by obstacles in its path until wearied with the constant strife.

Jim knew the meaning of this change in wind and wave, and he roused himself suddenly as does one who is rudely awakened.

"I reckon it would be better if we 'tended to our business instead of whinin' about what can't be helped," he said grimly, clutching yet more tightly the spokes of the wheel. "You'll have to go below an' tell Bob that a storm is comin' on, so's we can get in some more of this canvas, if he thinks we're carryin' too much."

Walter noted the change in his companion's voice rather than in the elements; but that was sufficient to cause him to move very quickly.

It became necessary to look in several of the tiny apartments before finding the two who were enjoying their watch below, after which it was an affair of only a few seconds to arouse them. Bob sprung to his feet before Walter had repeated Jim's words, and he awakened Harry by saying, as he pulled him from the bunk:

"Come on deck, lad; for we shall need the whole workin' force unless our fisherman has made a mistake!"

To have seen Bob ascend the companion-way ladder one would hardly have supposed he had been so near death a few hours previous. The necessity for action seemed to call back all his strength, and on reaching the deck there was no evidence of weakness in his movements.

"Well, the wind you was callin' for has got here," he said to Jim, looking out into the darkness. "I never knew much good to come of boys whistlin' at sea, an' I don't reckon any one else ever did."

Jim had nothing to say. He didn't believe he was responsible for this sudden change in the weather; but long and sad experience had taught him how useless it would be to deny the imputation, and he asked meekly:

"Do you think we're goin' to have much of a storm?"

"It looks like it; but if we had half a crew aboard there wouldn't be any reason for touchin' a rope. The way we're fixed now makes things different, an' we'd better get her snugged down. I'll take the two boys for'ard, an' you ease her up a bit so we can furl the jib. Come on, lads; there ain't much time to waste."

Harry and Walter followed Bob without the slightest idea of what was required. They could carry out his instructions when he set the example, however, and in half an hour the Bonita was plunging heavily into the rapidly-rising sea with nothing save the foretopsail drawing. She had no more canvas than might have been shown in the most furious gale; but, under the circumstances, it seemed to be all that was consistent with safety, for no one could say how much wind lurked behind the inky clouds.

"Now light the binnacle lamp, Jim, so's we'll have some idea of where we're headin', an' then try your hand at makin' tea. I reckon this will be an all-night job for me, an' as I don't feel so very chipper yet, somethin' warm won't do any harm."

Bob took the wheel as he spoke, and Jim obeyed orders, the other boys following him closely, for the stuffy galley was preferable to the deck, where the huge waves, roaring astern, appeared ever on the point of ingulfing the brig.

By the time a pot of tea had been steeped the storm was full upon them, causing the Bonita to pitch and toss in what Harry and Walter thought a most dangerous manner. Jim did not feel disturbed by it, however, for in his mind was the knowledge of that greater peril concerning which his companions were ignorant. The brig was dashing on literally at the mercy of the gale, and at any moment might strike a reef or the mainland, to the destruction of all on board as well as her own stout timbers, for the helmsman had no idea of what lay before them.

When Jim carried a pannikin of tea aft, leaving the other boys in the galley awaiting his return, Bob said in a low tone, as if fearing his words would be overheard:

"You must take the wheel awhile, lad, so I can hunt for the charts. It won't do to storm along like this without a little smatterin' of what's ahead, an' we'll make some kind of a guess as to where the brig was when you picked me up."

Jim grasped the spokes firmly, as much for the purpose of steadying himself against the vessel's furious plunging as to hold her before the wind, and after draining the pan of its bitter contents Bob Brace went into the cabin.

Owing to the violent motion of the brig the boys in the galley made no effort to join the young fisherman at the helm, and he was left alone during half an hour, when Bob returned.

"Did you find the charts?" Jim asked eagerly.

"Yes; an' I reckon there's no call to worry ourselves very much. We're runnin' pretty nigh south, an' if the brig was a hundred miles off the coast when I came aboard there's nothin' between us an' the Bahamas. We've got thirteen or fourteen hundred miles of clear water, an' this breeze will blow itself out before – "

"Look! Look there!" Jim cried excitedly, heaving the wheel down to port as rapidly as he could handle the spokes.

Bob turned quickly, and but one brief glance was sufficient to cause him to spring to the helmsman's aid.

There was good reason why the two were alarmed. Directly in the Bonita's course, less than half a cable's length away, a huge fabric of canvas and cordage came out of the gloom like a phantom, as if bent on running down the brig.

The stranger had all lowersails set, and a collision would have been fatal to the smaller craft because her headway was so much less than that of the other.

"Up with the helm, lad, to meet her as she comes around!" Bob screamed, when the wheel had been jammed hard down for a second, and the Bonita heeled over while responding to the rudder's sudden swing. "We shall clear her, but it'll be a rub."

The stranger had also changed her course by this time, and as the two vessels swept past each other on a heaving, screaming sea of foam, hardly twenty feet apart, Jim sprang toward the flare.

"You can't bring her to now, lad," Bob shouted as the boy ran into the galley with the basin of alcohol-saturated oakum. "Even if they were willin', we couldn't wear ship."

Jim's excitement was so great that he did not hear the old sailor's words. When he emerged from the galley the spirit was sending up a blue flame which illumined the entire after-part of the brig; but the stranger had vanished in the gloom to starboard, and strain his eyes as he might it was impossible to see any answering signal.

"You needn't spend much time lookin' for that craft, lad. We've been nearer to her than we shall ever be again, an' you'd better chuck the basin overboard before your fingers get burned."