Chapter Forty Seven.
Five days and nights had we been drifting at the mercy of the winds and waves; all our small stock of food had been devoured—though we had hoarded every crumb, as the miser hoards his gold. Even the rain-water, as well as the water we had brought with us, we had drained to the last drop.
The weather continually alternated from a dead calm to a light breeze: the wind frequently shifted, but I had no strength left to attend to the sail—the boat was abandoned to its own guidance, or rather to that of the wind. When becalmed, we lay still; when the breeze sprung up, we pursued our course till the sail no longer felt its influence.
Five long days and nights—days of intolerable suffering, nights of inexpressible horror. From sunrise to sunset I strained my eyes along the line of the horizon, but nothing but sky and wave ever met my gaze. When it became dark, excited by the deep anxiety I had endured throughout the day, I could not sleep. I fancied I beheld through the darkness monstrous forms mocking and gibbering, and high above them all was reared the head of the enormous python I had combated in the Happy Valley. And he opened his tremendous jaws, as though to swallow me, and displayed fold upon fold of his immense form, as if to involve and crush the boat in its mighty involutions.
I was always glad when the day dawned, or if the night happened to be fair and starlight; for the spectres vanished when the sun shone, and the tranquil beauty of the stars calmed my soul.
I was famishing for want of food—but I suffered most from want of water, for the heat during the day was tremendous, and I became so frantic from thirst, that nothing but the exhortations of Mrs Reichardt would have prevented me from dashing myself into the sea, and drinking my fill of the salt-water that looked so tempting and refreshing.
My companion sought to encourage me to hope, long after all hope had vanished—then she preached resignation to the Divine will, and in her own nature gave a practical commentary on her text.
I perceived that her voice was getting more and more faint—and that she was becoming hourly more feeble. She was not able to move from her seat, and at last asked me to assist her to lie down at the bottom of the boat. Then I noticed that she prayed fervently, and I could often distinguish my name in these petitions to the throne of Grace.
I felt a strange sensation in my head, and my tongue became in my mouth as a dry stick—from this I was relieved by chewing the sleeve of my shirt; but my head grew worse. My eyes too were affected in a strange manner. I continually fancied that I saw ships sailing about at a little distance from me, and I strove to attract their attention by calling to them. My voice was weak, and I could create only a kind of half-stifled cry. Then I thought I beheld land: fair forests and green pastures spread before me—bright flowers and refreshing fruits grew all around—and I called to my companion to make haste, for we were running ashore and should presently be pulling the clustering grapes and should lay ourselves down among the odorous flowers.
Mrs Reichardt opened her eyes and gazed at me with a more painful interest. She knew I was haunted by the chimeras created by famine and thirst; but she seemed to have lost all power of speech. She motioned me to join her in prayer; I, however, was too much occupied with the prospect of landing, and paid no attention to her signs.
Presently the bright landscape faded away, and I beheld nothing but the wide expanse of water, the circle of which appeared to expand and spread into the sky, and the sky seemed lost and broken up in the water, and for a few minutes they were mixed together in the wildest and strangest confusion. Subsequently to this I must have dropped asleep, for after a while I found myself huddled up in a corner of the boat, and must have fallen there from my seat. I stared about me for some time unconscious where I was. The bright sun still shone over my head; the everlasting sea still rolled beneath my feet.
I looked to the bottom of the boat, and met the upturned gaze of my fellow voyager. The pale face had grown paler, and the expression of the painful eye had become less intelligent. I thought she was as I had seen her in my dream when she changed from her own likeness to that of the poor drowned girl we buried in the guano.
I turned away my gaze—the sight was too painful to look upon. I felt assured that she was dying, and that in a very short space of time, that faithful and affectionate nature I must part from for ever.
I thought I would make a last effort—though faint and trembling, burning with fever, and feeling deadly sick, I managed by the support of the awning to crawl to the mast, and embracing it with one arm, I raised the glass with the other hand, and looked carefully about. My hand was very unsteady and my eyes seemed dim. I could discern nothing but water.
I should have sunk in despair to the bottom of the boat, had I not been attracted at the moment by a singular appearance in the sky. A cloud was approaching, of a shape and appearance I had never observed before. I raised the glass again, and after observing this cloud for some time with great attention, I felt assured that what I considered to be long lines of vapour was an immense flock of birds.
This discovery interested me—I forgot the intensity of my sufferings in observing the motions of this apparently endless flock. As the first file approached, I looked again, to see if I could make out what they were. God of Heaven! They were gannets.
I crawled back to my companion as rapidly as my feeble limbs would allow, to inform her of the discovery I had made. Alas! I found that I was unheeded. I could not believe that her fine spirit had fled: no, she moved her hand; but the dull spiritless gaze seemed to warn me that her dissolution was fast approaching. I looked for the spirit-flask, and found a few drops were still left there; I poured these into her mouth, and watched the result with the deepest anxiety I had ever known since the day of my birth.
In a few minutes I found that she breathed more regularly and distinctly—presently her eyes lost that fixedness which had made them so painful to look upon. Then she recognised me, and took hold of my hand, regarding me with the sweet smile with which I was so familiar.
As soon as I found that consciousness had returned, I told her of the great flock of gannets that were evidently wending their way to their customary resting-place, and the hope I entertained that if they could be kept in sight, and the wind remained in the same quarter, the boat might be led by them to the place where they laid their eggs.
She listened to me with attention, and evidently understood what I said. Her lips moved, and I thought she was returning thanks to God—accepting the flight of the birds as a manifest proof that he was still watching over us. In a few minutes she seemed so much better that she could sit up. I noticed her for some time watching the gannets that now approached in one vast cloud that threatened to shut us out from the sky—she then turned her gaze in an opposite direction, and with a smile of exultation that lit up her wan face as with a glory, stretched her arm out, pointing her hand to a distant portion of the sea. My gaze quickly followed hers, and I fancied I discovered a break in the line of the horizon; but it did not look like a ship. I pointed the glass in that direction, and felt the joyful assurance that we were within sight of land.
This additional discovery gave me increased strength or rather hope now dawning upon us, gave me an impulse I had not felt before. I in my turn became the consoler. I encouraged Mrs Reichardt, with all the arguments of which I was master, to think that we should soon be in safety. She smiled, and something like animation again appeared in her pale features.
If I could save her, I felt I should be blessed beyond measure. Such an object was worth striving for; and I did strive. I know not how it was that I gained strength to do what I did on that day; but I felt that I was supported from on High, and as the speck of land that she had first discovered gradually enlarged itself as we approached it, my exertions to secure a speedy rescue for my companion from the jaws of death, continued to increase.
The breeze remained fair, and we scudded along at a spanking rate, the gannets keeping us company all the way—evidently bound to the same shore. I kept talking to Mrs Reichardt, and endeavouring to raise her spirits with the most cheering description of what we should do when we got ashore; for God would be sure to direct us to some place where we might without difficulty recover our strength.
Hitherto she had not spoken; but as soon as we began to distinguish the features of the shore we were approaching, she unclosed her lips, and again the same triumphant smile played around them.
“Frank Henniker, do you know that rock?”
“No!—yes!—can it be possible? O what a gracious Providence has been watching over us!”
It was a rock of a remarkable shape that stood a short distance from the fishing-pool. It could not be otherwise, the gannets had led us to their old haunts. We were approaching our island. I looked at my companion—she was praying. I immediately joined with her in thanksgiving for the signal mercy that had been vouchsafed to us, and in little more than an hour had the priceless satisfaction of carrying her from the shore to the cottage, and then we carefully nursed ourselves till we recovered the effects of this dreadful cruise.