Chapter Fifteen.
A Brush with a Piratical Felucca.
We had not been three hours at sea before the unwelcome conviction forced itself upon us that our apprehensions respecting the injury to the Foam’s sailing powers were only too well founded; whatever they might originally have been the bungling dockyard riggers had effectually destroyed them. The breeze was blowing so strongly that we had been compelled to furl the topgallant—sail, and, steering as we were with the wind abeam, we ought, with the shapely hull we had beneath us, to have been going at least nine knots, whereas, so cramped were the little vessel’s movements by her tautly set-up rigging and the consequent rigidity of her spars, that she was going little more than six. This was anything but satisfactory; O’Flaherty’s first action, therefore, was to order a general easing-up of lanyards, fore and aft, aloft and alow; and no sooner was this done than we felt the advantage of the change; the swing and play of the spars being restored, and the rigging eased up until they were merely supported without their pliancy being interfered with, the little craft at once recovered her elasticity, and not only went along faster, but also took the seas much more buoyantly, riding lightly over them instead of digging through them as before, so that she no longer threw the spray over and over herself, but went along as light and dry as an empty bottle. But it was still evident that her top-hamper was too heavy; we therefore set the carpenter to work to reduce a couple of spare topmasts we had on board, with the view to shifting them upon the first favourable opportunity; and, this done, we hoped to have the hooker once more at her best.
Nothing of importance occurred until we arrived off the Cristo Cays, when—the time being about three bells in the forenoon watch, and the larger island bearing about two miles on the larboard bow, a couple of miles distant—O’Flaherty brought a chart on deck and, spreading it out on the companion slide, beckoned me to him.
“Look here, Lascelles,” said he, making a mark on the chart with his pencil-point, “there is where we are, and that,” pointing away over the larboard bow, “is Cristo Cay. Now, whereabouts is the channel that you saw that big felucca going into?”
“It is further on to the westward; you cannot see it from here. But why do you ask?” I inquired.
“Because, me bhoy, I intind to take a look in there and see what there is to be seen,” he replied.
“If you will excuse my saying so, I think you had better not,” said I. “In my opinion it would be wiser to meddle with these other places as little as possible until we have beaten up Merlani’s quarters. From all that we could learn from Carera his gang is far and away the most formidable all along this coast; and it seems to me that it would be only prudent on our part to create as little alarm as possible among these fellows until we have polished him off. His snuggery is strong enough and difficult enough of approach as it is, and it might be made infinitely more so if an alarm were given along the coast, as it easily might be if one of their craft happened to escape us; my advice, therefore—if you ask it—is to interfere with nobody until we have been into the Conconil lagoons.”
“Why, Lascelles, you surely are not afraid?” he asked, looking me surprisedly in the face.
“No, sir, I am not,” I answered, rather nettled, “I am only prudent; and—”
“Pooh!” he interrupted lightly, “prudent! Me dear bhoy, prudence is a very good thing—sometimes, but it does not do for such business as ours. A bould dash and have done wid it is the motto for us. Anyhow, I intind to go in, so there’s an end av it, and I’ll thank ye, young gintleman, to point out the channel as soon as we open it.”
“But,” I remonstrated, “I know nothing whatever of the place beyond what I saw of it in passing. Do you?”
“Not a wan ov me; but what matther?” was his characteristic reply.
“Simply this,” said I. “The navigation is doubtless difficult, and the water shallow. We should find ourselves in a pretty pickle if we plumped into a hornet’s nest and on to a shoal at the same moment.”
“How big did you say that felucca was that you saw going in there?” he asked.
“Nearly or quite two hundred tons,” said I, “but—”
“And we are eighty,” said he. “Where she could float we can—”
“By no means,” I interrupted. “I do not believe she drew an inch more than eight feet, whilst we draw nine; and an extra foot of water, let me tell you, Mr O’Flaherty, makes all the difference in these shallow inlets.”
“Say no more,” was the answer. “In we go, even if we never come out again.”
That, I thought, was scarcely the resolution to which a wise commander would have come; but after such an expression I could, of course, only hold my peace, and I did so until a few minutes later when we opened the entrance to the channel, which I pointed out to him.
“Then you will clear for action and send the crew to quarters, av ye plaise, Mr Lascelles,” said O’Flaherty; which done, we hauled our wind and reached in for the narrow opening.
It was a foolhardy undertaking, to my mind; but I must do. O’Flaherty the justice to say that, having entered upon it, he neglected no precaution to ensure our success. Thus, his first act, after the mustering of the crew, was to furl the square canvas, to facilitate the working of the schooner; after which he requested Courtenay to go aloft to the topgallant-yard to search out from that elevation the deepest water and to con the ship accordingly.
On entering the channel it was discovered to be very narrow, so much so indeed that at one point there was not width enough to work the ship, and it was only by means of a very smartly executed half-board, under Courtenay’s directions from aloft, that we avoided plumping the schooner ashore on the projecting spit. The water, too, was so shallow that, on looking over the taffrail, it was seen to be quite thick and clouded with the sand stirred up by the vessel’s keel; whilst so close aboard of us was the land on either hand that a couple of batteries, of, say, four twenty-four pounders each, one on either side of the channel, would have inevitably blown us out of the water. Most fortunately for us, it had not occurred to the frequenters of the place to plant batteries at this spot; so we passed in unmolested. The channel was about a mile in length, on emerging from which we found ourselves in a landlocked lagoon about four and a half miles wide at its broadest part, and so long that neither extremity could be accurately defined even from the elevated perch occupied by Courtenay. No sign whatever of anything like a settlement could be anywhere seen from the deck; but Courtenay hailed us to the effect that he could see something like a vessel’s mast-head over the middle island of a group of three on our starboard beam. He further reported, on the question being put to him, that the water was very shoal all round the ship, but that there were indications of something like a channel to the southward and eastward; upon which sail was shortened to lessen the schooner’s speed through the water, and her head was put in the direction indicated. This course was held for about two miles, when, by Courtenay’s direction, it was changed to south-south-west. Another run of two miles enabled us to open the southern sides of the three islands before referred to; and there, sure enough, in a snug bight between the two most distant islands, and completely concealed from to seaward by the lofty trees with which the ground was densely overgrown, we discovered three feluccas at anchor, two of them being small, one-masted craft, of about the same tonnage as the Pinta, whilst the third carried three masts, and looked very much like the identical craft we had seen when last we passed up the coast. They were about four miles distant from us; and for the first minute or two after sighting them not the slightest sign of life could we discover about them. As we now had a trifle more water under our keel sail was once more made upon the schooner, and we headed straight for the strangers; but we were hardly round upon our new course before we saw four very large boats, full of men, push out from among the bushes and make in all haste for the craft at anchor; two of them going alongside the big felucca, and one each to the smaller craft. They remained alongside only about a minute, and then returned to the shore with two men in each. Watching the craft through our glasses, we could see the crews bustling about the deck in a state of extraordinary activity; and, in less time than it takes to describe it, the enormous lateen yards—which had, evidently for the purpose of concealing the whereabouts of the craft, been lowered down on deck—were mastheaded, the canvas loosed, and the feluccas got under weigh. The two small craft at once made sail to the westward, heading for a passage between the mainland and a long mangrove-covered spit which jutted out from the larger and more westerly of the three islands; but the large felucca boldly headed for us direct under every inch of canvas she could spread.
“Now,” said I to O’Flaherty, “if that is the same felucca that passed the Pinta when we were up here before, we shall have our hands full, for she carries two more guns than we do, and hers are nines whilst ours are sixes; moreover, she has half as many men again as we have, and if they are anything like as tough as they appeared to be they will fight desperately. However, it will never do to turn tail now, so please say how you mean to engage her, and I will take the necessary steps.”
“We will run her aboard, me bhoy, throw all hands on her decks, and dhrive her cut-throat crew below or overboard in less than two minutes, or I’m very much mistaken. So be good enough, Misther Lascelles, to have the guns loaded wid a couple ov round shot and a charge ov grape on the top ov thim,” said O’Flaherty, rubbing his hands gleefully.
I was in the act of issuing the necessary orders when Courtenay hurriedly hailed from aloft—what he said I could not distinguish—and the next moment the schooner gave a sort of upward surge and stopped dead. We were aground!
“Loose and set the topsail and topgallant-sail, and throw them aback!” shouted O’Flaherty. “Lower away the quarter-boat; get the stream-anchor into her with a hawser bent on to it, and run it away astern; be smart, my lads; we must get afloat again before that felucca reaches us.”
These orders were obeyed with that smartness and promptitude which distinguishes the disciplined man-of-war’s-man; but the operation of laying out the anchor astern necessarily occupied some little time. The boat had only just dropped the anchor overboard, and the men on board the schooner were gathering in the slack of the hawser preparatory to taking it to the capstan, when the felucca came foaming down upon us, and a hasty turn had to be taken with it, and the men at once sent back to their guns, as the manoeuvres of our antagonist seemed to threaten that she was about to turn the tables upon us by laying us aboard, as we had contemplated doing with her.
“Boarders prepare to repel boarders!” exclaimed O’Flaherty, drawing his sword. I whipped out my toasting iron, and at the same moment down came Courtenay on deck by way of the back-stays. “Give me a musket, somebody,” exclaimed he, as he alighted on the rail and sprang nimbly from thence to the deck.
“Here you are, sir, all ready primed and loaded,” responded the captain of one of the guns, promptly thrusting the required weapon into my chum’s hands.
The felucca was within one hundred feet of us, foaming along at the rate of about seven knots, and apparently aiming to strike us stem on directly amidships, when Courtenay sprang on the rail again, and, steadying his body against the fore-topmast back-stay, raised the musket steadily to his shoulder.
“Stand by, men, to fire, but wait until I give the word, and then fire only when you are certain of your shot taking effect!” exclaimed O’Flaherty. “Mr Courtenay, the helmsman is your mark, if you can—”
Crack! went Courtenay’s musket, interrupting O’Flaherty’s speech; a cry was heard on board the felucca, and her bows began to fly into the wind as Courtenay jumped down off the rail again, and, requisitioning a cartridge, began to hastily reload his piece.
“Now, men—now is your time to rake her! Fire!” exclaimed O’Flaherty, and our broadside of three six-pounders rang sharply out, followed by the crashing and rending sound of timber as the shot entered through the felucca’s starboard bow, and a hideous outburst of shrieks, groans, yells, and shouts of defiance as the grape tore obliquely along her deck almost fore and aft. In another moment, still flying up into the wind, the felucca crashed into our starboard quarter with a shock which made us heel to our covering-board, and caused our antagonist to rebound a full fathom from us. Then, as the schooner recovered herself and rolled heavily to windward, the felucca poured in her broadside, and whilst the sharp ring of her brass pieces, mingled with the crash of timber, was vibrating in my ears, I felt a sharp stunning blow on the head which momentarily rendered me unconscious.
“Hurrah, sir, we’re afloat, we’re afloat!” were the first sounds I heard as my scattered senses came back to me; and, clearing away with my pocket-handkerchief the blood which was streaming down into my eyes and blinding me, I found that I had been knocked up against the mainmast, to one of the belaying-pins in the spider-hoop of which I was clinging with one hand; and I further observed that the shock of the collision, coupled no doubt with the action of our square canvas, which had been laid aback, had caused the schooner to back off the shoal on which she had grounded, and that she now had stern-way upon her. A hasty glance round the deck showed that our bulwarks and deck-fittings had been considerably damaged by the felucca’s fire; and some eight or nine prostrate forms—O’Flaherty’s among them—bore still further witness to its destructive effect.
The boatswain came up to me and said:
“Poor Mr O’Flaherty’s down, sir; and you’re hurt, yourself. Who is to take command of the schooner, sir?”
“I will,” said I, rallying at once as a sense of the responsible position in which I thus suddenly found myself rushed upon me.
The boatswain touched his forelock and remarked:
“We’ve got starn-way upon us, sir, and if we don’t look out we shall drive over that there stream of ours and perhaps send a fluke through our bottom.”
“Yes,” said I. “Have the goodness, Mr Fidd, to muster all hands aft here; let them tail on to the hawser and rouse it smartly inboard; then man the capstan and lift the anchor.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” was the reply, and the man turned away to see the order executed. At that moment Courtenay came aft.
“Why, Lascelles, old man,” he exclaimed, starting back as I turned my face toward him, “what have the rascals done to you? You’re an awful sight, old fellow; are you hurt much?”
“I can scarcely say yet,” I replied; “not very much, I think; but my head is aching most consumedly. I wish you would kindly get a couple of hands and have Mr O’Flaherty taken below. I must remain here and look after the ship.”
“Is O’Flaherty wounded?” gasped Courtenay. I pointed to the prostrate body of the lieutenant, upon which my chum at once hurried away, and, raising the wounded man in his arms, called one of the men to help in conveying him below.
We were lucky enough to trip and recover our anchor without accident; the quarter-boat was hoisted up, and we then wore round after the felucca, which was hovering irresolutely about a mile away, apparently undecided whether to renew the attack or not. On seeing, however, that we were afloat again and after her, she bore up and stood to the eastward, close hauled on the larboard tack.
We cracked on after her under every stitch of canvas we could spread, but she walked away from us hand over hand, at the same time looking up a couple of points nearer the wind than we did, so that it soon became evident we might as well hope to catch the Flying Dutchman as to get alongside the chase. And in the midst of it all we plumped ashore again, this time with such violence that our fore and main-topmasts both snapped short off at the caps, like carrots, and hung dangling by their gear to leeward.
We were now in a very tidy mess, and had our late antagonist chosen to retrace her steps and renew her attack upon us we should, in our disabled condition, have found her an exceedingly awkward customer to tackle. Fortunately for us she seemed to have had as much as she wanted; and a quarter of an hour later she slid out through one of the numerous channels between the islands and disappeared.
Setting one watch to clear away the wreck and the other to furl all canvas, I requested Courtenay, who was now again on deck, to take the quarter-boat and a sounding-line and to go away in search of the deepest water. This was found at about fifty fathoms distant from and directly to windward of the ship; and in this direction we accordingly ran away our stream-anchor and cable as before, the cable this time, however, being led in through one of the chocks on the larboard bow, from whence it was taken to the capstan. The men hove and hove until everything creaked again, whilst the schooner careened fully a couple of streaks to port; but it was all to no purpose, not an inch would she budge; and finally the anchor began to come home pretty rapidly. The stream was evidently of no use, so I sent away the boat to weigh it, giving orders at the same time to get the larboard-bower ready for slinging between the quarter-boat and the launch, which I also ordered to be hoisted out. Presently the quarter-boat came alongside with the stream-anchor hanging over her stern; and then the reason for its coming home became evident—we had hove upon it until one of the flukes had been torn off.
By the time that the stream-anchor was out of the boat the bower was hanging at the bows ready for slinging, and it was then run away by the two boats directly to windward. As soon as it was let go we began to heave away once more, but with no better result—the schooner was hard and fast, and no efforts of ours were equal to the moving of her.
We now found ourselves in a very pretty pickle; and to add to my annoyance I made the discovery that we had grounded just about high-water, and that the tides, such as they were, were “taking off;” that is to say, each high tide would be a trifle lower than the preceding one until the neaps were reached and passed. There was nothing for it then but to lighten the ship; and getting the remaining boat into the water, all three were brought alongside, and the iron ballast was then hoisted out of the hold and lowered into the boats until they were as deeply loaded as they could be with safety, even in that perfectly smooth water. This lightened the schooner so considerably that I felt sanguine of getting her afloat when the tide next rose; but, not to neglect any means at my disposal to secure this very desirable end, I ordered all our spare spars to be launched overboard, and with them, some empty casks, and a quantity of lumber from the hold, a raft was constructed capable of supporting three of the guns, though they sank it so deep that I was at first afraid we should lose them altogether. I could then do no more until it was again high-water—which would not be until an hour past midnight—unless I sent the boats ashore to discharge their cargoes on the beach and then come alongside again to further lighten the ship; and this I was very loath to do, as I felt convinced that the process of handling and re-handling the heavy pigs of ballast would consume so much time that we should lose rather than gain by it, to say nothing of the exhausting labour which would thus devolve upon the men. Leaving Courtenay, therefore, who was uninjured, in charge of the deck, I retired to the cabin, which was at that moment serving for a cockpit, and, finding the surgeon disengaged, submitted myself to his tender mercies.
His first act was to bathe my head with warm water until the dry blood with which my hair was matted was cleared away as much as possible, and then the hair itself was shorn away until the wound was fairly exposed. The injury was then found to consist of a scalp wound some six inches in length, extending from a point above my right eye, just where the hair commenced, obliquely across the skull toward the back of the left ear, the scalp itself, for a width of about four inches, being torn from the skull and folded back like a rag. It burned and throbbed and smarted most horribly, particularly when the sponge was applied to my bare skull to clear away the blood preparatory to replacing the scalp; and I was informed by the medico that it was a very ugly wound, probably inflicted by a piece of langridge which, if it had been deflected a couple of inches to the right, would in all probability have killed me. And I was warned that I should have to exercise the greatest caution in the matter of exposing myself to the night air, or inflammation might set in, with very serious results. During the tedious and exceedingly painful operation of dressing the wound, I learned that O’Flaherty’s injury consisted of a contusion on the head, whereby he had been struck senseless to the deck, and a very badly lacerated right shoulder, the bone of which was also broken, so that he would probably be quite unfit for duty for the remainder of the cruise. When at length I was fairly coopered up and made tolerably comfortable, I sent word to Courtenay that I intended to lie down for a while, but that he was to have me called the moment that my presence on deck might be necessary, and then retired to my berth and stretched myself, dressed as I was, upon my bed, where, though I was in too much pain to get sound sleep, I soon dozed off into a kind of half-delirious stupor which, unpleasant as was the sensation, still afforded me a certain measure of relief.
From this I was aroused by the clatter of plates and dishes in the cabin, which, as it was quite dark in my berth, I rightly assumed must indicate the forwarding of preparations for dinner. I now felt very much more comfortable than when I had lain down; the violent splitting headache had almost entirely passed away; the cool soothing salve which had been liberally applied to my wound had greatly modified the burning, smarting sensation; and I experienced a feeling of by no means unpleasant languor, which produced an almost irresistible repugnance to move. I remembered, however, that the ship was now in my charge—unpleasant as it might be I could now less than ever afford to neglect my duty—so, though the effort produced a sudden giddiness and momentary lapse into almost total insensibility, I staggered to my feet and cautiously groped my way to the door of my berth, through which I passed into the close and stuffy cabin, and from thence up the companion-way and out on deck.
Here everything was so perfectly silent, save for the gentle lap and gurgle of the water alongside, that I was for a moment startled into the belief that the ship had been deserted; and it was so intensely dark that I could see absolutely nothing. Glancing aft, however, I detected a tiny glowing spark away in the neighbourhood of the taffrail, and at the same moment I heard Courtenay’s voice saying:
“Is that you, Mr O’Flaherty?”
“No,” I responded, “it is I, Lascelles. What has become of the hands, Courtenay?”
“They are below getting their suppers,” he answered. “And I told them that, when they had finished, they might turn in for an hour or two. They must be pretty well done up with their hard day’s work, and we can do nothing more now until after half-flood. How are you feeling now, old fellow? Sanderson tells me you got a very ugly clip over the head to-day in our little boxing match with the felucca. It has been rather an unfortunate business altogether—two killed and seven wounded at a single broadside from only four guns is pretty hard lines.”
“Do you mean to say that we have lost two men?” I exclaimed, for I had not heard this before.
“Yes,” was the answer. “Jones—that comical fellow who used to play the violin on the forecastle during the dog-watches, and poor Tom Cotterel have both lost the number of their mess; and there are five more in their hammocks hurt more or less severely; though I believe O’Flaherty and yourself are the worst sufferers in that respect.”
I was greatly concerned to hear this; and more than ever regretted the fool-hardihood—as I could not help thinking it—which had induced O’Flaherty to rush headlong, as it were, into a lagoon so shallow that there was scarcely water enough in it in the deepest part to float the schooner, and abounding, moreover, as we had found to our cost, in shoals, of the position of which we knew absolutely nothing. The mischief, however, had been done, and nothing now remained but to make the best of it; with which reflection we made our way below to dinner in obedience to the steward’s summons.
As we entered the cabin Sanderson, the surgeon, emerged on tiptoe from O’Flaherty’s state-room, and requested us, in a whisper, to make as little noise as possible, as the lieutenant, under the influence of a soothing draught, had just dropped off to sleep.
“I want to keep him as quiet as possible,” continued Sanderson, “for if he is disturbed or excited I am afraid I shall have a deal of trouble with him. What I am principally afraid of in his case—as in yours, Lascelles—is an access of fever, which, with its resulting restlessness, may retard the healing of the wound, or even bring on mortification.”
“And what about the others?” I asked, “are any of their injuries severe?”
“No; chiefly lacerations, painful enough, but not serious,” was the reply. “Those rascals must have fired nothing but langridge, or canister.”
“Ay,” said Courtenay; “and had they fired a little earlier, and so allowed the charges to scatter more, they would have made a clean sweep of our decks. As it was the charges took effect almost like solid shot, as may be seen by the marks in the planking and bulwarks where they struck.”
“Ah, well! it’s a good job it was no worse,” remarked Sanderson. “It has had one good result, in that it has let some of the wild Irish blood out of O’Flaherty, and has taught us the lesson, let us hope, to be a trifle more cautious in future. And, by the by, in the meantime, whilst he is on his beam-ends, which of you youngsters is going to be skipper?”
“Oh, Lascelles, of course,” answered Courtenay quickly. “We joined the service together, you know; but he is a few months my senior in point of age. Moreover, he is ever so much the better navigator of the two; indeed I am ashamed to say I am so shaky in my navigation that I should really be almost afraid to take sole charge of a ship. I might manage all right, but I am not absolutely sure of myself, and that is an awfully unpleasant feeling to have, let me tell you, when you are occupying a position of responsibility.”
The land-breeze, meanwhile, had sprung up, and was by this time blowing pretty strongly; so, as I was a trifle anxious about the raft with the guns alongside, we hurried our meal to a conclusion; and, whilst Sanderson first took another peep at O’Flaherty, and then went forward to look after the rest of his patients, Courtenay and I went on deck, where we found the gunner keeping a lookout. “Well, Mr Tompion,” said I, as the man approached, “how are matters looking here on deck?”
“All quiet, sir,” was the reply, “leastways as far as one can be sartain on sich a pitch-dark night as this. It’s lightnin’ a little away down there to the west’ard, and durin’ one o’ the flashes I sartaintly did think I see some objek a-movin’ away over there in the direction where the felucca came from, but when the next flash took place there weren’t a sign of anything.”
“Oh, indeed!” said I, “what did the object look like?”
“Well, sir, it might ha’ been a boat—or a raft—or it might only ha’ been the trunk of a tree struck adrift; but if it had been a tree I don’t think as it would ha’ wanished quite so quick.”
“How long ago was this, Mr Tompion?”
“Just a minute or two afore you came on deck, sir.”
“Well,” said I, “we must keep a sharp lookout, that is all we can do at present Is there anybody on the lookout on the forecastle?”
“Yes, sir, Jack Sinclair and Bob Miles.”
“Thank you, that will do, Mr Tompion,” said I, and the man turned away to his former post at the gangway.
Whatever the mysterious object might have been it was invisible on the occurrence, not only of the next, but also of several succeeding flashes of the bluish summer lightning which quivered up from behind a heavy bank of cloud low down on the western horizon, momentarily lighting up with a weird evanescent radiance the lagoon, the mainland, the distant islands toward which our suspicious glances were directed, and the ship herself, which, partially dismantled as she was, looked in the faint and momentary illumination like the ghost of some ancient wreck hovering over the scene of her dissolution; the incident was therefore soon forgotten as Courtenay took me round from point to point explaining what further steps he had taken, after my retirement below in the afternoon, to facilitate the floating of the ship.
The tide was now again making, and at length, about two bells in the first watch, we became conscious that the schooner, which had been lying somewhat over on her port bilge, was gradually becoming more upright. Meanwhile the lightning had ceased, and the darkness had become, if possible, more profound than ever, whilst the only sounds audible were the rippling splash of the water alongside, the melancholy sough of the wind, and the faint chirr of insects ashore which the breeze brought off to us on its invisible wings.
As the tide made so the schooner continued imperceptibly to right herself, and at length she was so nearly upright that I thought we might set about the attempt to get her afloat. The wind, being now off-shore, was in our favour, as the deepest water was to leeward or to seaward of us, and the canvas, had I dared to set it, would have materially assisted us; but I did not care to set it, as, once off the bank, we should have perforce to remain at anchor where we were until morning, any attempt at navigating those shallows in darkness being the most utter madness. I therefore left the canvas stowed, resolving to seek its aid only as a last resort, and in the event of all other means failing, and ordered the messenger to be passed and the capstan manned. The anchor was already laid out to leeward, so the slack of the cable was soon hove in, and a steady strain brought to bear upon it, after which came the tug of war. The capstan bars were now fully manned; the tars pressed their broad chests against the powerful levers, planted their feet firmly upon the deck, straightened out their backs, and slowly pawl after pawl was gained until the schooner was once more heeling over on her bilge, this time, however, in consequence of the intense strain upon her cable.
“That’s your sort, my hearties,” exclaimed the boatswain encouragingly, as he applied his tremendous strength to the outer extremity of one of the bars, “heave with a will! heave, and she must come! heave, all of us!! now—one—two—three!!!”
The men strained at the bars until it seemed as though they would burst their very sinews; another reluctant click or two of the pawl showed that something was at length yielding; and then, first with a slow jerky motion which quickened rapidly, and ended in a mighty surge as the men drove the capstan irresistibly round, the bows of the schooner swerved to seaward, the vessel herself righted, hung for a moment, and then glided off the tail of the bank, finally swinging to her anchor, afloat once more.
“Well done, lads!” I exclaimed joyously, for it was a great relief to me to have the schooner afloat again—a sailor feels just as much out of his element in a stranded ship as he does when he personally is on terra firma—and in the exuberance of my gratification I gave orders to “splice the main brace” preparatory to the troublesome and laborious task of getting the guns and ballast on board once more.