Chapter Eighteen.
A Foul Blow!
Every one was on deck at the time—the crew, the officers, the passengers; but, with the exception of a slight scream from Mrs Major Negus, which passed unnoticed, not a single exclamation of terror or alarm was uttered. All seemed completely stupefied by the unexpected shock, their consternation being too great for words—they stood as if spell-bound!
Captain Dinks was the first to break the silence.
“God forgive me!” he cried out to everybody’s surprise. “It is all my fault!”
“Your fault!” repeated Mr Meldrum; “how—why?”
“I should have had a man forward, sounding with the lead, but I quite forgot it—quite forgot it; and this has happened.”
“Nonsense, man!” said the other to cheer him up—the captain appearing to be more concerned at his own neglect, as he regarded it, than he was at the actual fact of the ship’s striking on the reef—“such a precaution would have been utterly useless! We were probably in deep water a minute before; and even if a man had been stationed in the chains, he could scarcely have had time to have swung the lead and sang out the marks, before she was on the rocks! It is one of those unforeseen calamities that are inevitable and which can never be prevented by any human foresight. I for one, and I’ve no doubt every one else here agrees with me, entirely exonerate you from all blame.”
The captain was endeavouring to make some broken reply, as far as his deep emotion would allow, when Mrs Major Negus interrupted him.
“Speak for yourself, please, Mr Meldrum,” she exclaimed, elbowing herself forwards in front of the group, her shrill high-pitched voice sounding almost like another scream, as she waved her arms wildly about and addressed Mr Meldrum and Captain Dinks alternately. “Speak for yourself, please, for I don’t agree with you at all! I say it is the captain’s fault; and he knows it, though it’s rather late in the day for him to acknowledge it! And I’d like to know, sir, how I and my darling boy are going to get on shore now in this blinding snowstorm—in such a bleak and dreary outlandish place, too! A nice captain you are; and you bargained to take us safe to New Zealand when you took our passage-money. My poor Maurice, oh my dear boy, you’ll never, never see your father now, for we’ll all be drowned, and Captain Dinks is the cause of it!”
So shrieking, she proceeded to weep and wail in a way that made Mr Meldrum lose all patience with her.
“Peace, woman!” cried he indignantly. “This is no time for hysterics and such violent displays: you’d better keep them till the fine weather comes, and remain quiet now! The best thing you can do if you hope to escape, is to allow the captain to see about getting the boats ready to take us off, for the ship will probably break up soon.”
His latter remark, while it reduced “the Major” to a state of limp collapse that made her silent and subdued, had the effect he intended, of rousing the captain to action—thus causing him to forget for a time his grief at the Nancy Bell’s disaster in having to exert himself so as to provide for the safety of those on board.
“Main-deck ahoy there!” he shouted.
“Aye, aye, sorr,” answered the first mate, who had remained there, looking to the trimming of the sails while the ship was working up to the cape.
“Have the men finished storing those things in the boats yet?”
“They’re jist at it now, sorr. We were all a bit flabbergasted when the poor crathur struck; but we’re working hard now, sorr, and the boats will soon be ready to launch into the wather.”
“That’s right, McCarthy, we’ve no time to lose. Send one of the hands forwards to see how her head lies.”
“Aye, aye, sorr. Mr Adams has gone already sure: an’ I’ve sint the carpenter, Boltrope, to sound the well.”
“He’d better by far sound alongside, to see what depth of water we’re in and which would be the best side for launching the boats off!” replied Captain Dinks. “But stay, Harness,” he added, “you can do that. Heave the lead aft here, and then amidships, telling me what soundings you get.”
On returning from his mission forwards, Mr Adams reported that the vessel’s bows were fixed hard and fast between two conical points of rock, which were covered by about four fathoms of water; while Frank Harness, who had been sounding round the ship as the captain directed, stated that there were twenty fathoms of water aft and the same on the port side amidships, but on the starboard, or right-hand side, the lead only gave the same depth the second mate had found forward—consequently, the ship’s stern, being so much lighter than the flooded fore-compartment, had slewed round with the sea towards the reef, on which therefore the Nancy Bell must have projected herself more than half her length. Probably, had her bows not been so depressed, she would have gone over it altogether with a scrape, merely taking off her false keel and dead-wood without doing any material damage.
As it was, however, there she was; and the question now was whether the tide was at the ebb or flow at the time she struck. If the former, the likelihood was that as soon as the tide began to rise, the vessel would float off and founder, Boltrope having reported that there were eight feet of water in the hold and that it was gaining fast—the pumping operations, of course, having long since been stopped, but, should she have run on the reef at high water, there she was immovably fixed as long as she held together; and in that case they would be able to get ashore to the mainland in comfort, almost at their own convenience, should the weather remain calm, in addition to saving many articles from the wreck that would be of use to them, and a much larger proportion of the ship’s provisions and stores.
After the first bumping and scraping that had immediately succeeded her stranding, the Nancy Bell had remained quiet, as if the old ship was glad to be at rest after all the buffeting about and bruisings she had received from the boisterous billows. Hence, the natural alarm that had been excited by the ship’s striking had calmed down, there being nothing in her present situation to heighten the sense of danger; for the vessel was sheltered from the wind under the lee of the cape, and the sea, in comparison with the rough water she had recently passed through and the stormy waves she had battled with when beating round the point, was almost calm. Everybody, therefore, inspired by the example set them by Mr Meldrum and the captain, remained perfectly cool and collected, the crew obeying the orders given them with alacrity and working as heartily as if the poor old Nancy Bell were still the staunch clipper of yore, careering over the ocean in the full panoply of her canvas plumage and prosecuting her voyage, instead of lying, a broke and battered hulk, hard and fast ashore on an outlying reef of rocks at Kerguelen Land, the “Desolation Island”—name of ominous import—of Antarctic whaling ships!
Even Bill Moody, mutinous as he had shown himself before and lazy to a degree, now appeared metaphorically to “put his shoulder to the wheel,” as if to make amends for the past, lending a willing hand to the preparations that were being made by Mr McCarthy for equipping the boats and laying down ways for launching them from the main-deck—there being no davits now, nor any means for rigging a derrick to lift them over the side. Indeed, when Mr Adams ordered a gang to man the pumps again on the carpenter’s reporting that the water was gaining in the hold, the whilom mutineer was one of the first to step forwards for the duty, although Captain Dinks at once countermanded the order, seeing its inutility, and saying that there was no use in working a willing horse to death!
“They could never clear her now, Adams,” said he, “pump as hard as they could; and if they did it would be useless, for she’ll never float again. However, if you want to give the men something to do, you can set to work breaking cargo and lightening her amidships, for then we’ll swing further up on the reef and get fixed more firmly.”
“Very good, sir,” replied the second mate; and the hands were therefore at once started to open the hatches, getting out some of the heavy goods from the hold below, especially the dead-weight from just abaft the main-mast, that had so deducted from the ship’s buoyancy when sailing on a wind during the earlier part of her voyage.
Moody’s change of demeanour had not escaped the notice of the captain; and he commented on it to Mr Meldrum, saying that he thought the lesson he had given him had had a very satisfactory result. “There is nothing,” said he, “so persuasive as a knock-down argument!”
The other, however, did not believe in the rapid conversion.
“I’ve heard of shamming Abraham before,” said he. “The rascal may have something to gain, and wishes to put you off your guard by his apparent alacrity and willingness to work. If you had seen the scowl he gave you when your back was turned that time after you knocked him down, you wouldn’t trust him further than you could help! I believe all this good behaviour of his is put on, and that you’ll see the real animal come out by and by.”
“All right!” said Captain Dinks as cheerfully as if the matter were of no moment to him; “we’ll see! But we must first observe the tide and the ship’s position on the rocks; I think we’ll be able to decide those points before the other matter can be settled, by a long way!”
When the Nancy Bell struck, it had been close upon six bells in the second dog-watch—seven o’clock in the evening—the entire afternoon having passed away so rapidly while those on board were anxiously watching the struggle of the vessel against the wind and sea in her endeavours to weather the cape, that, in their intense excitement as they awaited the denouement which would solve all their hopes and fears, they took no heed of the flight of time. It seemed really but a few brief minutes, instead of hours, from the period when Captain Dinks had taken the sun at noon to the terrible moment of the catastrophe.
Now, it was midnight, or approaching to it, the intervening period having glided by much more speedily through the fact of everybody having been engaged in doing something towards the common safety of all. Not even the lady passengers had been exempted from the task, Mr Meldrum having told Kate to go below and collect whatever she saw in the cabins that might be of use to them on the island; while Mrs Negus, dropping her dignity for once, cordially assisted. As for Florry and Maurice they participated in the work with the greatest glee, looking upon the wreck as if it had been specially brought about for their enjoyment, like an impromptu picnic—it was the realisation of their wildest childish dreams.
All this while the ship lay quiet, as has been stated, save that after a time she took a slight list to starboard, as if settling down on the rocks, a fact which confirmed the captain in his belief that it had been high water when she went on the reef. This increased his satisfaction.
“She won’t move now,” said he to Mr Meldrum. “She’s wedged as securely forwards as if she were on her cradle; and, unless a storm comes, she’ll last for a week.”
“How about when the tide flows again?” asked the other.
“Oh, she can’t float off. That weight of water in the fore compartment has regularly nailed her on the rocks, thus preventing the only danger I feared—that of her slipping off into deep water as the tide ebbed. As she struck when it was flood and jammed herself firmly then on the reef, there she’ll remain when it flows again; so, we have plenty of time before us to transport the whole cargo ashore if we like!”
“I hope so, I’m sure,” replied Mr Meldrum; “but you should recollect that, from the experience we’ve already had, the weather is not to be trusted for very long hereabouts. If it comes on to blow again from the south and the sea should get up, we’ll be in a nasty position.”
“Don’t croak,” said Captain Dinks, who seemed to have quite recovered his spirits as the others around him became despondent. “Look, the snowstorm has ceased already and the sea-fog is rising and drifting away. Why, we’ll have a fine bright night after all!”
It was as the captain had stated. The fog had lifted up and the snow stopped falling; but, his hopes of a fine night were doomed to be disappointed, for, although the sky above cleared for a short spell and allowed a few stray stars to peep out, while an occasional gleam of moonshine lit up the ship’s surroundings, the heavens were soon obscured again with thick driving clouds, the wind shifting to the southward and westward and blowing right into the bay behind Cape Saint Louis, where the Nancy Bell was aground.
Presently, a heavy rolling sea began to sweep in upon her from the offing; and as the tide rose again, her stern swung more to the starboard side, being driven up higher on the rocks, while her whole frame became uneasy, rocking to and fro and quivering from abaft the main hatch, the fore part of her grinding and working about in a way that threatened to tear her soon to pieces.
“I’m afraid she won’t last till morning,” said Mr Meldrum, who had never left the deck, but was watching the course of events. “We’d better take to the boats while we can. By and by it may be too late!”
“Oh no,” replied Captain Dinks, “she’ll hold out all right, and it’s best for us to land by daylight. Besides, I’ve allowed the hands to turn in, save two or three who are keeping a sort of anchor watch, and I’m not going to rouse them out again unnecessarily—poor fellows, they’ve had a hard time of it the last few days!”
“Not many of them have taken advantage of your permission,” said Mr Meldrum drily. “I fancy they feel like myself, too uneasy to sleep, with this fresh gale springing up again and the ship rocking about so!” As he spoke, he pointed to a group amidships, where at least half the crew were gathered about the boats, while some others were standing by Snowdrop’s galley and having a warm, for the night was intensely cold.
“They can please themselves,” replied the captain sententiously. “If they don’t choose to turn in, they needn’t; but I’m not going to launch the boats yet and leave the ship while it is safe. I’m considering what is best for us all, Mr Meldrum; and, excuse me, but as long as the vessel holds together I’m captain of her, and don’t intend to give over my duty to anybody else.”
This was speaking pretty plainly, so Mr Meldrum had perforce to remain silent and nurse his uneasiness; the two pacing up and down the poop on opposite sides, without ever a word passing between them for some time, just as if each ignored the other’s presence.
At two o’clock in the morning, however, the wind increased and the heavy waves began to break against the windward side of the ship, dashing over her amidships in columns of spray. She also lurched more to starboard, as if thrown on her bilge, the deck inclining to an angle of forty-five degrees.
At the same time, too, the group of men forward could be dimly seen in the half light moving about excitedly. They were evidently tired of their forced inaction; for, their voices could be heard occasionally between the lulls of the breaking waves and sound of the wind whistling by. They were grumbling in tones of dissatisfaction.
The climax was put to the matter by the sudden rushing up on deck of Mr McCarthy, whom Captain Dinks had told to go below until the morning watch.
“Be jabers, cap’en,” he exclaimed, “she’s druv in her starboard streeks against the rocks, and the wather is pouring in like winking. Faix, it is breaking up she’ll be before were out of her, sure!”
Thus urged, the captain at length gave the order to launch the boats. This was, now, a very difficult task, for the water was boiling in eddies round the ship to leeward even on her sheltered side, although a couple of hours before it had been as calm there as a mill-pond, so that a Thames outrigger might have been floated off in safety.
As soon as the men heard the tardy word of command, there was a tussle and a rush towards the long-boat, seeing which Captain Dinks, who was standing just over the break of the poop, ran down the ladder-way and stood amongst the excited group, with his arm uplifted to enforce his orders.
“Avast there!” cried he; “get away from that long-boat, and prepare to run in the jolly-boat. I want that launched first for the ladies and passengers, and I must see them all safely out of the ship before a man Jack amongst you leaves her! Go down, McCarthy,” he added to the first mate, “and ask the ladies to come on deck, sharp; we’ll have the boat prepared by the time you come up with them.”
The crew still hustled round the long-boat, however, and showed signs of insubordination, whilst a voice called out, “Let the passengers be! I say every man for himself now!”
“What is that I hear?” exclaimed the captain. “Are you men—are you British seamen—to abandon women and children in time of peril and seek your own safety?”
“My life’s as good as anyone else’s, passenger or no passenger,” cried out Bill Moody defiantly, pressing closer to Captain Dinks.
“Ah!” ejaculated the latter, “I thought it was you—what! you haven’t learnt your lesson yet, eh?” and he made a grab at the man’s neck as if to grasp it.
But, Bill Moody was prepared this time. The captain did not catch him unawares, as he had done on the previous occasion when he had knocked him down with the butt-end of his pistol.
Raising a sheath-knife, which he must have had ready drawn for the purpose in his hand, the man plunged it with all his force into the breast of the captain as he approached him.
Captain Dinks was borne back and half turned round by the strength with which the blow was delivered. Then, staggering first on to his knees, and exclaiming, “Murder! I’m a dead man! The villain has stabbed me!” he fell forwards on the deck in a pool of blood.