Chapter Seventeen.
The Barrier Reef.
As the light increased, the land in front could be seen more distinctly rising steadily out of the seal with the high elevated peak in the centre which Mr Meldrum had identified the day before as the Mount Ross marked on the chart. The mountain, however, showed now on the port bow; so, the ship must necessarily have run down a considerable portion of the western coast, after they had abandoned the idea of weathering the island on the port tack—which they had done as soon as they were alarmed by the sound of breakers, letting her drive to leeward—before the collision with the berg. This was a discovery which did not appear to give Mr Meldrum much satisfaction.
“It’s a great pity,” he said to the captain, “that we could not get round that northerly cape I pointed out to you, before the snowstorm and sea-fog set in! There were one or two good bays there marked on the chart, such as Christmas Harbour and Cumberland Bay, which have been properly sounded and have the points laid down; but of this western coast little appears known, and it has been only from surmise that the outlines of the map have been sketched in. I really don’t think any exploring party has ever visited it since Monsieur Lieutenant de Kerguelen-Trémarec briefly surveyed it in 1772—more than a hundred years ago.”
“And it might have changed a lot since then,” observed Captain Dinks.
“Yes,” continued Mr Meldrum; “for the French discoverer narrated all sorts of wonders about a raging volcano, with geysers and hot springs like those of Iceland; and if volcanic agency has been at work since then, no doubt the place is very much altered.”
“If there is a live crater there, it can’t be so very cold then, eh?”
“I don’t know about that,” replied Mr Meldrum. “Away in the north, I have seen boiling water freeze as soon as it was exposed to the outside air; so I don’t suppose it will be much warmer here than we can expect from all accounts.”
But, warm or cold, it was the only haven of refuge for the sinking ship, which slowly, and more slowly still, by reason of the stormy sea and shifting wind, the latter of which grew gustier as the morning advanced, made her laboured way towards the land in crab-like fashion—half sailing, half drifting, and burying her bows deeply every now and then in the heavy rollers she was powerless now to ride over, and rising again from the water so sluggishly that it sometimes seemed impossible that she would recover herself, but must founder, whenever she took a deeper plunge than usual.
Bye and bye, Mr Lathrope came on deck escorting Kate Meldrum; although our heroine looked more like escorting him, for he was very pale and appeared much thinner than before—if that were possible to one belonging to the order of “Pharaoh’s lean kine!”
It was the first appearance of the American outside the cuddy since the accident that had crippled him, and he could not help noticing the altered state of the ship—having last seen her just before she encountered the cyclone.
“Snakes and alligators, Cap, but you hev hed it rough, and no mistake!” said he to Captain Dinks, gazing with surprise at the broken bulwarks, which had been torn away when the masts went by the board, the wrecked forecastle, and the unsightly stumps to which the jury-masts had been attached, which now occupied the place of the tall graceful spars and neatly-braced yards, with the canvas smoothly stowed away in shipshape fashion, that he had left so trim when he went below that stormy night. “Why, you’re busted up entirely, I guess!”
“Not quite yet, I hope,” replied Captain Dinks, smiling mournfully as he, too, looked around; “but, the old Nancy has been sadly battered about. Ah, Mr Lathrope, if she hadn’t been a stout built one, she’d have gone to the bottom before this!”
“You bet!” said the American, humouring this little remaining bit of pride the old seaman had in the ship he had commanded for so many years, a pride that was mingled with a sorrow at her approaching end, which he could foresee and mourn over, as if the vessel had been a living thing—“she’s been a clipper in her time, and made a smart fit for it; but, the winds and the waves have licked her at last, same as they done me, when they squoze in my durned ribs t’other day.”
But, the captain could not laugh at what the other had said as a joke about himself, just in order to banish the poor skipper’s gloom. It seemed to him a sort of sacrilege towards the Nancy Bell to liken her mortal injuries to the mere temporary ones of the American; so he turned the conversation.
“I hope you feel better now?” he said.
“Wa-al, I ain’t downright slick and hearty agin, that’s a fact; fur my innards got a’most druv into smash! But I’m picking up, I guess, and feed reg’ler; so I s’pose I’ll do, Cap, for an old hoss, eh? Durned if I don’t feel kinder peckish now. Hullo, my lily-white friend,” added he, catching sight of Snowball, who was bustling about the galley close to him, for Mr Lathrope had gone down on the main-deck along with Captain Dinks, to inspect the damage to the ship more narrowly than he was able to do on the poop. “Ain’t it near breakfast-time? I hope you’ve got something for us as good as that lobscouse last night: it wer prime, and no mistake!”
“Golly, massa, no time for um ’scouse dis mornin’—too busy bilin’ beef; but breakfast in um brace of shakes,” replied the darkey, grinning from ear to ear and showing his white teeth and full lips to great advantage.
“I’m durned glad to hear it,” said Mr Lathrope. “Look alive, Ivories, fur I feels a kinder sinkin’ in my stummick that tells me it’s time to stow in grub. You’re a prime cook, let me tell you, darkey, and hev done me a heap of good since I’ve ben aboard!”
“Glad massa like um cookin’,” replied Snowball; and he bustled back into his galley with the intention of continuing to deserve the high encomium he had received from such an authority on eating as the steward had reported the American to be, while the latter proceeded to remount the poop ladder and join Kate. She, however, was not now alone, Frank Harness having seized the opportunity of seeing her on deck to come up and speak to her; and the two parted with some little embarrassment as soon as Mr Lathrope approached.
Towards mid-day, the Nancy Bell had closed with the land so much that its features could be distinguished. A bare, inhospitable coast it looked!
It seemed nothing but a series of abrupt cliffs and headlands, six to eight hundred feet high—as well as could be judged from the distance they were off—at the base of which the waves thundered, sending up columns of spray, without any bay or opening into which they could run the ship with any chance of getting ashore in safety.
There was, certainly, a projecting cape stretching far into the sea, like an arm, to the southward, to which point the coast-line trended, and beyond that there might probably be a harbour of some sort for it was to the lee of the island; but then, the wind was now blowing from the southward and westward—the very direction almost they ought to take to give the point a wide berth—and thus, unless it chopped round, it would be utterly impossible for the crippled vessel to round the headland, save by a miracle.
Captain Dinks and Mr Meldrum looked at each other in blank dismay; for, the gale seemed to be rising again, while the sea got rougher and rougher every moment, and dark masses of cloud began to pile themselves up along the horizon to seaward. If they were unable to beach the ship soon it was but only too apparent that she would sink from under them in deep water, when—God help those on board!
Suddenly, however, when hope abandoned them both, there was a break in the dark sky just overhead and a bit of blue was to be seen, followed presently by a gleam of sunshine which sent a ray of comfort into their hearts and bid them not utterly despair. This caused one, at least, to pluck up his courage again.
“It is close on noon now,” said Mr Meldrum, speaking cheerfully, “we had better take an observation, so as to see where we precisely are.”
“And what good will that do us?” asked the Captain disconsolately; “no amount of observations are of any use to us now.”
But he fetched out his sextant all the same, as well for the mere sake of doing “something” as to oblige Mr Meldrum; and taking advantage of a favourable opportunity, he “took” the sun.
“We’re in 49 degrees 10 minutes south latitude,” he observed after a short interval during which he had been calculating his reckoning, “and 68 degrees 45 minutes east longitude—if that information can help us!”
“I’ll soon tell you,” answered Mr Meldrum stretching out on the binnacle a chart of Kerguelen Land which he had brought up from the cabin, and marking on it the position of the ship with a pencil. “Yes, it’s exactly as I thought just now. You see that headland, there to starboard? That is the promontory put down here as Cape Saint Louis; and if we can get round it, there, as you see in the chart, we’ll find ourselves in a large sheltered bay, safe from the ocean swell, where we can run her ashore with ease. Why, it is the very thing! how providential it was that I put in this chart by accident along with some others of the Pacific I had amongst my papers! I didn’t know I had it till the other day.”
“Ah,” said Captain Dinks, returning to the main question, “but how are we going to weather the point, eh? That’s the difficulty.”
“We may do it yet,” replied Mr Meldrum, whose hopes appeared to rise the more the Captain seemed determined to look gloomily on the outlook. “You can see for yourself that we are drifting equally as much to the south as we are sailing towards the coast, and making about the same progress each way. From this circumstance I have little doubt that there is a considerable current running southwards; and if so, it may carry us round the cape—especially should the wind shift to the northward.”
“Aye, if it should!” said Captain Dinks sarcastically.
“I do not really see why it should not,” persisted Mr Meldrum, “it has already veered about a good deal this morning; and, if you remember, both yesterday afternoon and on the previous day it shifted shortly after sunset to that very direction.”
“Yes, I recollect,” said the other with grim humour, “and the shift brought a snowstorm and a fog with it on each occasion! I hope, really, with all my heart, Mr Meldrum,” he added more heartily, “that the weather may be as accommodating as you seem to fancy; but, as a matter of precaution, I will go and see that the boats may be ready, in case we have to abandon the ship soon, which I think will be the end of it all. They are both patched up now, so as to be pretty serviceable; and fortunately, there’ll be no difficulty in getting them over the side, as the bulwarks have been swept away, and all we’ll have to do will be to launch them into the water. I am just going to superintend the stowage of the provisions and water casks. They are piled on the main-deck quite handy; and I will see, too, that the oars and sails are not forgotten.”
“Very good,” answered Mr Meldrum. “But I hope we sha’n’t want them after all; and, while you are down there, I’ll remain here and look after the pilotage of the ship—that is, if you’ll send some one below in my place to see to my daughters and their arrangements. I have told Kate already that she must only take the barest necessaries with her, in case we have to embark in the boats, and above all, not to forget warm clothing for herself and Florry; so you’d better advise whoever you send down, to see that Mrs Major Negus does the same. Mr Lathrope is smart enough to look after himself.”
“Aye, aye,” said Captain Dinks, as he turned to descend to the main-deck, “I think I’ll send down Frank Harness. He’s the most of a ladies’ man on board the ship, and I imagine that he and Miss Kate will get on pretty well together, eh, Mr Meldrum?”
But the other made no reply to this remark. He was too busily engaged just then in looking out across the rolling sea astern, and watching a haze which appeared to be creeping up over the water to the northward, with a dark line of cloud hovering over it, both coming rapidly towards the ship.
“Hurrah!” he exclaimed at last in an ecstasy of joy, when his faint hope became confirmed into a certainty; “the wind’s shifting, and chopping round to the north in our favour!”
“You don’t say so?” said Captain Dinks equally excited, abandoning the provisioning of the boats and skipping up the poop-ladder like a young two-year-old; “why, yes, really! It’s the best piece of news I ever heard! Put the helm amidships!” he added to the man at the wheel. “We’ll have to ease her round and run before it a bit for the last time; and if the wind only holds to the northward for a short spell, we’ll get round the point yet and lay her old bones ashore decently. Steady, Boltrope, steady!”
“Steady it is!” laconically answered the carpenter, whose trick it was at the wheel, obeying the captain’s directions implicitly.
“Look alive, McCarthy, and square the yards,” was the captain’s next command; “but do it gingerly, my man, do it gingerly! If we lose the jury-masts now it will be all up with us.”
“Aye, aye, sorr,” was the response of the chief mate, as he aided himself in carrying out the order; and the vessel’s head coming round south by west, under the impulse of the helm and the shifting of the sails, she began to exhibit some of her old powers and claw off the land, bringing the cape now to bear upon her port bow well to leeward.
In addition to this, it was perceived that she made much better way through the water than when she had been steering direct for the shore, as, from the breeze being now well abeam, it made her heel over on her side, thus elevating her broken bows somewhat and preventing her from dipping her head so frequently in the waves.
It was a moment of intense interest and suspense, everybody being on deck to witness the struggle the ship was making against the odds opposed to her.
If she got round the point, they would be comparatively safe—at least they thought so; whereas, if the wind failed, or a brace started, or the rudder proved powerless to guide her at a critical period, the vessel would be driven against the iron-bound cliff they were approaching in an oblique line—against whose base the heavy rollers were now thundering with a crashing roar that each instant became louder as they neared the point, throwing their spray high up its precipitous face; and then—Why, they were lost!
Frank Harness was at this time standing by the side of Kate and Florry on the poop; but nearer to the former, who had just asked him to save her little sister should the ship strike.
“I will,” said he in a whisper close to her ear, “God helping me! and you, too; but call me ‘Frank’ again, Miss Meldrum. You did so once, you know, when you caught me that time I was nearly washed overboard, and saved me!”
“Do you remember that?” asked Kate.
“I do,” said he; “how could I forget it? Do not fear, I’ll save you and Florry too!”
“Thank you, ‘Frank,’ then for your promise,” whispered she—in accents so low that they were almost drowned by the noise of the waves dashing against the cliff; but he heard her, and his face lightened up as brightly as if he had been redeemed from all peril and saw heaven before him.
Onward the ship sped, ever drawing closer to that terrible wall of rock and yet gaining at the same time inch by inch on the promontory, that jutted out into the sea like an arm stretched forth to stay her progress; while, as the anxious moments flew by, the northerly wind which had come so opportunely to their rescue gradually rose into a gale, threatening to destroy them—the Nancy Bell approaching the cliff so closely, as she skirted by, that it seemed to those on board that they might have touched it by merely stretching out their hands over the side. The sky, too, was growing darker and darker every moment.
They were now quite near the southerly point of the cape, and within half a cable’s length of its precipitous face: five minutes—three minutes—one minute—would settle the question.
“Luff, man, luff!” shouted the captain, as all held their breath with excitement.
It was a case of touch and go!
“Hurrah! down with the helm! she’s done it!” called out Captain Dinks again, as the vessel glided by the last spur of the promontory, and, rounding to on the other side, she seemed to get into smoother water—a fine beach stretching out in the distance a few miles away and no rocks being apparent—“the old ship has conquered, and won the race after all.”
His triumph, however, was as short-lived as it was premature.
Hardly had the Nancy Bell rounded the cape, than the air grew dense around them, and snow began to fall heavily; while a thick fog rising, shut out the shore and every object from view. Then, as Captain Dinks and Mr Meldrum were deliberating whether it would be better under the circumstances to run the ship straight for the beach—which they had calculated to be some five miles in front of them to the south-east or the cape they had just passed—or else to continue pumping until the weather got lighter and they could see better where they were going, the matter was settled for them, in a very unexpected manner, by the ship running on to a sunken ridge of rock immediately under her forefoot; and, in a moment, there she stuck hard and fast, bumping and scraping her bottom, with a harsh, grating sound and a quivering and rending of her timbers, as if every plank below the water-line was being torn out of her piecemeal.
The Nancy Bell had struck on some barrier reef, which guarded at a distance the desolate and inhospitable shore, just at the very moment everything was deemed secure and all danger past! And, as she stranded, the thick-falling white snow which had already covered the decks seemed to be busy wreathing a shroud for the ill-fated ship, while the surges sang her requiem in their dull, heart-breaking roar—the sea-fog hanging over the scene of the calamity the while like a sombre pall.