Chapter Sixteen.
Almost a Mutiny.
Towards midnight, the slight surface fog, which had up to that time hung over the sea, lifted, when it could be seen that the ice had almost all disappeared—drifting towards the south, where some towering bergs, amongst which probably was the one that had done all the mischief to the ill-fated vessel, were conspicuous in the distance.
The wind, also, had diminished considerably in force, blowing now from a point to the westward of north, although the waves were still rolling heavily, as they always do for some time after a storm in the southern ocean, setting in towards the land that was just faintly visible right ahead of the Nancy Bell, and whither she was now proceeding steadily, but, of course, making but very slow progress through being waterlogged forwards and possessing such small sail-power.
There was no moon, to complete the description; but the heavens above were twinkling with bright stars that gave sufficient light to illumine the horizon for miles round, for they touched up the crests of the waves with coruscations of silver, and made the broken spray gleam like jets of flame above the dark expanse of water. Everything, in a word, looked favourable for their enjoying a quiet interval on board after all the anxiety and hard work of the preceding day and night.
Seeing that no pressing danger was imminent, and that nothing more could be done for the present, Mr Meldrum tried to induce Captain Dinks, who had been on deck for over forty-eight hours, to go below and have some rest, as he had a good deal yet before him to go through, and looked fagged and worn-out.
But the captain would not hear of the suggestion for a moment.
“No,” said he; “I mistrust that mutinous chap, Bill Moody, and the lot who sided with him in making a rush for the boats when we struck. I know they would be up to some mischief or other as soon as my back is turned.”
“But there is McCarthy your chief mate,” replied Mr Meldrum, “surely he can take command of the vessel, as he has so often done before, while you have a spell off?”
“Ah, McCarthy, though as good an officer as ever stepped a plank, isn’t myself, Mr Meldrum; and as for Adams, he wants backbone, while Frank Harness is too young a lad for the men to obey him if any difficulty arose. Besides, there are a lot of things to see to that want my supervision, which must be given while I have this breathing time—the boats have to be prepared and provisioned, for instance.”
“Talking of that,” interrupted the other, “I have roused up that lazy steward of yours and set him to work collecting all the tinned meats and cabin stores he can find, and getting them up out of the steerage.”
“That’s right,” said the captain. “It was very thoughtful, and just what I had intended doing myself, only I forgo it! I have got our old friend Snowball, the cook, busy here in the same way, boiling as much salt beef and pork as he can cram into his coppers, so that it may be ready-cooked when wanted and save time. The darkey has got the galley fire in full blast now.”
“A good precaution,” said Mr Meldrum; “but I do wish I could get you to go below. If you like I’ll remain on deck in your stead?”
But, no! Captain Dinks would not hear of leaving the deck until the fate of the poor Nancy Bell was settled for good or ill; and there he remained amidships—the mates sticking by him and lending a willing hand so as to inspire the crew with an equal energy—superintending the constant pumping operations which were necessary to keep the water from gaining, one watch at a time being engaged solely on the task. Others were preparing the longboat and jolly-boat for service, which was a tedious job, for the gunwales and bottom planking of both had been damaged greatly by the knocking about they had sustained since leaving England, even if they had been properly seaworthy then—a very problematical point, for many of the boats of merchant ships which carry passengers on distant voyages are never taken off the chocks or tested from year’s end to year’s end, in spite of all marine codes and Passenger Acts or Board of Trade ordinances to the contrary, and Mr Plimsoll’s effort notwithstanding!
When Mr Meldrum got below again he found that matters had quieted down in the cuddy. Mrs Negus, persuaded at last that the ship was not immediately going to engulf herself and her darling boy, had been induced to take some refreshment—Snowball sending in a splendid hot supper by the direction of the captain, as the regular routine of the meals in the cuddy had been somewhat revolutionised through the calamities of the vessel. If she had any scruples, Mr Lathrope set the good lady a praiseworthy example in looking after the necessities of the inner man.
“S’pose we air gwine down to Davy Jones’s Locker,” said the American, with a comical twinkle in his cunning grey eyes; “thar’s no reason why we shouldn’t go with a full stummick as well as one like an empty meal sack, hey? Look at me, marm. I treats it philosopherically, I dew, fur I find thars nothin’ like feedin’ to keep up a coon’s grit.”
Mrs Major Negus murmured something about “somebody” being “shockingly vulgar,” but, whether inspired by Mr Lathrope’s “philosopherical” remark or not, she could not resist a second helping of some capital “lobscouse” which the darkey cook had dished up most appetisingly; after which the good lady retired to her cabin for the night in much more cheerful spirits.
Florry’s cut head was easier, too, and by Mr Meldrum’s directions she and Kate turned in comparatively early. They really both wanted a good night’s rest, and their father was not long in following out his own precept, advising Mr Lathrope to do likewise, to which he was nothing loth; so that, soon after eight bells had struck, all the occupants of the saloon were buried in repose and the ship quiet—with the exception of an occasional tinkering sound from the main-deck, coupled with the “clink-clank” of the chain-pumps and the wash of the waves past the sides, all of which were almost inaudible aft.
About four bells in the morning watch, Mr Meldrum awoke; and, without disturbing any of the others, he rose and went on deck.
He seemed to have a presentiment of something happening.
It was quite dark now, the stars having gone in and the sky become clouded over; while the wind had changed and was blowing in short sharp gusts from the southward, which, with the chopping sea, made the ship labour a good deal, taking in lots of water forward. She seemed to bury her head in every wave, her bows being so depressed from the fore compartment being full; and this compelled the crew in consequence to work double spells at the pumps, which caused much grumbling, for the men were almost dead beat, although Captain Dinks still kept them hard at it.
The disaffection had almost reached a head before Mr Meldrum came up, on account of the captain keeping the port watch, in which was Moody and two of his special chums—at the unpleasant task, without allowing them a turn off below, as he had done the other watch, the members of which, however, had had their spell of duty before “all hands” had been called, and thus were fully entitled to the relief. But, the grumblers, in considering their own grievance, did not recollect this, and the appearance of the passenger, whom some of them were already inclined to dislike from something Ben Boltrope had dropped of his being a naval man, and the fact of his now ranging himself alongside of the captain, as if to support his authority, brought matters to a crisis.
“Spell ho!” shouted Bill Moody defiantly, dropping his arms and striking work. “I’m hanged if I pump another stroke! The blessed old hulk can go to the bottom as soon as she likes.”
“Nor I,” exclaimed another, likewise leaving off. “Nor I!” chorused half a dozen more; and, in a second, the pumps were at a standstill.
Adams, the second mate, who was in charge of the men on the main deck—Mr McCarthy and Frank Harness having been sent below by Captain Dinks along with the starboard watch—stood meanwhile, staring aghast at the delinquents and not knowing what to do, “like a stock fish,” as Mr Meldrum thought, looking on the scene.
It was a critical moment.
Captain Dinks, of course, hearing the steady “clink, clank” of the pumps stop, knew that something had occurred, and guessed the cause; but he waited to hear what the second mate would say before he interfered, nudging Mr Meldrum to call his attention, although the latter was already listening with keen interest.
“Do, my men,” they could hear Adams entreat the rebellious gang, “do put your hearts into it and start work again! It won’t be for long, you know.”
“A cursed sight too long for me!” said Moody, interrupting him with a coarse laugh. “You aren’t a going to come over us with your soft sawder, nor the skipper neither! I, for one, ain’t agoing to have any more o’ this slave-driving work! Why should we sweat our hearts out trying to keep the old tub afloat and drive her to shore, when we can reach there quite as well in the boats, without half the trouble? I votes for quitting her at once—what say you, mates?” and he turned round to the others, seeking their support.
“Aye, aye!” shouted several voices together with acclamation. “Let us have no more pumping or slaving; but quit the ship at once and leave the cussed thing to sink. To the boats! To the boats!”
Captain Dinks thought he had allowed the matter to go far enough. The time for action had arrived, and he was ready.
“Hold!” cried he, in clear ringing tones that penetrated fore and aft the vessel and which could be heard above every other sound, advancing to the top of the poop ladder and drawing a revolver from his pocket as he spoke. “The first man who touches either of those boats without my orders, I’ll shoot like a dog!”
At the first sound of his voice the men had stopped speaking, and now there was a dead silence in which you could have heard a pin drop. Not a movement was made by any of the men—all standing still as if turned to stone.
“Do you know that what you are doing, men, is rank mutiny?” continued the captain, taking advantage of the occasion. “Return to your duty at once, however, and I’ll think no more about it. What I am making you do is for the good of us all, and I wouldn’t give you a moment’s unnecessary work if I could avoid it!”
“But,” interposed Bill Moody.
“Ah, I thought it was you, you scamp, ever trying to foment discord amongst the crew—a lazy hound, always grumbling and skulking, you’re not worthy the name of a sailor—you are only a thing aboard a ship! I’ll soon settle your reckoning, my hearty!” And, little man as he was, Captain Dinks sprang down the poop ladder in one bound; and, dashing up to where Moody was standing, knocked him senseless to the deck with a blow from the butt end of the pistol which he held in his hand right across his temples.
“There!” exclaimed he, when the ringleader of the gang was thus disposed of, kicking his body on one side and spurning it with his foot. “That’s the way I deal with mutineers! Now, man the pumps again, my lads, and set to work with a will. As Mr Adams told you just now, it will not be for long that you’ll have to stick at it, for we’ll soon be able to beach the vessel, and then your task will cease!”
Cowed by his summary treatment of Moody, rather than encouraged by his words, the men started pumping again, although without any heartiness, clink-clanking till daylight, when they were relieved by the other watch and went below, taking Moody with them—that worthy having regained his consciousness after a time, in consequence of the water in the lee scuppers, where he was lying, washing over him and acting more efficaciously than the application of smelling-salts or sal volatile would have done under other circumstances.
Before the mutineer went below, however, he turned his scowling face towards the poop, the blood all streaming down from a rather ugly cut on the left temple, and shook his fist in the direction of Captain Dinks, although the latter did not see the gesture, for his face was turned at the moment to the binnacle.
But, Mr Meldrum saw it.
“You’ll have some more trouble yet from that fellow!” said he to the captain, relating what he had seen and telling how Moody looked.
“Pooh!” exclaimed the captain. “He’s only a bully and a lazy grumbler; and all bullies and grumblers are curs at heart!”
“Ah,” said the other, “but those sort of sneaking chaps are just as likely to knife you as not when your back’s turned, though they would be afraid to face you pluckily, like a man.”
“Let him knife away,” replied Captain Dinks. “That is, if I give him the chance! I fancy he’ll remember that little tap I gave him just now; and if he gives me any occasion for it he shall have another!” The skipper then went away laughing, but Mr Meldrum, from the vindictive look he had seen on the man’s face did not think it a laughing matter at all.