So that I think, apart from the disheartened condition of skipper and officers, it will be seen that the Warrior Queen was in evil case. How evil may be imagined from the fact that not one of her company had seen, far off on the other side of the little group, a trio of upright trees with branches crossing them at right angles with extraordinary regularity. When seamen neglect the obvious duty of looking around for another ship things are bad indeed. It was so in this case, and the first intimation that Captain Smith had of there being any help at hand was the arrival alongside of a white double-ended boat with five swarthy-looking men at the oars and a tall devilishly handsome man erect in the stern. This boat rounded to under the Warrior Queen’s stern in grand style, and before the dreaming fellows on board had realised that a visitor was coming Captain Da Silva had swung himself on board by the mizen chains, and with light elastic step had gained the side of Captain Smith on his broad quarter-deck. ‘Good morning, sir,’ said the new-comer. ‘G’ mornin’,’ sulkily replied the merchantman, for even in his dire distress he had the quaint old notion that he must show himself unapproachable in order to maintain his dignity. Dignity, forsooth! It’s worth a great deal when a man has to make a hog of himself to keep it in evidence. ‘Got a bit er trouble here, Cap’n?’ said Da Silva. ‘Yaas,’ drawled Captain Smith; ‘I’m afraid she isn’t worth more ’n old iron price, if that. It’s a bad job. Compasses wrong, y’ know.’ ‘Oh don’t say that,’ interjected the Portuguese; ‘I’ve got a bully crowd o’ boys here all spoilin’ fer a job. They’d ask nothin’ better than t’ git y’ afloat ag’in.’ ‘You have—an’ where, may I ask?’ said Captain Smith haughtily. (You see, his dignity needed conserving.) Captain Da Silva waved his hand airily to where the Grampus lay just discernible as a three-masted ship far off to the southward. ‘Thet’s my ship,’ said he, ‘’n’ ef yer like t’ come t’ terms with me, I’ve a-got a gang aboard thar thet’d snake yew eout of Purgatory itself. It’s only a matter of terms.’ ‘Come down below, Cap’n,’ said the now thoroughly aroused Mr. Smith. ‘I want t’ talk to you.’ And as they descended the polished teak companion, he laid his hand familiarly upon the swarthy visitor’s shoulder, saying in a confidential tone: ‘I ’spose yew’re a wrecker of some kind, ain’t you?’ ‘Me! oh, no, Captain. I’m jest a low-down whaling skipper, but I got a crew of boys a-spilin’ fur somethin’ t’ do, and ef yew’ll only say th’ word, an’ give me jes’ a leetle bill on yewr owners, I’ll bet we’ll snake yewr ship eout o’ this in short order.’ By this time they had reached the cosy saloon of the big ship, and Captain Smith had summoned the steward to bring the whisky and cigars. Solemnly they drank to each other, and then Captain Smith broached his latent idea. His ship had run ashore through no fault of his. Couldn’t he arrange for his new-found friend to take on a contract to get her off on the ‘no cure, no pay’ principle? Indeed he couldn’t. In Captain Da Silva he had met a man as much his superior in business ability as he was in seamanship, and that scheme did not work for a moment. Well, then, couldn’t he arrange for a liberal payment to the salvors with an equally liberal percentage to himself?—‘for,’ said he, ‘my pay is only twelve pounds (sixty dollars) a month here.’ The Portuguese shook his head decisively, as befitted a man who held the reins of the team.
‘Naow looky here, Cap’n Smith,’ drawled he, ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do. My best endeavours t’ git yewr ship offn thishyer reef—yew givin’ me a bill on yewr owners fur 2,500 dollars t’ begin with, and a note t’ th’ effect that if I git her off the pay’s double. As fur pussentidges, I don’t know anything about ’em an’ don’t want. Ef yew mean that I’m to share any of my earnin’s with yew—well, yew’re ’way off, ’n’ thet’s all there is to it. Ther’ isn’t anythin’ o’ that kind abaout me, young man, be sure o’ thet.’ And the two men sat and looked hard at each other. Not for long. The odds were too great, and with a heavy sigh Captain Smith went to his state-room producing paper and pen, and wrote out the agreement and the bill on his owners. This instrument, having been duly witnessed by the mate and steward, was carefully read and signed by Captain Da Silva, who then pocketed it, and springing to his feet declared himself ready to begin the carrying out of his contract. The merchant skipper, not at all used to such energetic proceedings, was taken ‘flat aback,’ as the sea saying has it, but said nothing, and Captain Da Silva departed with big leaps up the cuddy stairs. As soon as he reached the deck he shouted in a voice of thunder: ‘My boat ready? Grampus boat’s crew away!’ Then without waiting for an answer he rushed to the gangway, and finding his men all in their places (they had not dared to come on deck) he flung himself over the side, and in one minute was on his way back to his ship, standing erect in the stern and urging the toiling rowers with many figures of profane speech to do better than their very best.
It was a long pull back to the Grampus, but not one of the rowers got a spell until she was reached. Well was it for them that their training had been so severe and thorough. And on reaching the side all hands were summoned to prepare the ship for the most arduous task she had yet undertaken. Sundry orders were given with reference to mooring-chains, hawsers, kedges, &c., and while the crew fled about their tasks of filling those orders, the Captain dived below and knitted his brow over a calculation of the tides. He found (and it is noteworthy that he was able to detach his mind from all else while he worked out this important matter) that the ‘springs’ were due the following day at noon. This important matter settled, he replaced his books and sprang up the companion to the deck as if his life depended upon the ensuing minutes being husbanded with the most jealous care.
A few short, volcanic orders, and the windlass was manned, the cable came clattering in, and as soon as the anchor was ready to be broken out the sails were set, and the Grampus, obedient to the master mind, turned gently to the wind, while the few remaining links of cable were hove in, and she passed out of the tortuous reef channel seaward. The skipper stood by the helmsman, conning his vessel as if he had been acquainted with the navigation of those intricate channels all his life. It was only the usual whaler’s style, but to the ordinary seaman it was nothing short of wonderful. The clumsy-looking old ship sidled out to sea as if she knew what was required of her, and presently the waiting men on board the Warrior Queen were astonished to see a short, thick-set, full-rigged ship come around the nearest point and suddenly bring to with a kedge about two miles away, waiting apparently for the word of command to do something totally unexpected. But there was no time wasted. Two boats were lowered from the new-comer, each double-banked, and under the pressure of foaming oars they ranged alongside the big helpless hulk, their crews leaped on board headed by the Captain, who immediately demanded that all hands should be called and placed under his orders. There was a moment or so of hesitation on the part of the English ship’s officers, but while they paused the new comers had the hatches off and had rigged a couple of single whips over each. Then as the original crew realised what was a-doing, they buckled to manfully, and soon the coal was flying overboard in an almost continuous stream. Something of Captain Da Silva’s superhuman energy communicated itself to the crew of the Warrior Queen, for before many minutes had elapsed they were toiling as fiercely as any of the whaler’s men, and without in the least understanding why they should thus do violence to their long-cherished leisureliness.
Through the thick haze of coal dust might have been seen Captain Da Silva and a chosen little body of men fiercely engaged in unbending the cables from the great anchors, getting up hawsers from below, and overhauling the long-neglected boat gear. The big wire rope, intended for towing purposes and therefore leading forward, was unwound and passed aft on the starboard side, while on the port side a length of cable was shackled on to the stoutest of the ship’s hawsers, and ranged in readiness to be taken off when needed. Then Captain Da Silva, getting into his boat, carefully sounded the reef to see whether the Warrior Queen had, as so often happens, found her way alone along some special channel. He knew that many wrecks on coral reefs have done just that, and afterwards, owing to superficial observation of the surroundings, it has been taken for granted that some awful convulsion of nature in the shape of an earthquake wave or something of the sort must be held responsible for the vessel’s reaching so apparently inaccessible a spot. After an absence of only an hour he returned, having found the channel by which the ship had entered, and buoyed it with sundry lengths of lead-line and ‘blackfish’ pokes, or bladders of the small cetacean known to whalers by that trivial name. Just a few minutes on board to see that the jettison of the coal was proceeding with as much vigour as possible under the circumstances, and then off again on board the Grampus. He caused her to be worked right into the channel he had found, but stern first and as easily as a barge is taken up a winding canal. Finally, when near enough for his liking, he had two hawsers attached to his bow anchors, and the latter dropped in the channel. These were veered away to their utmost length, which brought the stern of the Grampus near enough to the stern of the Warrior Queen to allow of the wire hawser and cable-bridled hawser being secured to the former. When all these preparations were complete he gave orders that all hands should rest so as to be capable of a supreme effort next day at noon, it now being about 10 P.M., and some five hundred tons of coal having been jettisoned.
After a good meal all round, the worn-out men went to their bunks—all except Captain Da Silva, who, calling upon his particular boat’s crew, started at midnight for the long and perilous pull back to the islet where the sick were encamped. Threading the dangers of that terrible group of reef-rocks and sandbanks apparently was mere amusement to him, although at times it must have seemed to a novice as if nothing could save the frail craft from being overwhelmed by the breaking of one of those vast swells over the jagged surface of a fringing reef, through one of whose openings they were passing. But this extraordinary man seemed to bear a charmed life, and, without shipping a drop of water even, the boat arrived at the camp in three hours from the time of leaving the Warrior Queen. Noiselessly she grounded on the smooth sand, light as a fawn the skipper sprang out, and in a few minutes had peered in at both tents and seen that all was silent as the grave, at which peaceful termination to his investigations he was apparently much annoyed. Returning to the boat, he caused an impromptu shelter to be rigged up by turning her over and spreading the sail over the upraised gunwale, and, creeping in under with his satellites, all were soon sound asleep; not, however, before a huge black bottle had been impartially passed round.
At daylight the skipper awoke and went to visit his sick, finding, to his great satisfaction, that several of them were sufficiently recovered to be brought on board—they could do something, if it was only holding on the hawsers abaft the windlass. To Priscilla he said nothing—he stood looking at her doubtfully for a few minutes, while she endured his gaze as if unconscious of it. Then he turned on his heel and departed, and in a few minutes the trembling steward reported to her that ‘de Cappen, he make’n dem boat’s crew pull fur sixty sure, ma’m; dat boat jes’ a-flyin’.’
He was back at the scene of salvage operations by ten o’clock, and found, as he had expected, that all hands were loafing about, waiting for him to come and tell them what to do. But he said nothing about that, only gave orders for all square sail to be loosed on both vessels and set with as little delay as possible. For there was the usual sea breeze setting in, at no great rate it is true, but with every promise of being much stronger by noon. And it blew right fair for the channel, along which, if in any direction at all, the Warrior Queen must go. Nearer and nearer drew the critical moment, the tide rising rapidly. All hands were ordered to their stations, the Warrior Queen’s crew being, with the exception of just sufficient to trim her yards in case of necessity, all on board the Grampus at the windlass. The breeze freshened as the tide rose, and a few minutes before noon Captain Da Silva gave orders for all his reinforced crew to heave away at the windlass for dear life. The powerful leverage of that great spread of canvas on both ships, aided by the strain on the hawsers applied at just the right time, gradually made itself manifest. The vast bulk of the Warrior Queen slowly rolled, shuddered, slipped, and with a long grinding groan she moved. Frantic yells arose from the windlass-men on board of the Grampus. They felt the weight yielding, and forgetting the danger of breaking the old-fashioned machine they were trying so hardly, redoubled their efforts.
Slowly, majestically, the big ship glided seaward, steered by the mate in response to the desperate signals made from the whaler, where the skipper was now in an almost insane state of excitement lest some fool should, at the last minute, spoil all his work. But no; gently the whaler increased her speed, followed clumsily by her tow, until, at 1.30 the rescued merchantman was able to turn and pursue her way alone. Before she did so, however, Captain Da Silva, having anchored his ship, hastened on board the saved vessel, and, shaking hands warmly with Captain Smith, bade him ‘so long,’ saying to himself as he did so: ‘I guess yew want somebody to dry-nurse yew mighty bad. Don’t matter to me, though. Five thousand dollars ain’t half a bad day’s pay, an’ I guess I’ll snake it in soon ’s ever I git t’ port. He ain’t a bit t’ be ’pended ’pon, thet man.’
And, leaving the big ship to pursue her journey, the energetic rascal returned on board his own vessel, got under weigh and hastened back to his former anchorage, fully determined to get the rest of his ailing men on board, fit or not, and leave next day for sea. He reached the camp at sunset, anchored, and went ashore, finding that his wife was well on the way to complete recovery, and the rest of the poor fellows doing very well. So without any further delay, he caused the camp to be broken up, the invalids brought on board, and everything got in readiness for departure the following day.