The Boy Traders; Or, The Sportsman's Club Among the Boers

by Harry Castlemon

“In the midst of what?” asked Walter, who with the rest of the Club had watched Uncle Dick’s movements in surprise. “What is the trouble, and why was the course of the vessel changed so suddenly?”

It required but a few minutes for Frank to make his explanations, and then there were other interested ones aboard the schooner who watched the progress of the storm with no little anxiety. They noticed with much satisfaction that the strange ship to the eastward was keeping company with them; that she also had changed her course, and was sailing in a direction parallel to the one the Stranger was following. This proved that her captain’s calculations had led to the same result as those of Uncle Dick.

The wind steadily increased in force for almost four hours, being accompanied at the last by the most terrific thunder and lightning, and by such blinding sheets of rain that the boys and the trappers were driven to the cabin and kept close prisoners there. This was all they felt and all they knew of that cyclone until a long time afterward, when, in another part of the world and under more agreeable circumstances, Eugene received a paper from his friend Chase, accompanied by a letter which contained this paragraph:

“I send you to-day a copy of the Herald, in which appears an account of a terrible and most destructive storm that happened down there somewhere. As the last letter you sent me was written while you were approaching the Mangrove Islands, where Nelson performed the exploit that made him master of the Tycoon, I felt a little uneasy, fearing that you might have been caught out in it. Did you see the waves that flooded the islands named in the article referred to, and did you feel the wind that twisted off large trees as if they had been pipe-stems, and carried the tops so far away that they were never seen afterwards?”

No, the Club saw and felt none of these, but they did see and feel the effects of the protracted gale that set in at the close of that eventful day, and never abated until the Stranger had been completely dismantled, and her consort, the large ship that hove in sight just before the storm commenced, driven high and dry upon the shores of one of those inhospitable islands. This happened on the third day after the cyclone. During the whole of this time the boys and the trappers were confined to the cabin, and did not once sit down to a cooked meal, the storm being so severe that it was impossible to build a fire in the galley. During the night that followed the second day the fury of the gale seemed to increase a hundred-fold, and the boys and their two friends passed the long, gloomy hours in a state of anxiety and alarm that cannot be described. On the morning of the third day the tarpaulin that covered the cabin was suddenly thrown aside, and Uncle Dick came down. The frightened boys held their breath while they looked at him, for something told them that he had bad news for them.

“Go on deck, now,” said the old sailor, shouting the words through his trumpet, for the gale roared so loudly that he could not have made himself understood had he addressed them in any other way. “Hold fast for your lives and stand by to do as I tell you. There is an island under our lee and I can’t get away from it, because the schooner is dismantled and almost unmanageable. We are driving ashore as fast as the wind can send us. I want you boys and Dick and Bob to go to the pumps. The men are tired out.”

The boys’ hearts seemed to stop beating. They followed Uncle Dick to the deck, and grasping the life-lines he passed to them, gazed in awe at the scene presented to their view. Never in their lives, not even when rounding the Horn, had they seen such waves as they saw that morning. They seemed to loom up to the sky, and how the Stranger escaped being engulfed by some of them, drifting, as she did, almost at their mercy, was a great mystery. Of the beautiful little schooner which had been so recently refitted, there was nothing left but the hull. Both masts were gone, the bowsprit was broken short off, and a little piece of sail, scarcely larger than a good-sized pillowcase, which was rigged to a jury mast, was all the canvas she had to keep her before the wind. Now and then, as she was lifted on the crest of a billow, the boys could see the island a few miles to leeward of them, and the long line of breakers rolling over the rocks toward which the vessel was being driven with tremendous force. It seemed as if nothing could be done to avert the death toward which they were hastening, but even yet the crew had not given up all hope. There was no confusion among them, and every man was busy. Some were at the pumps, and others at work getting up the anchors and laying the cables. A sailor never gives up so long as his vessel remains afloat.

Toward the pumps the boys made their way with the assistance of the life-lines, and taking the places of the weary seamen, went to work with a will. Frank’s eyes were as busy as his arms, and whenever he could get a glimpse of the island he closely examined the long line of breakers before him, in the hope of discovering an opening in it through which the Stranger could be taken to a place of safety. He could see no opening, but he saw something else, and that was a crowd of men running along the beach.

Before Frank had time to make any further observations, one of the mates tapped him on the shoulder and made signs for him and his companions to increase their exertions at the pumps, following up these signs by others intended to convey the disagreeable information that the Stranger was taking in water faster than they pumped it out. Frank understood him, and so did the others; and if they had worked hard before, they worked harder now. The schooner was sinking, and something must be done to lighten her. Frank knew that this was the substance of the communication which Mr. Baldwin shouted into the ears of his commander, although he could not hear a word of it on account of the shrieking of the gale, and when Uncle Dick pointed toward the thirty-pounder that stood in the waist, Frank knew what he had determined on. The gun was to be thrown overboard, and there was no time lost in doing it, either. The mate removed the iron pin which held the gun-carriage to a ring in the deck, and two sailors, with axes in their hands, crept to the waist by the help of the life-lines. They stood there until the schooner made a heavy lurch to starboard, and then in obedience to a sign from the mate, severed the fastenings at a blow. The piece being no longer held in position slid rapidly across the deck, through an opening the waves had made in the bulwarks, and disappeared in the angry waters. That was the last of Long Tom. Frank was sorry to see it go, and hoped that the schooner was now sufficiently lightened. If she was not, the next things to be sacrificed would be the twenty-four pounders, and in case they were thrown overboard, what would they have to defend themselves with if those natives he had seen on the beach should prove to be hostile? Small arms, even though some of them did shoot sixteen times, could not accomplish much against such a multitude.

The vessel being lightened and the water in the wells declared to be at a standstill, Uncle Dick turned his attention to the island and to the long line of breakers before him, which he closely examined through his glass. He must have discovered something that gave him encouragement, for he turned quickly and issued some hasty orders which the boys could not hear. But they could see them obeyed. Another jury-mast was set up, another little piece of canvas given to the wind, and the course of the schooner was changed so that she ran diagonally across the waves, instead of directly before them. She rolled fearfully after this. Wide seams opened in her deck and the water arose so rapidly in the wells that the boys grew more frightened than ever. How much longer they would have succeeded in keeping the vessel afloat under circumstances like these, it is hard to tell; but fortunately the most part of the danger was passed a few minutes afterward. The Stranger dashed through an opening in the breakers and ran into water that seemed as smooth as a millpond compared with the rough sea they had just left. But the Club never forgot the two minutes’ suspense they endured while they were passing the rocks. It was awful! It seemed to them that Uncle Dick was guiding the schooner to certain destruction, and so frightened were they that they ceased their exertions at the pumps. The water arose before them like a solid wall, but it was clear there, while on each side it was broken into foam by the rocks over which it passed. The noise of the waves combined with the noise of the gale was almost deafening, and all on board held their breath when a sudden jar, accompanied by a grating sound, which if once heard can never be forgotten, told them that the schooner had struck! The blow, however, was a very light one, and did no damage. The next moment a friendly wave lifted her over the obstruction and carried her with railroad speed toward the beach. A hearty cheer broke from the tired crew, and Uncle Dick pulled off his hat and drew his hand across his forehead. Then the boys knew that the danger was over.