“About a matter of nine miles, I should say. I suppose you’ll be taking a look at her, sir?”
“Most certainly,” said I. “We will stand on for a quarter of an hour or so, when we will go about, if you think we should then be able to fetch her. Meanwhile, we may as well run our ensign up to the peak, to let the people on board—if there are any—know that we have seen them.”
“Yes, sir,” assented Roberts; “I should think that in that time we ought to have head-reached far enough to fetch her. Shall we get a small drag at the topsail halliards? She will bear another inch or two.”
“Very well,” I agreed; and away trundled the sympathetic Roberts forward to muster the hands.
The extra “inch or two” of topsail that he proposed to give her resolved itself into a liberal two feet of hoist; under which augmented canvas the barque bounded from sea to sea like a mad thing, completely burying her lee rail with every roll, and causing the gale to fairly howl through her rigging when she recovered herself; while a whole acre of dazzling snow-white foam hissed and stormed and roared out from under her lee bow, and glanced past the side at what looked like railway speed when she stooped to it under the influence of wind and wave together; the spray meanwhile flying over the weather cat-head in such a perfect deluge that the whole fore deck was knee-deep in water, while the foresail was drenched halfway up to the yard, and even the weather clew of the mainsail came in for a liberal share. To leeward the shrouds sagged limp and loose at every roll of the ship, while to windward they were as taut as bars; and it was by no means without apprehension that I contemplated the possibility of a lanyard parting, or a bolt drawing under the tremendous strain to which they were subjected. Truly we were driving the little ship in a most reckless fashion; and, but for the presence of that mysterious object to windward—which was undoubtedly the hull of a ship, to which possibly a helpless crew were clinging in deadly peril—I would have shortened sail forthwith. But, for aught we knew, the question of rescue or no rescue might be a matter of minutes, or even of seconds, with the distressed ones; we therefore “carried on,” and took our chance of everything bearing the strain.
At the expiration of the allotted half-hour the hands were called, and, taking the wheel myself and watching for a “smooth,” we proceeded to ’bout ship. This manoeuvre was successfully accomplished, though by no means without danger, the ship, while head to wind, taking a green sea over the bows that literally filled her decks fore and aft, washing some of the men off their feet and compelling everybody to cling for life to whatever they could lay hold of until the open ports partially freed her. Strange to say, beyond the flooding of the forecastle, the deck-house, and the galley, no damage was done; and, the next sea that met us happening to be a moderate one, the nimble little craft was round and away upon the other tack before another could come on board us. Once round and fairly on the move again, upon being relieved at the wheel I took the telescope and myself ascended to the foretop upon a visit of inspection. Yes; there the object was, sure enough, about three points on the lee bow, and, as the mate had said, about nine miles distant. I tried to get a peep at her through the telescope; but, even at the moderate elevation of the foretop, the plunging and rolling motion of the ship was so wild that I found it most difficult. I managed, however, to catch an occasional momentary glimpse of her; and from what I then saw I came to the conclusion that she was a dismasted craft, of some five hundred tons or so, floating very deep in the water, with the sea breaking heavily and constantly over her, and that there was a flag of some sort flying from the stump of the mizzenmast—no doubt a signal of distress. She seemed to be a craft with a full poop, the after-part of her standing somewhat higher out of the water than the rest of the hull; and once or twice I caught a glimpse of what had the appearance of a small group of people clinging about the stump of the mizzenmast. More than that I could not just then make out, owing—as I have said—to the exasperatingly wild motion aloft; but I had at least ascertained the important fact that, with careful attention to the helm, we should fetch her on our present tack; and with that I was compelled to be for the nonce satisfied.
We were evidently nearing her very fast, much faster than I had dared to hope, for upon my return to the deck after my somewhat protracted investigation I found that we had risen her from the deck, and all hands were intently watching for a glimpse of her every time that we rose to the crest of a sea, notwithstanding the deluges of spray that flew incessantly in over our weather-bow. My passengers were of course intensely excited and interested and sympathetic at the idea of a real genuine wreck and the possibility of a rescue, even Lady Emily seeming to have utterly forgotten her ailments in her anxiety to see as much as possible. To their credit, however, be it said, they were considerate enough to abstain from tormenting me with ridiculous questions, evidently realising that I had at that moment more important matters occupying my thoughts.
And truly I had; for there was the question of how the people, if any, were to be taken off the wreck. For it must not be forgotten that, hard as we were driving the ship, it was still blowing with the force of quite a strong gale; while the sea was so tremendously heavy that, though a boat, moderately loaded, could undoubtedly live in it if once fairly launched, the task of safely launching her and getting her away from the ship in such weather, and, still more, in getting her alongside, either to ship or to unship people, presented so many difficulties as almost to amount to an impossibility. Fortunately, our boats were all fitted with a most excellent pattern of patent releasing tackle, but for which I should not have felt justified in risking the lives of my men by asking them to undertake such a desperate task. As to the possibility of the wreck being able to lower a boat, the thought presented itself only to be instantly dismissed; for, with the sea breaking so heavily over her as I had seen, it was to the last degree improbable that any of her boats had so far escaped damage as to be capable of floating, even had they escaped total destruction. True, there was a bare possibility that the strait of those on the wreck might not be quite so desperate as it had appeared to me to be—in which case we could stand by them until the weather moderated sufficiently to render the operation of launching a boat a comparatively safe one—but I was very doubtful of this. The wreck had presented all the appearance of being either waterlogged, or absolutely in a sinking condition; and in either case there would be but little time to lose; for, even if the craft were only waterlogged, her people were constantly exposed to the danger of being washed overboard. These points, however, would soon be made plain, for we were rapidly approaching the wreck; and the time had arrived for us to commence our preparations.
Mr Roberts, meanwhile, had been forward, talking to the men; and presently he came aft again to the poop, wearing a very gratified expression of countenance.
“They are a downright good lot—those lads of ours, for’ard,” he began, as he ranged up alongside of me in the wake of the mizzen-rigging. “I’ve just been on the fo’c’s’le to find out what their ideas are about manning a boat; and I’d hardly had a chance to mention the matter when every man Jack of ’em gave me to understand that they were ready to do anything you choose to ask ’em, and that I’d only to say who I’d have to go in the boat with me. So I’ve picked Joe Murray and Tom Spearman, Little Dick, and Hairy Bill—as they call him in the fo’c’s’le; and if you’re agreeable, sir, I’ll take the whaleboat gig; she’s as light as a cork, and far and away the prettiest boat for a sea like this. The other gig would hold a man or two more, perhaps, but she’s a much heavier boat; and those flat-starned craft are not half so safe as a double-ended boat when it comes to running before such a sea as this.”