This danger was, of course, greatly increased when the men began to move inward toward the hull, thus more fully exposing themselves to the fury of every surge that swept over it. And of this fact we soon had a most painful and melancholy illustration; for as the group, after waiting for two or three minutes for a favourable opportunity, essayed to scramble out of the rigging, and make their way aft along the brig’s upturned side to her quarter—where they would be clear of the gear and rigging when they took to the water—a small and comparatively innocuous sea broke over the hull, which, harmless as it was compared with most of its predecessors, had still enough of weight and spite in it to sweep one of the poor fellows from his precarious foothold into the seething, hissing swirl to leeward. The man tossed his arms over his head, with a wild shriek for help, as the smother carried him along in its suffocating embrace, and Joe promptly made a spring for a spare life-buoy that we had provided for such an emergency; but before it could be thrown the unfortunate wretch was hurled over the brig’s mainyard as it lifted out of the water, and the next instant he disappeared beneath the foot of the main-topsail, the wide spaces of which immediately shut down upon and buried him as the roll of the hull once more submerged her spars. We never saw the poor fellow again, and there is no doubt that, caught and entangled beneath the cloths of the topsail, he was drowned there.
Meanwhile, we were drifting rapidly away to leeward, and the full length of our warps was almost paid out; it was therefore imperative that the men on the wreck should act quickly. I shouted to them to this effect, and, awaking from the momentary stupefaction produced by the painfully sudden loss of their comrade, the remaining eight men made a dash for the brig’s quarter, and succeeded in reaching it just as the vessel was uphove upon the crest of another tremendous sea. We saw them slip the string of life-buoys over their heads, and the next instant they were buried in the vast volume of water that broke, roaring and hissing, over the fabric that they stood upon. To our anxious minds it seemed an endless time before they reappeared; but at length we saw the string of life-buoys floating in the midst of the lacework of foam, some ten fathoms to leeward of the wreck, well clear of the heaving spars and snake-like coils of loose and unrove gear, eight out of the nine buoys having each a man in it.
“Hurrah!” I shouted, swinging myself on deck out of the rigging. “We have them! Haul away gently upon the line, and let us get them alongside.”
As I spoke I saw that San Domingo was laying in from the jib-boom end, he having, like myself, seen that we had got hold of the men; and presently he ranged up alongside me and, following my example, industriously set to work to throw the coils of braces, halliards, clewlines, and so on off the pins, and bend the ends of them into bowlines in readiness for hauling the rescued men up the side.
The task of getting the poor fellows safely inboard was soon accomplished, when, administering to each man a pannikin of scalding hot coffee that had meanwhile been prepared in the galley, I sent them below into the forecastle with instructions to strip, rub each other well down, and turn in until a good meal could be prepared for them; when, the rescued crew being thus temporarily disposed of, we filled upon the ship and resumed our voyage.
A good substantial meal of beef, potatoes, and ship’s bread, backed up with a few hours’ sleep, and a shift into dry clothes, sufficed to set the rescued men upon their pins again, little or nothing the worse for the hardship and exposure they had so recently undergone; and that same evening I obtained from the mate of the brig, a man named Cooper, the particulars of their adventure.
From this man’s story it appeared that the brig, a vessel of one hundred and seventy-four tons register, named the Golden Gate, hailed from San Francisco, from which port she had sailed in search of a cargo of sandal-wood. The quest had been successful, a full cargo had been obtained, and all had gone well with the craft up to the afternoon of the preceding day, when her crew, like us, had found themselves becalmed. Unlike myself, however, the skipper of the Golden Gate—who proved to be the man who had unfortunately been swept away and lost during the process of rescue—had obstinately refused to believe that the threatening aspect of the weather meant anything worse than a sharp thunderstorm, and had declined to accede to the suggestion of his mate that sail should be shortened, averring that all the wind they were likely to get they would need to help them out of the region of the equatorial calms. The result had been that when the hurricane burst upon them the ship was hove over upon her beam-ends, with her sails flat upon the water, in which position she had gradually filled, her cargo only preventing the waterlogged hull from sinking under the feet of her crew. Fortunately for all hands, they had entertained sufficiently serious doubts of their skipper’s judgment to determine them to remain on deck and see the matter out; hence, when the brig went over, they were in a measure prepared for the catastrophe, and lost no time in clambering on to the vessel’s upturned side. From this position the sea, breaking heavily over the hull, soon drove them into the rigging, where they had remained, constantly drenched with spray and frequently submerged beneath the vast volumes of water that poured over the wreck, until rescued by us.
In exchange for his story I briefly informed the rescued mate that I had sailed from Sydney, in ballast, for the Canton river, intending to cut a cargo of sandal-wood on the way; but that the bulk of my crew, a gang of desperadoes from the gold-diggings, had frustrated my purpose by attempting to take my ship away from me, and that I had therefore been compelled to leave them on an island; and further, that when I sighted the Golden Gate, we were on our way to the Sandwich Islands, hoping to there obtain men enough to navigate the barque to China. I said that, if he and his men wished it, I would still go on to Honolulu, and land them there, from whence they would doubtless soon find an opportunity to return to San Francisco; or, if they preferred it, I would ship them all, at the current rate of wages, for the voyage to China, and, if they gave me satisfaction, thence home to England. He said he would lay my offer before the men, and acquaint me with their decision forthwith; and at once retired to the forecastle. Whereupon I at once called Joe and San Domingo to me, and laid the strictest injunctions upon them both that under no circumstances whatever were they to make the slightest allusion to the treasure in the hold; hinting pretty strongly that, if they did, their own share of it would probably fall very far short of what it would be should the secret be well kept. The caution I believed to be quite needless, so far as Joe was concerned; but its necessity, as regarded the negro, was made quite apparent by his remark when I had finished speaking—
“Golly, sar; it just as well you tole me dat in time, odderwise I dead sure to hab said someting about it de fust time I had a chance. But now dat you has warned me, sar, you may depend abs’lutely upon my discresshun. I wants all de dollars I can git; and I doan’ feel inclined to share dem wid men dat has had no hand in de saving of dem.”
The mate soon returned to the deck with the decision of his crew. He informed me that the men were quite unanimous in their desire to leave the ship at Honolulu, and make the best of their way back to San Francisco with as little delay as possible, if such an arrangement would accord with my convenience; but that, in the mean time, they would gladly turn to and assist me to work the ship so far, without pay, in acknowledgment of my having saved their lives.