As they drew nearer in this way, every doubt was removed, if there had been any doubts in the mind of either. The ship was evidently deserted. She was also as evidently waterlogged. Now they were able to account for what had puzzled them before; her lying so low in the water, and yet at the same time seeming so near. Her nearness was not apparent, but real; her lowness in the water actual, and not seeming. That she had been deserted by her crew was more and more evident every moment, for as they drew nearer, they could see not a sign of life. Had there been any one on board, he would certainly have made himself visible.
At length Bruce bawled out, “Ship, ahoy!”
Bart stopped rowing and looked around. Both boys listened. They did not expect any answer, nor did any answer come. They waited for about a minute, and then Bart rowed on. In about two minutes they were alongside. The oars were thrown in, the boat secured, and the two boys stepped aboard.
There was a mixture of attraction and repulsion in the first sight of the ship, which affected the boys very peculiarly. She lay waterlogged. Her decks were on a level with the sea. But her bulwarks rose six feet high above the water, and the deck itself afforded a spacious area on which to walk. The deck was white with the washing of many waters, and dry in the warm sun, which had shone upon it for some days past. All the boats were gone except one, which hung at the starboard davits, and looked like the captain’s gig. The cook’s galley stood amidships, and astern there was a quarter-deck. The cabin doors were open wide. The forecastle was also open. The main hatchway was open, and the boys, looking in, could see the cargo. It consisted of enormous pine logs.
The sight of this cargo explained all. This was a timber ship, no doubt, from Quebec, which had encountered a storm in the gulf, and sprung aleak. On becoming waterlogged, she had been deserted and left to her fate; yet her cargo, which was of wood, prevented her from sinking, and the huge sticks of timber served to give her stiffness as well as buoyancy, and preserve her from breaking up. To Bart a timber ship was the most familiar thing in the world, for he had been brought up in a timber port; his father sailed timber ships, and the whole situation was one which he perfectly understood at the very first glance.
The boys walked about the decks. To their delight, they saw several water casks lashed behind the mainmast, and a row of barrels that looked as if they contained provisions, for they all bore the eloquent inscription:—