Ran Away to Sea

by Mayne Reid

On arriving upon the poop, I saw that there were five or six persons there, engaged in launching the gig. They were working with all their might, and apparently hurried by some extreme apprehension of terror. Three of them I recognised as the captain, mate, and carpenter, and the others were men noted as their allies and firm friends. They had already lowered the boat nearly to the water; and just as I looked over the taffrail I heard the plash, as her keel dipped into the sea. I saw that there were some articles—the compass, with charts, and a few other things like boxes or barrels—already lying in the boat; but as yet none of the men had got into her.

On glancing at those who were around, I perceived that my friend was not among them; and I was turning to go back towards the main-deck, when all at once the six men who had lowered the gig—I now saw there were but six—passed suddenly over the taffrail, and gliding down the davit-tackle, dropped into the boat.

Surely, thought I, they are not going to row off without their full complement of twelve? That was the understanding, and it was further agreed that all hands should help in lowering the long-boat before the gig should be launched; the latter, being small and light, could be got into the water in a few seconds of time, and half-a-dozen men would be enough; whereas, launching the great long-boat, getting her over the bulwarks, and then lowering her safely into the sea, was a work that required both time and the help of all hands.

That all were to assist in it had been specially arranged, in the hurried consultation which had been held after the cry had arisen, “To the boats!”

No doubt that those now engaged about the long-boat supposed that all hands were there; for in a crowd of forty men the absence of five or six is not readily noticed, and, as it was no longer daylight, the faces of none could be easily distinguished. The mate and captain would not have been missed more than any others. Their authority existed no longer, and their silly behaviour in belabouring the cook, when they should have been using the time to better advantage by endeavouring to stifle the fire, had led to the belief that both were “half-seas over,” and, therefore, no attention had been afterwards paid to any orders from either of them.

It was they and the four men with them I had observed passing abaft as I was looking for Ben, and I thought at the time that they were skulking, as if they did not wish to be seen!

As I stood upon the poop, this conjecture was confirmed. The six were evidently about to steal the gig away, without waiting for the others she was to have carried.

I was irresolute how to act. I could not myself prevent them. Remonstrance from me would have been laughed at, and I had not the strength to stay them. To call out would have been of no use. The sound of the fire roaring and crackling below, the hoarse shouting of the men themselves, the yells and vociferations of the slaves forward, produced a medley of noises amidst which my cries would not have been heard, or, at all events, their object would not have been understood.

Another thing—it was too late to create any noise about it; for before I could make up my mind to do one thing or the other—either to cry out or run back—the gig was resting on the water, the six runaways had dropped into her, and the next moment had cut the davit-tackle and set the boat free!

They appeared to act with extreme haste—as if they apprehended being hindered from getting off, or were afraid that more would come up and leap in along with them so as to overload the boat.