Adrift in a Boat

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“No fear of that. The monsieurs are brave fellows, though we can lick them, and it is not often they show the white feather,” remarked Harry. “I really think that I am right. They look to me like two frigates, and one I am sure is French. We’ll rouse up the old man, and hear what he has to say about the matter. He’ll not thank us for letting him sleep on.”

“The old man is awake,” said Jefferies, sitting up and gazing in the direction indicated by the boys, under his open hand. For some time he was silent. “Yes, there’s little doubt about the matter,” he said at length. “They are frigates, and one is English; the other is a foreigner, but whether Spaniard, Dutchman, or French, is more than I can say. If they are going to fight, as you think, we can’t help it, neither can we make them sail near enough to see us, and pick us up; but I’ll tell you what we can do, young gentlemen, we can lift up our voices in prayer to God to thank Him for His favours, and to ask Him for His protection.”

All three knelt down, and lifted up their voices to God in prayer, with a heartiness which might be sought for in vain within the lofty walls of many a proud building. Such is the spiritual worship in which God the Spirit alone has pleasure. The party on that wave-tossed raft rose from their knees greatly refreshed in spirit, and sat down to enjoy their morning meal with hearts grateful that they had food sufficient to sustain life. Soon after, the sun rose, as it were with a spring out of his ocean bed, and shed his light across the expanse of waters on the sails of the approaching ships, which seemed to have drawn suddenly near, so clear and defined did their forms become. Harry watched with even greater eagerness than before one of the ships, which he declared was, he believed, that to which he belonged. David was rather inclined to laugh at the notion, as he considered that it was impossible Harry should be able to know his own ship at so great a distance off. There seemed to be no doubt that both were frigates—of that the old man expressed himself sure; that they were not both English he thought very likely. As to the other point, it was, if correct, a guess of Harry’s. They continued to draw nearer and nearer to each other, and as they approached the raft at the same time, the breeze which filled their sails reached her.

“Shall we hoist our sails, and stand for the shore as before?” asked David.

“We should miss the chance of being picked up if we did so,” answered Harry. “Besides, I should not like to run away without knowing after all whether the ships would fight, and who was the conqueror.”

“Not much chance of our getting out of sight before they begin, for they are already not far off gun-shot of each other,” observed the old man, who again raised himself to look out, but sunk down once more to his seat in the centre of the raft.

The two boys, however, stood up, holding on by the mast, in spite of the increasing rocking of the raft, watching eagerly the movements of the two frigates—for frigates there was no doubt they both were.

“Up go the colours!” exclaimed Harry, with a shout. “Hurrah! There’s the glorious old flag of England, and the other is French—there’s no doubt about it. Then there’ll be a fight. Hurrah! I wish I was aboard the old ship; I’m sure it’s her. Couldn’t we manage it even now? Pull the raft up to her. I wish that she would see us and pick us up. Oh dear! how provoking! I’d give anything to be on board!” Such were the exclamations to which the young midshipman gave utterance, as he stood watching the ships. “The old ship has tacked, she is standing away from us! The Frenchman is about also. They’ll be away. We shall not see any of the fighting after all.”

“We shall be less likely to suffer from their shots, and for that we may be grateful,” observed the old man.

The midshipman, so eager was he, scarcely listened to what was said. The frigates were manoeuvring, each endeavouring to gain the weather-gauge before commencing the action, which it was very evident would take place. There appeared to be no lack of a disposition to fight on either side, for they both took in their lighter sails, and finally hauled up their courses. Now the English frigate wore round, her example being followed by the Frenchman, both running back towards the raft, which it seemed that the former would pass by, or even run over, when suddenly she tacked, and standing close to a wind towards the French frigate, fired a broadside into her quarter, while the latter was in stays. The effect of the broadside must have been severe, for it was some time before she actually got about, leaving to the English frigate the advantage of the weather-gauge, which had been the object of all the previous manoeuvres. For some time the two ships ran on alongside of each other, rapidly exchanging shots, without any great apparent damage to the masts or rigging. They were so placed that many of the shots which missed came flying towards the raft, but providentially she was too far off for them to reach her. Once more the after-yards of the French ship being shot away, she kept off the wind, and, followed by her antagonist, stood towards the raft, still keeping up a hot fire at her. In a short time the damage was repaired, and once more the French ship hauling her wind, the two stood on together close-hauled. It was evident, from the rapid way in which the French frigate’s damages had been repaired, that she was well manned, and that the result was by no means so certain as Harry had at first anticipated. The firing had had the effect, it appeared, of lessening the little wind there had previously been. The two frigates, therefore, moved but slowly, and consequently kept within sight of those on the raft. Harry was almost too eager to speak. David now and then made a few remarks. More than an hour had passed away since the commencement of the action, and as yet there was no visible advantage gained by either party. Suddenly Harry gave a cry of anger and annoyance, in which David joined him. The old man looked up. There was cause for it. The flag of England was seen to drop from the masthead of the frigate. Could it be that she had struck? The firing continued as furious as ever. No, it was impossible!