I was convinced that the captain said this to be heard by the passengers, and to try and throw discredit on me, as they were already inclined to treat me kindly, through seeing that I was at all events a boy of education; and from the service I had already rendered them in giving them warning of the crew’s design. I was in hopes that the captain would let me have my letter back, but to my dismay he again looked at it and read it. I saw a thunder-cloud gathering on his brow; his lips quivered with rage; I cannot repeat the terms he applied to me.
“And so, you young anatomy, you dare to call me a tyrant and a brute,” he shouted out in a hoarse voice; “to write all sorts of lies of me to your friends at home. You see that yard-arm. Many a fellow has been run up for a less offence. Look out for yourself. If the crew don’t finish you off before the voyage is over, I’ll make you wish you had never set foot on the deck of the ‘Emu.’”
“I wish I never had,” I exclaimed.
“What! You dare speak to me,” roared the captain. “Here, Mr Simmons, take this mutinous young rascal and give him three dozen. We’ll keel-haul him next, if that doesn’t bring him into order.”
Here the passengers interfered. Mr McTavish declared that he would not stand by and let me be unjustly punished.
“If it were not for young Cheveley, where should we be by this time, Captain Longfleet?” he asked. “You know as well as we do what was intended. If your mate attempts to touch him, he must take the consequences.”
The captain was silent for some minutes. Perhaps some sense of what was right overcame his ill-feeling.
“Let him go, Simmons,” he said, turning to the mate. “It’s lucky for you, boy, that this letter was not sent,” he said, looking at me. He tore it up and threw the fragments overboard. “Remember that the next time you write home, I intend to have a look at your letter. You may let your friends know where you are, but you can’t accuse me of carrying you away from home.”
As the captain turned from me, I thought that the best thing I could do was to go forward. I saw two of the men, who had been within earshot while the captain was speaking, eyeing me with no friendly glances. I looked as innocent as I could; but weary though I was, when it was my watch below I was almost afraid lest I should never awake again in this world. When I was forward the men treated me as badly as ever, but I found the conduct of the captain and officers towards me greatly improved, owing to the influence of the passengers. I had frequently to go into the cabin to assist the steward, who, though he often gave me a slight cuff, never did so in the presence of my friends. Knowing that I had those on board interested in me, I bore my sufferings and annoyances with more equanimity than before. I one day, unknown to Captain Longfleet, had the opportunity of giving my father’s address to Mr McTavish. He promised to write home from the first place at which we touched. It would be useless for me to attempt writing, as my letter would, I knew, be seen and taken from me. This was some comfort. I can but briefly relate the incidents of the voyage.
While still to the southward of Cape Horn, the appearances of another heavy storm came on. The lighter canvas was instantly handed. Almost in an instant a heavy sea got up, into which the ship violently pitched as she forced her way ahead. The flying jib having been carelessly secured, the gaskets, or small ropes which bound it to the jibboom, gave way. Two hands were immediately sent out to make it fast. While they were thus employed, a tremendous sea struck the bows. One of the men, old Growles, scrambled on to the bowsprit, to which he held on like grim death, but before the other man could follow his example, the jibboom was carried away and he with it. I saw the poor fellow struggling amid the foaming seas. The captain did not on this occasion refuse to try to save him. The ship was hove-to, and pieces of timber, an empty cask, and a hen-coop, were hove overboard to give him the chance of escaping. He failed to reach any of them. Mr McTavish and two of the men and I were on the point of jumping into the jolly-boat to go to his rescue, but the captain shouted out in no gentle terms, ordering us to desist, and asked us if we wished to lose our lives also. This, if we had made the attempt, we should certainly have done. The boat could not have lived many moments in such a sea. For fully ten minutes the poor fellow was observed buffeting with the waves, but he at length disappeared. The ship was kept away, and we stood on our course. We soon afterwards perceived the snow-capped mountains of Tierra del Fuego rearing their majestic heads, and looking down on the raging waters below them.