“A shark, a shark!” shouted Jack as he drew near, anxious to warn others of the danger he was himself incurring.
No one needed a second warning, and Jack and Bill were the only ones of the crew left in the water. Several ropes were hove to them, and eager friendly faces looked down on them, and ready hands were stretched out to help them. Jack swam up to a rope, manfully striking out and vehemently splashing the water to the last. Bill with a faint heart followed his example, but the greedy shark was not to be altogether disappointed of his prey. All on board had kept their eyes fixed on that dark fin. Suddenly it disappeared.
“Quick, quick, seize the rope,” they shouted.
Jack had got hold of one, and was hauling himself up. Bill made a grasp at a rope and his hand had clutched it, but ere his fingers had got a firm hold a shriek of agony and despair burst from his lips, and down, down he was dragged, the ensanguined water shewing the cause of his disappearance. There was a cry of horror. It served as the funeral knell of the boaster. As Jack drew himself out of the water, a long snout rose to the surface: it was that of another shark. The white throat of the fierce fish glanced brightly in the sunbeams as he swam off disappointed of his prey. All rejoiced that Jack was saved, and even the captain forgot to lecture him for going so far from the ship, though horror filled the hearts of all as they thought of the fate of Bill Sikes. Why was this? In his health and strength, boaster as he was, Bill was admired by many. Who thought of rebuking him for his impiety? Till his fate was sealed, till God’s threatenings were fulfilled, no one believed the warnings of His Holy Word. So has it been since Noah entered into the ark, so will it be till all things are accomplished.
“This is the second time since I left home that I have seen the scorner meet with a fearful end,” observed Jack, yet he spake in no spirit of self-congratulation. “Oh, mates, whatever you do, put your trust in God, and be assured that He will not fail to guide us for our good if we will but rely on His mercy and kindness.”
The Hope sailed on in the prosecution of her voyage, and the fate of Bill Sikes was soon forgotten. Yet nearly a thousand miles had to be traversed before the Cape of Good Hope could be reached. Hitherto the voyage had been unusually favourable, but a change came quickly over the face of the sky and sea. Dense clouds were gathering from the south, the wind howled fearfully, the surface of the deep was torn up into foam-topped mountains and deep dark valleys of water. Now the brig lay rocking in one, and then, lifted up on high, she seemed to be about to be plunged headlong into another yet deeper than the first, a watery wall threatening to overwhelm her. To make any way on her proper course was impossible, but still sail was kept on her in the hopes that the might thus ride more easily. Jack had been in many a gale, but he had never been in a worse one.
Night came on, sea after sea broke on board. No one expected to see the morning’s sun; the bulwarks were knocked to pieces, so were the boats, with the exception of one: the main-topmast was carried away. The caboose and all spare planks and spars were washed overboard. Thus passed the night, the ship plunging fearfully, and the sea breaking over her. In spite of the just apprehensions of the crew, they saw the morning sun’s bright beams bursting forth from a break in the dark clouds, and tingeing the snow-capped summits of the waves with a golden hue. The gleam came and was gone in a moment, and the storm raged fiercer than before. Now a mountain sea came rolling towards the helpless brig.
“Hold on, hold on,” was the cry. Over it it broke. Jack held on, but the stauncheon he held to was carried away, and he and two of his shipmates were washed overboard into the boiling sea. What hope now for him or them? Those who remained on board with sorrow watched them struggling among the blinding foam; but again the wave rose, struck by an opposing one it seemed, and Jack and one of his companions found themselves cast back with violence on to the deck of their ship. They clutched fast hold of friendly ropes, and the water as it passed away left them clinging to the ship. That heavy sea had done more damage than at first appeared. A leak was sprung. Pale with terror the seamen heard the news.
“How long can she swim? Will she survive the gale?” one asked the other.
“We must labour hard at the pumps; we’ve still one boat uninjured amidships; we may build a raft. Don’t let’s be down-hearted. Let’s trust in God,” said Jack.