The gale subsided, the sea went down, and the boat was steered a direct course to the westward. Still she made slow progress. A sail had been secured, but it was a small one for the light wind then blowing, and their strength was too much exhausted to enable them to urge her on much faster by pulling. Day after day their provisions decreased, and they grew weaker and weaker. Still no one had hitherto suffered in health. Some showers which fell enabled them to replenish their stock of water. Who can tell the value of that pure liquid to those living under the burning sun of the tropics! They knew it well. Though they had water for the present, their provisions they were aware must soon fail them.
They bethought them of trying to catch fish. Lines they could easily manufacture out of the ropes in the boat, but hooks cost them much thought. At last a file was found in a pocket knife, and some nails were drawn from a piece of plank hove carelessly into the boat. Scarcely had the baits been thrown overboard than a tug was felt and a fine fish was hauled up. Several were thus caught. They were dried in the sun and served them for many a meal. Days passed and none were caught, then again they fell in with a shoal and many were hauled up. The spirits of the crew rose, they no longer doubted that they should reach their destination. Still they did not relax in their efforts to procure food or to reach land. Their strength, however, gradually decreased, and very slow was the progress they made or could hope to make even if the weather continued favourable.
What is more uncertain than the wide ocean? While they were congratulating themselves on their prospects, dark clouds were seen to rise in the west, heavy seas increasing in height came rolling towards them, and once more a heavy gale blew in their teeth. They could no longer carry sail, and all the strength they could exert was scarcely sufficient to enable them to keep the boat head to sea. “Then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them out of their distress.” So will He always do to those who trust in Him. Let that belief never depart from any who read this story. Cling to it, rejoice in it. Let nothing tear it from you. Satan will strive to do so, the world will try to do so. Jack and his companions found in it their only support. Without it they must have sunk under the sufferings they had to endure. Even though their boat swam they could no longer replenish their scanty stock of food; they had scarcely any water; their strength almost failed them; black clouds were overhead, dark threatening walls of water encompassed them around. Still hand and eye, and nerve and muscle must be exerted to keep the boat from swamping.
The fourth night of the gale was approaching when, as the captain was standing up supported by his crew to take a glance round the horizon as the boat rose to the summit of a sea, his eye fell on the dark sail of a ship seen under the sinking sun. She must, they knew, be approaching them; but might she not too probably pass by them in the dark? How their hearts beat with alternate hopes and fears. On she came, flying before the gale. They stood up, they waved, some shouted. Now, on the top of a foaming wave, they could see her; now, sunk into the trough, they lost fight of her altogether. Did she see them? Earnestly they prayed to heaven that she might. God is ever merciful to those who call upon him faithfully. On she came.
“We are seen, we are seen!” they shouted. They knew her to be a British sloop of war. The courses were brailed up, the topsails closely reefed, and she was brought to the wind, so that they might pull up under her lee. Renewed strength for the operation was given them, and every help being afforded from the ship, they were soon in safety on her deck. Scarcely had they gained it ere they sank down through weakness, but many sank on their knees to return thanks to Him whose right arm had saved them.
Jack found several old messmates from the Tribune, who had been turned over from her to the Flora, the ship which had saved him. So firmly had they been convinced that he had been lost, that they could at first scarcely believe him when he told them who he was. He at once entered gladly on board, and the rest of the brig’s crew were not slow to follow his example. Many a gallant action was the Flora engaged in before the close of the war. Long, indeed, was it, as Jack had anticipated, before he again saw his native land.
The Flora was in company with several other ships of war, when it was resolved to endeavour to cut out a number of privateers and merchantmen, known to be at anchor in one of the ports of the enemy guarded by a battery. The boats of the squadron were sent in to effect this object. In silence and darkness, with muffled oars they approached the shore. Jack was in one of the leading boats. The armed vessels were to be first attacked, and as the wind blew off shore it was hoped that they might be carried out in spite of the fire from the fort. The tracery of the masts and spars and rigging of the vessels could be seen rising up against the sky, the dim outline of the dark frowning forts, and the rocks and hills on the opposite side of the harbour, with here and there a faint light glimmering from some lone cottage on the hill side. Their approach was unsuspected, nor did watchful sentry challenge them as they entered the harbour. Two boats attacked each vessel. Silently they ran alongside, and were on board in a moment. Then the enemy’s crews sprang to their arms and defended themselves with desperation, but of their officers some were on shore, others below, and British valour quickly silencing all opposition, the deck was won. Lustily the English seamen cheered, for there was no necessity for further concealment; the cables were cut, the sails let fall, and the prize, a fine sloop of sixteen guns was moving through the water, when those on board felt her tremble through every timber.
“To the boats, to the boats,” shouted the officers.
The men sprang over the bulwarks. Up lifted her deck. It seemed by some mighty force to be wrenched open. High into the air were thrown many of the late combatants together. A loud thundering noise was heard. Flashes of flame burst forth and ascended in a fiery spout towards the sky, widening as it rose, carrying with it spars and sails, and pieces of timber and human forms, mangled, burnt, and torn asunder, and groans, and shrieks, and cries filled the air. Jack felt himself lifted up just as he was leaping overboard. He threw himself forward. He seemed as if he was carried up amid the burning fragments, and then, his clothes already on fire, he was plunged into the water. Down he sank. His impulse was to strike out, and on rising to the surface he looked around and made towards the nearest boat, on whose side the ruddy glare of the fire shone brightly. Several of his shipmates were in her, and a few of the enemy whom they had picked up. They hauled him on board as they went to search for more of their companions. When no others were to be found they dashed alongside another of the enemy’s vessels. Meantime the fort had opened its fire. Notwithstanding this several vessels were carried out, though few escaped without some shot in hull or rigging, Jack got a wound in his arm.
“Bind it up tight,” said he to a shipmate, “I want the use of it just now.”