“We must put the boat about, and run before it,” said Mr Trevett. “Hoist the lug—haul aft the sheet!” It was done, and away we flew, careering over the fast-rising seas through the pitchy darkness of night!
“Where are we going to?” was the question. Still no other course remained for us to follow. To attempt to head the heavy seas now rising was impossible. No one spoke—a fear of coming evil settled down on our hearts. Darker and darker grew the night—the clouds seemed to come down from the sky and settle close over our heads, meeting the troubled wildly-leaping waves.
On we flew—the seas, as they curled and hissed up alongside of us, tumbling over the gunwale, and making it necessary for all hands to continue baling. Our only hope was that the ship might run before the gale and overtake us; but then we remembered that she probably had a whale alongside, and that the captain would not like to desert it as long as he could hold on. All hope, therefore, of help from man deserted us.
On we went—death every instant threatening us—a death amid that dark, wild, troubled, storm-tossed ocean! At length the fierce roar of the wind and sea seemed to increase. We looked out before us into the darkness. “Breakers!—breakers ahead!” we shouted. A thrill of horror ran through our veins. In another moment we should be dashed to a thousand fragments among the wild rocks over which they so fiercely broke. To attempt to haul off in such a sea would have consigned us to an equally certain fate. The imminence of the danger seemed to sharpen our vision. A mass of foam, which seemed to leap high up into the dark sky, lay before us. Not a moment could a boat live attempting to pass through it. On both sides we turned our anxious gaze, to discover if any spot existed where the sea broke with less violence. Almost simultaneously we shouted, “A passage on the starboard-bow!”
There appeared, if our eyes deceived us not, a dark space where the line of huge breakers was divided. We were rushing headlong to destruction. Not an instant was to be lost. The helm was put to port. We rose on the crest of a vast rolling sea. Down it came, thundering on the rocks on either side of us, throwing over them heavy showers of spray, sufficient almost to swamp us. Still we floated unharmed. The sea rolled on between what, in the darkness, appeared like walls of foam, and in another instant we found ourselves floating beyond the fierce turmoil of waters, just tossed gently by the waves, which found their way over the reef into a large lagoon within it!
A shore fringed with trees lay before us. In five minutes we were landed safely on it, and the boat was secured to the stump of a fallen tree. It was too dark to allow us to attempt to penetrate into the interior, to ascertain the sort of place on which we had been thrown; so, returning to the boat and baling her out, we wrung our wet clothes and lay down to seek that rest we all, after our violent exertions and anxiety, so much needed.
It must have been nearly daylight when we went to sleep. I know not how long we had slept. It would have been better for us had we driven sleep far from our eyelids, and been ready to pull out and wander over the inhospitable ocean the moment the gale abated, rather than have remained where we were. I was the first to open my eyes, and, looking up, I saw to my horror a nearly naked savage looking down into the boat with prying eyes from the bank above us. He was almost jet-black, with negro features and a full beard and moustache. His hair was frizzled out to a great size and covered by a brownish turban. Round his waist he wore the usual maro or kilt, with something like a shawl or plaid over his shoulders; and in his hand he held a long formidable-looking spear. From the turban on his head, I afterwards discovered that he was a chief.
“Eugh! eugh!” he cried, as he saw me opening my eyes to look at him, and his menacing attitude and ferocious aspect made a most uncomfortable feeling creep over me.
“Up, lads, up! and shove off!” I shouted to my companions, jumping forward myself to cut the painter. They started to their feet at my summons, looking up with a bewildered stare at the shore; and well they might so have done, for there stood some twenty or more fierce-looking savages, whom the exclamation of their chief had called to his side, and before we could get the oars out, a shower of spears came rattling down among us. Poor Mr Trevett was pierced through, and fell with a deep groan to the bottom of the boat; another of my companions sprung up as he was struck, and went headlong overboard; others were badly wounded; and one man only besides me was unhurt by the first shower of missiles. Seeing that we still persevered in trying to get the boat off, the savages came rushing down the bank; and though I had cut the painter, before I could give the boat sufficient impetus to get out of their way, they had seized the gunwale and hauled her up on the beach.
All hope of escape was now at an end. We were each of us seized by three or four of the savages, while, by the chief’s directions, two others plunged into the water, and soon returned with the body of the man who had fallen overboard. To my horror, our poor wounded companions were instantly stabbed by these wretches, apparently for no other reason than because they offered some resistance to being dragged roughly along; and thus Brian and I were the only two who remained alive of those who had so lately escaped from the stormy ocean. Some of the savages, I saw, were left to take care of the boat in which the bodies of those who had been killed were placed.