“Birds of a feather flock together,” muttered Ashurst, as he turned away.
Langton heard the remark, but took no notice of it. Owen had again a good deal to endure from Ashurst, and his temper was sorely tried. Often a retort rose to his lips, though he refrained from uttering it. A month or more went by. The two frigates had come round to the northern end of Celebes.
Captain Stanhope sent the “Venus” on to Batavia, while the “Sylvia” stood in for the port of Gorontello in the Bay of Tomonie, which place had been taken from the Dutch, and which was governed by a native prince who had declared his attachment to the British Government. Captain Stanhope’s object was to communicate with the sultan, and to present him with some presents in order to retain his friendship. The frigate, however, had got within eight or ten miles from the port when it came on a perfect calm. Bringing the ship to an anchor the captain resolved to go on shore in the pinnace. He took with him Langton, Ashurst, and Owen, as also the purser, who went to purchase fresh provisions.
A small party of marines accompanied him to act as a guard of honour. The frigate being to the southward of the port, the boat after a long pull reached Gorontello. The visit to the sultan was paid, and passed off satisfactorily, although the ceremonies occupied a longer time than the captain had expected. The purser had purchased his stores, and got them on board. Some other delays occurred, so that it was late before the boat started to return to the frigate. A light wind was, however, blowing; sometimes it came from the northward and at others from off the land.
“If this wind holds we shall get down to the frigate in little more than an hour,” observed Captain Stanhope to Langton.
Darkness in those latitudes, as is well-known, comes on very rapidly. The sun had set, the boat was carrying all sail, when the wind came off the land, from which she was then about two miles distant. Whether the coxswain had indulged in a glass of arrack on shore, or from some other cause, neither he nor any one else was keeping an eye to windward, as should have been done. Suddenly a squall struck the boat, and before the helm could be put down, or a sheet let go, over she heeled, and being already heavily laden with the fresh provisions, the water rushed in on the lee side, and she capsized. Providentially most of the provisions fell out of her, and her ballast consisting of water casks, instead of sinking, she floated keel upwards. The officers had previously taken off their swords, the marines let go their muskets, and nearly all hands, disentangling themselves from the rigging, got hold of the boat.
The captain, setting the example, climbed up on the keel, calling on his men to follow. All who could, did so. Two unfortunate marines, however, encumbered with their accoutrements, had remained under her. Their cries for help were almost immediately stifled. Owen found himself seated next to Langton.
“Help! help!” cried a voice close astern. “I cannot swim, and am sinking.”
“It is Ashurst,” exclaimed Owen; “come and help him.”
Owen and Langton immediately slipped into the water, and striking out quickly got up to where Ashurst was struggling.