On the Raft.
We must now go back to a solitary raft which bore Captain Everard, Harry Tryon, and Jacob Tuttle tossing on the bosom of the wide Atlantic. The sea, after the foundering of the frigate, had gone down, and several casks had floated, which had been secured by the occupants of the raft. One contained bread, another meat, and a third, more valuable still, water. By these means there seemed a prospect that those on the raft might preserve their lives. Still, as day after day passed by, and their provisions decreased, the fate from which they had at one time expected to escape, again appeared to approach them.
Eagerly they strained their eyes, in the hope of seeing a sail, but the sun rose and the sun went down again and still they floated all lonely on the ocean. The last drop of water was expended, not a particle of food remained. They knew that a few days might probably end their existence. Harry Tryon kept up his spirits, and endeavoured to sustain those of Captain Everard, who felt acutely the loss of his ship. Harry, however, had not made himself known to him, while Jacob Tuttle always addressed him by the name of Brown. One of their number was sinking fast, another poor fellow had become delirious. It seemed too likely that they would drop off one by one till none remained upon the raft. Again the weather became threatening. A dense mist lay over the water. Few of those on the raft expected to see another daybreak. At length, however, the dawn appeared, but still the mist surrounded them. Suddenly it broke, and the bright sun burst forth and shed his rays on the white canvas of a vessel close to them. They shouted and waved. Their voices could not have been heard, but they were seen. The vessel bore down upon them, and in a few minutes they were hoisted safely on board.
The vessel was from the Saint Lawrence, homeward bound. They were treated with kindness. The weather was fine. For many days they made good progress. They were expecting in the course of another day to sight the Irish coast. A gale sprung up. They were driven off the coast. The brig was dismasted, and lay helpless on the tossing ocean. Just when about to get up jury masts, a strange sail hove in sight. She was a French privateer, and the battered vessel became her prize. The officers of the merchantman, with Captain Everard and part of the English crew, were taken on board the privateer; but several men, among whom were Jacob Tuttle and Harry, were left on board the brig to assist the prize-master in navigating her into port. Fortunately, however, on her voyage the prize was separated from the privateer, and was recaptured by a British man-of-war, to whose decks Harry and Tuttle, with several other able-bodied seamen, were transferred, while the prize was sent into Falmouth.
Harry soon discovered that all ships in the British navy were not alike, and he and Tuttle often wished themselves on board the “Brilliant,” under the command of Captain Everard.
Chapter Nineteen.
The Mutiny at the Nore, and how the Hero became implicated in it.
Once more Harry gazed on the coast of England. He felt an earnest longing to go on shore and see Mabel. He wished to tell her that her father had escaped death, and that, although a prisoner, he might soon return home. The “Latona,” the frigate on board which Harry found himself, sailed swiftly up the Channel, and rounding the Isle of Wight, came to an anchor at Spithead. A large fleet lay there, under the command of Lord Bridport. Harry, with several others, asked leave to go on shore. He was sternly refused. The captain of the frigate was one of those men who seemed to take delight in tyrannising over their crews and in making them miserable. No, not although Harry pleaded his shipwreck and the suffering he had gone through. The captain turned a deaf ear to his entreaties. Several ships’ companies had similar causes of complaint.