There was no time for any one to be idle on board the brig. She had received a tremendous shaking in the hurricane, and was leaking considerably. It was a wonder, indeed, that she had not gone down. To have a chance of safety, jury-masts must be got up before another breeze should come on, or she might be driven on the reefs and lost.
Jack, having searched the cabin, brought all the papers he could find to Mr Collinson. By this he discovered that the brig was the Beatrix, bound from New Orleans to Point à Petre in Dominique.
“Poor fellows! Some probably died from the yellow fever before the hurricane came on, and the rest, unable to shorten sail in time, must have been washed overboard when the masts were carried away, as the wind struck her,” observed Mr Collinson. “Pray Heaven that we may be preserved; but I will not deceive you, lads; it will require all your courage and resolution to carry the vessel safely into port. We have a long passage before us, and I will do my best to navigate her, but I can do little more.”
“And we will do our best, Mr Collinson, to obey your orders,” answered Jack Windy.
“Then, Jack, the first thing will be to get hold of a quadrant and chart, and navigation books. Without these it will be very guess-work. Fortunately, I understand the French; so that, if they are found, there will not be much difficulty in the matter.”
As soon as Bill heard this, he hurried below, and soon returned with several books, a chart, and a quadrant.
“The first thing is to know whereabouts we are,” said the lieutenant; “and, as it must be nearly noon, I will take an observation at once. You must lift me up, though, lads; I am too weak to stand.”
Supported by Jack and Bill Sunnyside, the lieutenant leant against the companion-hatch, and made the required observation.
“I was only just in time, though,” he remarked. “The sun dipped not two minutes after I got a sight of him through the instrument. There,” he said, pointing to a spot on the chart, “is where, by my calculations, we now are. If you steer south-west, you will make Cape Saint Antonio, at the westernmost end of Cuba; but look out for the Colorados, and do not run the ship upon them. I tell you this, should anything happen to me.”
“But we hope, sir, nothing will happen to you,” said Jack, “and that you will live to carry in the brig to Port Royal, before many weeks are over.”