The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The hopes of all on board, at this chance of escape, were raised high, only to be as quickly and grievously disappointed; for at the same instant, the blast which had struck them cleared away the fog, and discovered a large Russian corvette, at some distance fortunately, and heeling over on her beam ends to the violence of the squall, it having caught her it appeared unawares, her people being busily employed in taking in her more lofty sails.

It was a moment of deep suspense to all on board the Turkish vessel; but a cry of despair arose from her crew, as they saw with their glasses the crew of the corvette descending from her rigging, the sails yet unfurled, the yards being squared as her head came quickly round in the direction they were sailing. Onward she proudly came, ploughing with her bow the now fast rising sea, all her sails swelling, as if they would burst from the ropes which confined them. It seemed that no power could stop her course, as throwing the foaming waters aside, she spurned the waves on which she rode.

Many a cheek on board the Turk was blanched with anticipations of the worst, and many a heart trembled which had scarce before felt fear, as the crew looked on their overwhelming pursuer, now rapidly shortening her distance from them. Even on the sturdy Captain’s brow large drops of perspiration stood, as he grasped more firmly the helm, casting many an anxious, but momentary, glance behind him, and then again at his sails and masts to see that they stood the gale; for he knew that his vessel’s best point of sailing was before the wind, drawing as she did, so little water, and scarcely seeming to touch the waves as she bounded along before them. Dark and thick masses of clouds rose rapidly behind the enemy, causing her sails to appear of snowy whiteness, and making her seem still more alarmingly near than she really was. As yet, however, for fear of stopping her way, she had not fired her guns, being perfectly certain of quickly catching her tiny chase.

The turmoil of the foaming waves, now lashed into ungovernable fury, increased each moment, while the thick heavy clouds, clashing in their hurried and disordered race, sent forth reiterated peels of thunder, and vivid and sharp flashes of forked lightning darted through the air. The rising sun had for a moment shed forth his beams on the scene of tumult, casting a bright glittering light on the madly leaping waves; but as if angry at the wild uproar, again concealed his glory behind the clouds, leaving a deep gloom on the disturbed waters.

The huge billows rolled along side of the little bark; and, following up astern, as if eager to grasp her beneath their vortex, threatened every moment to overwhelm her. Still, however, keeping before them, she seemed thrown from wave to wave; her head now dashed into the frothy, boiling cauldron, and now lifted high above the sea, while a dark abyss threatened below, and a towering billow seemed about to break over, and inundate her. At intervals also, the clouds, to add to the disorder, sent forth deluges of rain so thick, as almost to conceal their vast pursuer from view; but when again it subsided, she was seen approaching still nearer to them.

At length, the Russian, angry and weary of the long chase, yawed a little, and discharged his bow chasers in hopes of crippling the Turk, and bringing him to; but the balls either plunged into the leaping waves, or flew high above his masts, as difficult it was to take any certain aim, while so high a sea was running.

When the missiles of destruction passed thus wide of their mark, a laugh of defiance, which sounded much like desperation, escaped the Reis, as he watched where they fell. The corvette continued firing, as fast as the people could load the guns, but without doing any damage to the chase; and of course, the manoeuvre constantly repeated, made her fall further astern, till hopeless of hitting so small a mark at that distance, she desisted from firing; and continuing the pursuit, followed, according to the shiftings of the wind, the devious track of the zebeque.

The gale as if wearied by its own violence, seemed to have expended its fury, and to be passing over; first leaving the larger vessel astern, which was preparing to make more sail, when it shifted round suddenly to the west with redoubled fury.

Though the zebeque was thus placed to windward, it was certain destruction to attempt bringing so crank and light a vessel as she was, broadside on to that raging sea, which would, in an instant, have overwhelmed her; on a wind being her worst point of sailing. The only alternative of unavoidable and quick destruction, was to run still on before it, and thus to bring the vessel under the very bows of her gigantic opponent.

Few men, however brave, will rush with their eyes open on certain death, if it is to be avoided. Not a moment was to be lost in deliberation, and as the renewed fury of the gale struck her, the zebeque’s head was again turned towards the east, rapidly approaching the enemy.