The History of Little Peter, the Ship Boy

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Chapter Six.

Saved from the Wreck.

With the exception of the gale spoken of in the last chapter, the Primrose had enjoyed fine weather for the greater part of the passage. But dark, heavy clouds now rolled across the sky; the wind blew fiercely, and the seas rose up in mountainous billows, such as Peter had never before beheld. The wind, however, was fair, and with her after-sails furled, and closely-reefed topsails only set, the ship flew on before it. As Peter stood on deck he watched sea after sea rolling up astern and threatening to break on board, but with a loud roar, just as they reached her, their foaming summits came hissing down, and she glided up the side of a huge billow ahead. For an instant she seemed to hang on the top of the watery ridge, and then slid down into another valley, up the opposite side of which she climbed as before.

She had thus run for some distance when the wind dropped, and she lay rolling in the trough of the still heavy sea. The sky overhead was dark and lowering, a drizzling rain fell, and the air was oppressive. The captain and officers looked anxious. They had cause to be so, for suddenly the wind again rose, now blowing from one quarter, now from another, and all hands were kept on deck ready to brace round the yards as might be required. For several days no observation had been taken, and old Hixon told Peter that he feared the ship had been driven considerably out of her course.

“Will the captain soon be able to get an observation to steer the right way?” asked Peter.

“If the sky clears he may, but I have known it to remain like this for days and weeks together, and though Captain Hauslar is as good a seamen as I should wish to sail with, he may be out in his reckoning, and there are some ugly rocks and shoals to the eastward, which on a dark night it is a hard matter to see till one is right upon them,” answered old Hixon.

After the ship had been knocking about for some days, the wind again came fair, though somewhat strong, and the captain, anxious to make up for the long delay, and hoping to escape all dangers, with the ship under moderate canvas steered to the eastward, ordering a bright look-out to be kept. The middle watch had been called, and the fresh look-outs, rubbing their eyes, had just gone to their posts. It was Hixon’s turn at the wheel. Peter, who was in the same watch, followed him aft, for the old man had undertaken to give him lessons in steering. As he stood by his side he frequently quoted passages of Scripture from his Bible, and sometimes, by the light of the binnacle lamp, he referred to the book, and read long portions.

Hixon having just received the course from the man he relieved had taken hold of the spokes, when there came a sharp cry from the look-out forward, of “Breakers ahead!” followed quickly by “Land! land!”

“Down with the helm!” shouted the officer of the watch. “All hands on deck; brace up the yards!”

Almost before the ship’s course could be altered, a fearful blow was felt, which made the masts quiver and the ship tremble from stem to stern—another and another followed. The sea dashed up wildly over her, throwing her on her beam ends; then came a fearful crash, and the tall masts fell over her side towards the dark rocks which rose close to her. The captain and all below had rushed on deck. Awakened suddenly out of their sleep they stood aghast, expecting instant death. Some seemed to have lost their senses and cried wildly for help. The captain took his post by the companion-hatch, gazing around and considering what orders to issue.