The Missing Ship: The Log of the "Ouzel" Galley

by William Henry Giles Kingston

In another tent the master and purser, with the midshipmen, were engaged in amusing themselves in a more uproarious fashion. Many a merry stave and sentimental ditty was sung, and not a few yarns were spun, anecdotes told, and jokes cut, albeit not of the newest. The remainder of the shipwrecked men having been pretty well worked during the day, soon turned in, and in spite of the storm raging over their heads went fast asleep; the only people awake being the sentries, who, wrapped in their greatcoats, their firelocks sheltered under them, stood with their backs to the wind.

Thus the night passed away. With the morning light the rain ceased, and as Norman, who was the first among the officers on foot, looked in the direction of the spot where the ship had been, she was nowhere to be seen, but here and there amid the foam-covered reefs fragments of the wreck could be discerned, tossed about by the tumbling seas. He had reason to be thankful that such had not been her fate while the crew were still on board. He was soon joined by Mr Tarwig. He pointed in the direction of the wreck.

“Our chance of building a craft to carry us away is gone,” observed the first lieutenant, with a sigh. “Well, we must bear our lot patiently, and maybe some friendly craft may heave in sight. And if a friend does not come, why, perhaps an enemy will; and if so, we must capture her, and change places with her crew.”

“Little chance of that, I fear,” said Norman, who, eager as he was to get off, had from the first not been very sanguine of doing so.

After the crew had been piped up, and Mr Tarwig had mustered them and gone through the usual duties performed by a first lieutenant—although, as he observed with one of his comical looks to Norman, he need not get the decks washed, the rain having done that already—they re-entered their tent, to which their servants brought fresh water for their morning ablutions. Fires were lighted, though the wood did not burn at first very briskly, and the cooks busied themselves in preparing for breakfast.

The commander on going out of his tent took one glance seaward. “I feared it would be so,” he said, turning away his head. “Now, Mr Tarwig, we’ll get our fort under way.”

“It would be a hard matter to do that, sir,” answered the first lieutenant, screwing up his mouth, with a twinkle in his eye, “seeing it is not built yet.”

The commander, who knew he was fond of a joke, laughed, and desired to be shown the proposed site. On inspecting it, he highly approved of the spot selected.

Immediately breakfast was over, all hands were ordered to man the guns and commence the work of dragging them up the hill. One at a time, however, only could be moved, till it was got near enough to a stout tree to which a tackle could be fixed, and the seamen then ran it up the steepest part of the ascent with surprising rapidity.

Before the day was over half the guns were placed in position, and by means of stout shears, which were erected on the hill, were hoisted on their carriages. The rest were allowed to remain where they were till the embankments were thrown up. The smith and his mates, with such hands as he required, had put up a forge, and he and the carpenters had been busily engaged manufacturing pickaxes and spades. With such as had been finished the men were the next day set to work on the trenches, some being employed in cutting down trees to serve for the woodwork which was required. Eighty men were engaged in these operations, and it seemed extraordinary how much that number of willing hands could get through, the officers all labouring away to set them the example.