“That’s what many more say, but it’s of no use,” growled out the mate.
Peter told me that on hearing this he could not help saying:
“Well, if you throw that poor fellow overboard while he’s got life in him, you may as well throw me and my master; for as sure as ever we get into port, we’ll go and tell the magistrate of you.”
The mate, with a look of surprise, gave a scornful laugh, but allowed Peter to draw the wounded man on one side, while he and the crew secured the spar, and passed life-lines forward where the bulwarks had been carried away.
I witnessed all that was taking place from my post aft, and as the mate saw that I could steer the vessel properly, he did not think fit to relieve me. I shouted to him over and over again to send a hand to the helm, but he either did not, or would not, hear me. As to where I was steering I had little conception. All I knew was that I was keeping the ship’s head away from the wind, for I had not thought of looking at the compass at first, and a block had fallen from aloft and broken in the binnacle.
The mate, I knew, was as ignorant as I was, and should the master not recover his senses, I suspected that we should have some difficulty in finding our way to New Orleans. There was a vast deal still to be done in getting the ship as much to rights as circumstances would allow, and, to do the mate justice, he worked himself, and made all under him work also.
On the ship flew under the bare stumps of the masts—they, I expected, would go next, as there were no shrouds to support them. The tortured, foaming waters rose higher and higher as the hurricane increased in strength and had longer time to affect them; and the higher the seas rose, the more the ship laboured, and the more difficult it was to steer, till my arms ached with the exertion, and I felt that if not relieved I must leave my post.
I shouted—I beckoned—to Snag, but though I was certain he saw me, he took no notice of my signs. At last Peter found his way to me, not without difficulty, and I sent him forward to summon one of the crew. The mate guessed his errand, and received him with a kick, and an order to tell me to remain where I was and make myself useful. Life is sweet, and we cling to it as long as we can; or otherwise, under the belief that the ship was hurrying to destruction, I should have thrown myself on deck, and let her broach to, which would probably at once have brought about the catastrophe. I was directing Peter to go back and help the poor wounded man, to drag him aft, if possible, and to get him down below, when there was a cry from forward. A huge sea came rolling up alongside, and (whether or not from my bad steering, I do not know) it broke on board, and, sweeping across the fore part of the deck, carried in its grasp all it reached. Two of the crew could be seen for an instant battling with the foaming seas, as if there was a possibility of their regaining the ship.
When once more the deck was free of water, the poor wounded man had disappeared. “He was surely taken in mercy, for his sufferings would otherwise have been fearful,” I said to myself. I was now glad to get Peter’s assistance, which he willingly gave; while honest Ready lay at my feet, looking up every now and then into my face, and saying in his own peculiar language, “Master, I wish that I could help you; but I couldn’t, I know—not if I was to try ever so much.” But Ready could be of use, even on board ship. Another huge sea came up, and this time, striking the quarters, it deluged the whole after-part of the vessel. I clung to the wheel, but Peter, less prepared, lost his hold of the wheel, and was carried away. Ready, instantly comprehending his danger, dashed after him, and seizing on the leg of his trousers as he lay thrown on his back, with the certainty of either being washed overboard or drowned in the lee-scuppers, dragged him up out of the water, and held him tight, till at length the mate, if not for my sake, for that of the ship, came aft to the wheel, and I was able to go to the rescue of my faithful follower.
Snag, though unconcerned for the loss of our companions, could not conceal from himself the danger we were in, and the probability that before long their fate would overtake him. He was as fierce and sulky-looking as before; but he said nothing, and I made no mark calculated to provoke his anger. The crew had done all that was possible for the safety of the ship, and the remnant now gathered under the after-bulwarks, awaiting what was next to happen.