“We must keep a bright look-out, and haul up in time,” replied the young commander of the Marie.
“But if we do haul up with this hurricane raging and this sea running, we may drift on shore notwithstanding,” answered Voules. “Our only chance will be to endeavour to get round the island, if we see it in time, and to anchor under its lee, if holding ground can be found, and wait there until the storm is over.”
“We will have a look at the chart, and ascertain how far off the land is,” said Lord Reginald.
Going below, he and Voules eagerly examined the chart. No islands appeared for some distance ahead. To the northward, was the east end of Java, with Bali, Sumbawa, and Floris, extending in a long line beyond it. Should the wind shift to the southward, they might run through one of the passages existing between those islands; but still, the ship was a considerable distance to the southward of them, and they hoped that the hurricane would cease before they were driven thus far. On returning on deck, the wind appeared to have increased rather than decreased. As they were standing together, looking anxiously at the bending masts, the remaining top-gallant sails were torn from their lashings, and before any hands could be sent aloft to secure them, the masts themselves were carried away and the lately trim ship looked now almost a wreck. To cut them clear was a work of no little danger. The men saw what was required. Several volunteered, notwithstanding the risk they ran, to go aloft. Among them was Dick. With knives and axes they cut desperately at the rigging, until, as the ship heeled over, they fell clear of her into the water. Relieved of so much top hamper, she appeared to be greatly eased. Another night was approaching, but the storm raged as furiously as before. All night long the ship ran on, the seas increasing in height, and threatening every instant to poop her. Although for a short time Lord Reginald turned in, yet neither he nor any one on board could obtain much sleep. Several times he came on deck, only to see the ship labouring on amid the foaming billows.
Another morning dawned, the weather looking as wild as on the previous day. Few on board failed to ask themselves, “Shall we see another sunset?” Again and again Lord Reginald and Voules examined the chart, with anxious forebodings of evil. They saw that numerous islands and reefs lay ahead of them. Lord Reginald proposed hauling the ship up before dark, to escape the risk of running on one of them during the night. Voules feared that if it was done the canvas would not stand, and that she would then be drifted helplessly on any reef or island in her way. No sun was to be seen; the whole sky wore one uniformly leaden hue, while the dark seas of the same tint rose and fell, their tops covered with masses of foam which, blown off by the wind, filled the atmosphere. “Should there come a lull, we will haul up,” exclaimed Lord Reginald. “We shall do it at our peril,” observed Voules. “It must be done,” was the answer. “Stand by to haul out the spanker! Starboard the helm!”
The ship as she came to heeled over almost on her beam ends, while the seas broke over her, driving the masses of spray into the eyes of the crew, so that they could scarcely see a few yards before them, while the lee side of the deck was almost under water. Although no signs of a leak had hitherto been discovered, the acting carpenter, who had been ordered to sound the well, came aft with a pale face, announcing that a large quantity of water had found its way below.
“Man the pumps!” was the answer, and the already hard-worked crew were soon labouring away to clear the ship. So often, however, were the nozzles of the pumps under water, that the men could not tell whether they were drawing or not, and the cry, “Hold on for your lives!” compelled them frequently to let go and clamber into the rigging, or hold on by the stanchions, while a furious sea swept over the deck, threatening to carry them away. Again darkness had come on. Except a closely reefed fore-topsail and mizzen-trysail, not a sail remained. She was furiously plunging into the seas, when once more a report was heard, and the fore-topsail was seen blowing away in shreds. Directly afterwards the spanker gaff came down, and now not a shred of canvas remained, the ship in consequence drifting bodily to leeward. Most of the crew were forward, the officers and some of the men remaining on the poop. Among the former were Dick and Ben.
“I thought things were getting very bad,” said Ben. “They could not be worse.”
“What, then, do you think will happen?” asked Dick. “Why, we shall either go down or be driven ashore. It matters little which, for if the ship strikes there’s little chance of any of us reaching the land, with these seas breaking over her, and then sweeping everything before them. I know what it is on our own coast. With such a hurricane as we have got blowing, it will be ten times worse.”
“Then is there no chance of saving our lives if we strike?” asked Dick.