The South Sea Whaler

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Dey take care of demselves, Missie Alice,” answered Nub. “My business is to sabe you.”

“Oh, don’t think of me,” exclaimed Alice. “I cannot bear the thoughts of their perishing if it is possible to save them.”

“It not possible, den,” answered Nub; “unless I run de risk ob losing you.” And he worked away as before.

The flames had now burst forth from all sides of the ship, affording him sufficient light for the purpose. Having preserved a stout spar to serve as a mast, he fixed it firmly at one end of the raft, staying it up with the remainder of the rope, with the exception of a piece which he kept for halyards. The sail was already attached to a light yard, so that he had only to secure it to his halyards and hoist it up. This he did, bringing the sheet aft, where he placed himself, with an oar to serve as a rudder.

His great object was to get to a sufficient distance from the ship, to avoid the danger of another explosion. By this time the cries from the drowning men had ceased; and had he thought it safe to venture back to the ship, it would probably have been too late to save them. What had become of the rest of his shipmates he could not tell. He fancied, indeed, that he heard the sound of voices; but if so, they must have been on the other side of the ship, and were thus shut out from view.

A light breeze having now got up, the raft made tolerable way, and soon got to some distance from the ship; but still fearing that the fragments might reach them and injure Alice, Nub stood on. Now and then he cast a look at the ship. It appeared to him that the flames were not making such rapid progress as at first. “After de fire burn out, we go back, Missie Alice; but still I tink we safer here dan on board de ship,” he observed. “S’pose we near and de ship go down, den de oder men get on de raft and sink her.”

Nub, indeed, knew that there were two dangers to be apprehended. Should the ship blow up, he and Alice might be injured by the fragments, which would probably be sent to a great distance from her; while, should she go down, the raft might be drawn into the vortex: and sink with her. He could not tell at what distance they would be free from either of these two dangers; and this made him stand on much further than was in reality necessary.

On and on he went. It seemed foolish to him to stop short of a spot of positive safety. The fierce flames were blazing up from every part of the ship, making her appear much nearer than she really was. The wind was increasing, driving the raft rapidly before it; and as the sea got up and rolled under the raft, Nub saw that the only means of preserving it from being swamped was to continue on his course.

On and on he sailed. The sea rose higher and higher, and the clouds gathered thickly in the sky. His great fear was that the seas would break aboard and sweep Alice off. To prevent so fearful a catastrophe, he begged her to let him fasten her to a hen-coop, which he lashed tightly down in the centre of the raft. “Don’t be afraid, Missie Alice; don’t be afraid,” he kept continually saying.

“I am not afraid for myself,” answered Alice; “but I am thinking how miserable poor papa and Walter will be when they get back to the ship and find that I am gone. They will not know that you are taking care of me, and that we are safe on a raft. And then, if Mr Lawrie and Dan Tidy should escape, they will not be able to say where we are gone, as they did not see us get away. For their sakes, I wish that we could go back.”