The South Sea Whaler

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Well, we will pull your raft to pieces, and put the bow and stern on to ours, and raise our bulwarks.”

“Ay, ay, mate,” answered Nub; and they immediately set to work. It was an operation requiring a good deal of skill, as it was necessary to lash the fresh timbers very securely, or they would prove a source of much danger; for should the sea get up, and should they break loose, they would be thrown upon the raft, and thus endanger the safety of those on it. A portion of Nub’s raft was composed of spars, one of which was found long enough to serve as a mast, instead of the two oars which had hitherto done duty as such; and they would now be of much use in impelling on the raft. The mast was securely fixed between the two cross spars, fastened at either end to the raised sides, and it was then well stayed up, so that the whole sail bent to a yard could now be hoisted up. The casks were then lashed securely to the two sides of the raft as well as to the bow and stern; and when all was finished, the mate declared that he believed their craft would weather out a heavy gale as well as many a ship at sea. He might have said much better than many, which, over-laden and leaky, go helplessly down into the depths of the ocean without any land in sight or help near, the hapless crew perishing miserably.

It was nearly mid-day when all was completed. Nub had not uttered a complaint. At last he could not help exclaiming, “Oh, Mr Shobbrok, can you give me just one mouthful of water? I give de last to Missie Alice, and she not know I go all de time without any.”

“Of course, my lad, of course,” answered the mate, filling a cup from the cask. “We must be careful of it; but I know what you are feeling, and there would be no use in giving you just one mouthful.”

Nub drank the water, and, heaving a sigh as he smacked his lips, he exclaimed, “Dat is delicious!”

“Now I think of it, we have not breakfasted. Miss Alice and Walter must be pretty hungry, and thirsty too,” said the mate.

“I am not very thirsty, but I should like to have a few of the biscuits Nub and I brought,” answered Alice.

Nub looked downcast. There were only two remaining. He had not let Alice discover this, that she might not know how close run they were for food. For many hours he, honest fellow, had eaten nothing. The mate, suspecting this, gave Alice the biscuits with a cup of wine and water, and then beat up some more fish, oil, and pounded biscuit, which he shared with Walter and Nub. The latter thought the food especially good, and would have been perfectly ready to eat twice as much of it had it been given to him. Some more wine and water restored the strength of all the party, but poor Nub wanted something besides food. For many a long hour he had not closed his eyes. He told the mate so, and asking his leave, threw himself down on the deck. Almost before his head reached the piece of wood Walter had placed for a pillow, he was fast asleep. Alice was very nearly as sleepy as poor Nub; and the mate saying he would steer, Walter sat down on the deck, and taking her in his arms, she also in less than a minute closed her eyes, feeling far happier than she had done since she had left the burning ship. Having perfect confidence in the mate, it seemed to her that they had now only to sail on till they reached the shore. Happily, she little thought of the dangers before them, or knew that the scanty stock of provisions they possessed would not last long, and that before many days were over famine must overtake them.

The wind remained light but variable, and now coming from the southward, they could only steer a north-westerly course. The mate feared that it might shift to the west; if so, they would have to lower the sail and trust to their oars. Their progress in that case would be very slow, as neither Walter nor Nub had much strength for rowing. As before, he himself intended to steer during the night; so, on the approach of evening, telling Walter to take the helm, he lay down, making his arm serve as a pillow for Alice. Before closing his eyes, he gave the usual charge to Walter to call him should there be any alteration in the wind; which, of course, Walter faithfully promised to do. Walter stood bravely to his post till he found his head nodding, and the stars at which he was gazing dancing before his eyes; and reluctantly he was on the point of calling Mr Shobbrok, when the mate, lifting up his head, told him to take charge of Alice, while he resumed his place at the helm.

All night long the old sailor stood steering the raft, allowing his young charges and Nub to sleep on.