“We had given you up for lost,” said Tom, as he shook hands with his brother midshipman.
“And we, to say the truth, had very little expectation of seeing you again,” answered Archie. “How did you escape?”
“How did you find your way here?” asked Tom, without answering the question.
Before Archie could reply, Captain Rogers came on deck and welcomed the party. After exchanging a few words, the commander and lieutenant accompanied him into the cabin, while Archie was led off by his old shipmates into their berth. Before, however, he would give them an account of his adventures, he insisted on hearing about theirs, which of course occupied some time.
“And now,” said Tom, “we want to hear your yarn. Was the Dragon lost? was it her we saw on the rocks, or was that some other unfortunate vessel?”
“She was the Dragon, there can be no doubt,” answered Archie. “You remember the day at the Bonins when the hurricane suddenly sprang up. We had just got on board and were looking out for you, when the commander, considering that we should to a certainty be driven on shore if we remained where we were, ordered the steam to be got up, intending to run round and take you on board. We had not got far, however, when one of our boilers burst, killing half a dozen men and committing other damage. We had now to depend upon our canvas, while the hurricane was every instant increasing in strength. The ship, however, behaved very well. We ran on before the gale for four and twenty hours, when a lull coming on, the commander, wishing to get back to the Bonins, hauled the ship up. We had not, however, stood on long under close-reefed topsails, when a furious blast suddenly struck her, and in one fell swoop carried away all our masts. We managed, however, to get before the wind again by hoisting a sail on the stump of our foremast, and ran on, hoping to get under the lee of some island by the time the gale was over, where we might rig jury masts.
“Night came on; the hurricane was over. We were anxiously looking for daylight. Our belief was that we were a considerable distance from any island, when suddenly a loud crash was heard, and we had too sure evidence that the ship was on shore. Happily the sea had gone down, and although she struck heavily several times, we had hopes that she would hold together until we had made our escape. The commander, who was as cool as a cucumber, told us that although he could not get the ship off, seeing that already she had two or three holes in her bottom, our lives might all be preserved if we maintained discipline and exerted ourselves. When daylight came we found ourselves in sight of a small island, but it looked barren and inhospitable, with intervening reefs, over which the sea was breaking, so that we could have but little hope of reaching it. Outside, however, it was much calmer, but as the boats could not carry us all, the commander determined to build two or more rafts or catamarans which might convey all who could not go in the boats, and carry provisions and water.
“We hoped to reach the Loo-choo Islands, should we miss Grampus Island, half-way to them. The weather coming on perfectly fine, we were able to get three rafts rigged and the boats prepared for sea. The boats were to take the rafts in tow and keep within hailing distance, steering as the commander might direct. With a light wind from the eastward we shoved off from the wreck, without leaving a man behind. We made but slow progress, as the wind was light and the rafts towed somewhat heavily, still, we were all in good spirits, except that we regretted the loss of the ship and could not help thinking what had become of you fellows. We ran on for three days and then began to look out for Grampus Island, when the weather became threatening. As the barometer fell, so did our spirits. Had we all been in the boats, we might by this time have reached the shore, but of course they would not desert the rafts. The second lieutenant had charge of one raft, Josling another, and I volunteered to command the third. Even should a gale spring up, we did not altogether despair of navigating our rafts, so that we might run before it and lash ourselves down to escape being washed off.
“The wind blew stronger and stronger; the sea got up, and as night approached, matters were looking very disagreeable. The commander came round and spoke to those on the rafts, telling us what to do, and promising that the boats should remain by us should the worst come to the worst. The night was dark and squally. The catamarans rode over the sea better than was expected, although at times we scarcely expected to see another sunrise. When day at length broke, we were still in sight of each other, but there was no abatement in the gale, nor could land anywhere be discerned.
“Though we had weathered one night, from the experience we had had we earnestly hoped that we might not be exposed to a still severer gale, and yet there seemed every likelihood of the wind increasing. For my part, I began to think it was a pity those in the boats should expose themselves to greater danger by remaining by us, and was considering that we ought to urge the commander to leave us to make the best of our way, when a sail appeared in sight to the southward. As she stood towards us we made her out to be an American whaler. On coming up to us she hove to, when our commander went on board. We were, it may be supposed, not a little anxious to know what arrangements he would make with the master of the whaler. He was not long in settling matters. In a short time he made a signal for the other boats to come alongside, which they quickly did. The stores and the people not required for pulling were at once taken on board. The boats then came off to the rafts, when we all got into them and towed the rafts up to the ship. The stores were at once hoisted up, when the rafts were cast adrift, while our larger boats were allowed to tow astern, as they could not be taken on board. The American captain, who was bound to the coast of Japan in search of whales, agreed to land us at Yokohama.