For the first time for several nights Adair turned in, desiring to be called should any event of importance occur. When he awoke, he had the satisfaction of hearing that the crew had gained six inches on the leak, though, from any relaxation of their efforts, the water would quickly have flowed in again.
All hands anxiously waited for daylight. The fires were kept banked up, ready at any moment should it become necessary to put on steam. It was fortunate that this precaution was taken. It had just gone two bells in the second watch, when a sudden squall, descending from the cliffs, struck the ship. The lead, which the second lieutenant, who had the watch, ordered to be hove, showed that she was drifting.
Adair was on deck in a moment. He ordered more cable to be veered out. The third lieutenant, who was in the forecastle, reported that the anchor was away. It was accordingly hove up, when it was found that it had parted close to the shank, leaving both flukes fast in the sand or rock into which it had stuck. Steam was immediately got up, although by that time the ship had drifted some distance out to sea. When the morning broke she was surrounded by a thick mist, shutting out every object half a mile off. Still, the direction of the land was known, and the engines being set to work, she soon steamed back.
“I was afther thinkin’,” said Pat, “that that black rock we saw last night was but Cape Fly-away, afther all. It will be a wonder to me if we ever sight it again. But, hurrah! there’s the fire we saw burning, so there must be a human being there; an’ Cape Fly-away contains no living sowl except, maybe, the Flyin’ Dutchman, afther he got tired of cruising about in his ould craft, an’ taken to livin’ on shore.”
Similar ideas, although expressed in different language, were uttered by many of the other men. However, that did not prevent them from pumping away as before. All this time, it must be remembered that without a moment’s cessation the whole crew were thus engaged spell and spell.
“If that’s Cape Fly-away, it’s not had time to fly very far,” observed Pat, as the land once more came in sight and the anchor was let go in seven fathoms of water, still closer in with the shore, where it was hoped it would hold.
The engineer, however, received orders to keep the fires up, so that she might hold her own against any ordinary blast which might again strike her.
As the mist cleared away, every object on shore could be distinctly seen. The ship was found to be but a quarter of a mile distant from an almost circular line of cliffs, forming a deep basin, the only opening towards the sea. They rose in many places to the height of nearly 900 feet, extending on either side of this curious basin for about a mile. It was thus conjectured that the island was about two miles in length. That there was a bar at the entrance of the harbour was evident from the way the water broke completely across it; but, from the size of the basin, it would have contained a fleet of ships as large as the Empress. While they were looking at the shore, a Dutch flag was run up to the end of a staff at the end of a high rock at the southern side of the entrance.
“Sure, I thought so!” said Pat, when he saw it. “That’s the Flyin’ Dutchman. Before the boats reach the shore he an’ his island will be off again, an’ lead us a pretty chase!”
“Maybe, Massa Pat,” replied Peter, “if it come on calm, we beat him by de steam. He hab always sail head to wind; but me tink dat big rock no play us dat trick.”