Unhappily, we had no sail, and only a couple of rough oars, formed by Tamaku; we had a few salted fish and birds, a basket of eggs, and some cocoa-nuts. Our stock of water was contained in a dozen cocoa-nut-shells, prepared as bottles by poor Tamaku. This stock would not last us many days; and should it be exhausted before we could reach another island, or fall in with a ship, we must starve.
Such were our prospects as we rowed away from the island, without chart or compass, or any other means of guiding our course, with the exception of the stars by night and the sun by day.
Chapter Six.
We pull south-west—Want of water and food—Catch some flying-fish—Sufferings from thirst—A breeze—A sail—Taken on board the “Violet”—Visit New Caledonia—Off the Australian coast—A hurricane—Brig wrecked—The pumps manned—Hopes of getting her off—Land in the boats—My father remains on board.
We pulled on all night, taking it by turns; and when the sun rose next morning we were out of sight of land. Mudge had come to the determination of steering to the south, under the belief that the inhabitants of the islands in that direction were less barbarous than those we had left. We thought, also, that we should be more likely to fall in with a whaler or sandal-wood trader belonging to New South Wales, which Mudge understood were in the habit of visiting the islands in those seas. Missionaries also, we knew, were settled on some of the islands to the southward; but, unfortunately, none of us had heard much about them, though we felt sure that, should we reach a place where one was established, we should be treated kindly. But the London and Wesleyan Missionary Societies had not in those days made the progress they have since done,—the blessings of Christianity and civilisation having been by their means carried among a very large number of the brown and black-skinned races of the Pacific. They had for some years been working among the Society Islands, and a few had visited Tonga, Samoa, and Fiji; while some of the native converts had gone forth among the more savage tribes, fearless of the perils they had to encounter.
Mudge proposed that we should at once be placed on an allowance both of food and water, to which we all readily agreed. We rowed on all day; but the boat was heavy, and though the water was calm we did not make more than three knots an hour—and we knew not how many miles we might have to go before we should reach land. During the day we each pulled about an hour at a time; and at night, that we might enjoy longer sleep, those at the oars continued two hours before they were relieved. Providentially, the weather continued fine, and the sea almost as calm as a mill-pond; thus we were able to make between sixty and seventy miles a day.
I cannot describe the events of each day, as they are much confused in my mind. We did our utmost to keep up our spirits: sometimes we sang, and sometimes we told such stories as we could remember, either of fiction or truth. Had poor Dick Tillard been alive and with us, his fund of yarns would have been invaluable. We frequently spoke of him, and mourned his loss. Mudge had seen a good deal of service, but he had not the happy knack of describing what had happened to him in the graphic, racy way poor Dick had of spinning a yarn. Mudge had been with Lord Cochrane during the war, and had taken part in some of his most gallant adventures. He was with him on board the Pallas when her boats had gallantly cut out the Tapageuse brig, and afterwards in her action with the Minerva, a ship nearly double her size; but his gallant commander having been, by the malignity of his foes, compelled to leave the navy, he himself had very little prospect of ever getting his promotion.
He gave us an account of the capture off Barcelona, by the Speedy sloop-of-war, of the Gamo frigate, more than twice her size. The Speedy was a little craft, of one hundred and fifty-eight tons only, and carried fourteen pop-guns—four-pounders—with a crew of fifty-four men; while the Gamo measured six hundred tons, and had thirty-two guns, with a crew of three hundred and nineteen men. After a desperate action, Lord Cochrane laid the little Speedy on board his big antagonist. He had ordered his men to blacken their faces; and one party, led by his gallant Lieutenant Parker, boarded at the bow, and soon gained a footing on the enemy’s deck. Their begrimed faces and the impetuosity of their onset struck dismay into the hearts of the Spaniards, and they incontinently gave way. Meantime Lord Cochrane headed the aftermost division; and the enemy, thus unexpectedly assailed fore and aft, were driven a confused mass into the waist. Here a desperate hand-to-hand struggle ensued; till one of the Speedy’s men, having by the captain’s direction fought his way to the ensign-staff, hauled down the Spanish colours, when the Spaniards, believing that their officers had struck the flag, cried out for quarter. The difficulty was to secure the prisoners, they having been driven into the main-hold of the Gamo. The ladders were removed, and guns were pointed down on them, a man being stationed with a lighted match, ready at any moment to fire among them should they attempt to retake the ship. Meantime sail was made on the prize, and she stood away from the shore just as a number of gunboats were seen coming out of Barcelona, which, had they acted with any degree of spirit, might have captured the Speedy, or compelled her to relinquish her prize.