_ CHAPTER FIVE. A FIGHT WITH A BOAT
Were you ever nearly drowned? Did you ever feel the sensation of the waves rushing and roaring over you, as if full of triumph at having captured a human being to drag down into their depths and devour?
It is to be hoped not, and that you never will be in such jeopardy as that in which Mark Vandean found himself as the pale, soft moonlight was suddenly shut out from sight, and he went down into the black darkness, too much startled and confused to grasp his position and make a calm, matter-of-fact attempt to save his life. He was conscious of receiving a kick, which sent him lower, and then of rising and striking his head against something hard.
This blow roused him into action, and, realising in a flash that he had knocked his head against some portion of the boat, he struck out strongly, and the next moment was gazing around at the agitated water, and then made out, close at hand, what looked like the glistening back of some sea monster.
It was only the imagination of the moment. Directly after he was swimming for it, seeing that it was the bottom of the capsized boat, about which the crew were clustering.
Then a strong hand was stretched out to him, and he was drawn to the keel, Tom Fillot, who had rowed stroke oar, helping him to a good position.
"Hold on a bit, sir, and we'll try and right her."
"Yes," panted Mark. "Where's Mr Russell?"
"Here," came rather faintly from the other side of the boat, accompanied by a fit of gasping and coughing. "All right now; I got under the boat. All here, my lads?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Then you one and all deserve a flogging," cried the second lieutenant, angrily. "What were you about to capsize the boat?"
"Dunno, sir," said Tom Fillot, gruffly. "She went over all of her own sen."
"Don't be an idiot, man."
"Where's the black?" panted Mark, who had not yet got back to his regular breathing.
"I have him, sir," said the coxswain, "but I don't think he's--"
"Oh, don't say he's dead!" cried Mark.
"Course not, sir, if you says I'm not," muttered the man; "but it strikes me as he was dead before he reached the sea. Some one seems to have hit him on the head."
The lieutenant changed his position, so as to place himself alongside the coxswain, and then moved away again.
"Dead?" whispered Mark, as he drew himself a little more on the bottom of the boat, and craned his neck towards his brother officer.
Russell did not answer for the moment, but gravely bent his head.
"The brutes!" he then said, softly; "and all this risk for nothing."
Then aloud--"Now, my lads, quick. Swimmers. The oars."
These words roused the little crew, which had been clinging to the keel, half lying on either side of the boat, as if there was nothing more to be done but wait for help but now three of the men at once quitted their hold, and began to swim about in search of the oars and other objects floating about in the glistening moonlight.
"Never mind the hats, man," shouted the lieutenant. "The oars--the oars."
This was to one of the sailors who had reached a straw hat and clapped it upon his head as he swam, but the same man recovered one of the oars and brought it alongside.
"Any one seen my hitcher?" shouted the coxswain from where he hung on, supporting the black.
"No."
"Yes," came from Mark, who pointed; "there it is, standing up like a great quill float. See it?"
"Yes, sir, I see it," cried a sailor; and he swam off towards the white-looking pole, while others sought for and recovered the whole of the oars, which floated a short distance away, the men having gained a little more confidence, and freely quitting their hold of the boat, as it slowly rose and fell in the midst of the smooth, heaving sea.
Mark had done nothing but hold on to the keel and try to direct the men, as they swam here and there, giving a longing glance, though, from time to time at the distant _Nautilus_, whose white sails gleamed in the moonlight. Now, as the crew resumed their places, and tried to keep the oars and boathook alongside the keel, he turned to the lieutenant.
"What are you going to do about--about that?" he whispered.
"Get the poor creature on board--if we can," was the reply; and the young midshipman could not help shuddering. "It is what we were sent to do, Vandean," continued the officer, "and we must do our duty. Now, my lads," he cried, "all of you over here, and let's right the boat."
The men opposite swam round, and, the oars being left floating, an effort was made to drag the boat over, all hanging on the keel. But, in spite of effort after effort, she refused to right, and Mr Russell gave the word to rest for a few minutes, and collect the floating oars, which were getting scattered once more.
This being done, Mark turned to his officer, and said in a low voice,--"You want the coxswain to help?"
"I do, my lad," replied the lieutenant, but he stopped short and looked at his young companion.
"I will not mind," said Mark. "I'll try and hold the poor fellow up, and set Joe Dance free."
Without waiting to be ordered, Mark drew a deep breath, edged himself right astern to where the coxswain held on to the keel with one hand and grasped the black's wrist with the other.
"Go and take my place," he said; and making an effort over self, he searched for and found one of the little fenders suspended from the boat's side, took a firm hold, and then stretched out his right hand to grasp the black's wrist.
"Mean it, sir?" said the man.
"Yes," replied Mark, huskily. "Go and help."
The next minute the lad hung there in the water, with his face kept toward the boat, and his hand retaining that which he could not muster up sufficient courage to turn and gaze at, as it lay calm and stern, looking upward toward the peaceful moonlit skies.
Then began a sturdy effort to right the boat, and Mark's position grew irksome in the extreme, for at every struggle to drag the keel down toward them, the midshipman was drawn lower, and he felt that if his companions in misfortune succeeded in righting the boat, he would have to let go and try to keep himself afloat for a time.
But in spite of try after try, the boat remained stubbornly bottom upward, and at last, worn out by their exertions, all ceased their efforts, and rested half on the keel which offered a tempting halting place for those who liked to climb upon it, and sit astride.
Just then Dance the coxswain made his way to Mark, and without a word seized the wrist of the black, and in a low growl bade the young officer rest.
"Soon as you can, my lad," he whispered, "reach down and get hold of one of the rudder-lines. I'll make him fast to that."
"But his head--it must be kept above water," whispered back Mark in a choking voice, for he felt hysterical and strange.
"What for, my lad?" said the coxswain. "It can do no good. Half a million o' doctors couldn't save his life. He was done for when they pitched him in, and I should like to have my will o' them as done it. Precious little marcy they'd get out o' me."
"Come along here, Mr Vandean," cried the lieutenant from the bow end of the boat; and Mark shudderingly left the coxswain making fast the wrist of the dead black to one of the rudder-lines, and joined his brother officer, easily passing from one to the other of the men as they half lay on the bottom, resting and clinging by one hand to the keel.
"Cheer up, my lad!" said the lieutenant. "There's nothing to mind. The sea couldn't be smoother, and we can hold on like this for any length of time. The captain is sure to come back soon to pick us up."
Mark made no answer, but crept into as secure a place as he could beside his officer, gazed away at the dimly-seen vessels, and listened to the dull report of gun after gun.
"Well, you are very quiet," said the lieutenant after a long pause. "Why don't you speak?"
"I have only one thing to say," replied Mark, "and I did not like to say that."
"Why not? What is it?"
"I wanted to know whether they would ever find us again."
"Find us? Yes, of course," cried the lieutenant. "They must find us. There, it's all right. Never despair. No fear of our being washed off, and we've nothing else to mind."
"Sharks?" said Mark, involuntarily.
"Hush!" whispered the lieutenant, fiercely. And then with his lips to the lad's ear he said, "Never utter a word likely to damp your men's courage at a time like this. Do your duty and hope for the best. Trust in God for the help to come, my lad. That's how a sailor should act."
"I'll try, Mr Russell," whispered back Mark, with a curious choking feeling at his breast as he thought of home in far-away old England, and of the slight chance he had of ever seeing it again.
"Of course you will try, black as it all looks. Now then, we're a bit rested, and going to have another start."
But he gave no orders then, for with his wet hand shading his eyes, he tried to make out what was going on between the _Nautilus_ and the schooner, the firing having now ceased.
"I'm afraid the Yankee skipper's carrying on the same manoeuvre," he said at last; "and perhaps we shall have to wait for morning. Now then, I want this boat righted and baled out, but we shall be colder sitting in our wet clothes than we are now. Ready, my lads?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
Still he did not give orders for the men to renew their efforts, but hung there watching the distant vessels, while alone in the great ocean the capsized boat softly heaved and fell on the long smooth rollers.
"Yes," said the lieutenant at last, "he will be obliged to let her escape."
"Not take her?" cried Mark, rousing himself a little at this.
"No, not take her. He must heave to and pick us up. As soon as it is day glasses will be at work in the maintop; and directly they see our plight the _Nautilus_ will come down to us with every stitch of canvas set."
"Hooray!" shouted the men as they heard the lieutenant's words; and when he gave his orders, they set to with a will to drag the keel down toward them. Discipline, training, all was in their favour; but the boat was heavy, and seemed to fight against them. Turning their bodies into weights, they drew it more and more over, till it was so low that the lieutenant bade one man climb up and reach over to get hold of the side.
This was done again and again, but only for the weight to disturb the equilibrium, and send it back, the man in each case going right over with it, to be plunged in, head-first, on the other side.
Sailors are light-hearted fellows, and even in times of peril they soon forget their troubles, and are ready to join in a grin.
It was so here. A roar of laughter saluted each man who went down as soon as he rose again and swam round, taking it all good-humouredly enough, as he resumed his place to renew the struggle, till at last the lieutenant was ready to give up in despair.
"Let me try this time," said Mark at last. "I'm lighter, and I think I could get hold of the side with the boathook as soon as I am on the keel."
"Hear that, my lads?" shouted Dance, "and me to have handled a hitcher all these years, and never to have thought of it. Boat's righted, messmates, now; only, by your leave, sir, if you'd let me try, I think I could do it easier than you."
"Try then, my lad," said the lieutenant; and, getting hold of the hook, the coxswain moved into the centre on one side as the crew seized the keel and dragged it down, while the man, boathook in hand, climbed up, finding good foothold on the clinker-built boat, steadying himself with his pole as he worked. At last he stood upright on the side of the keel, reached over and fixed his hook upon one of the rowlocks; then holding on firmly by the pole and pressing his feet against the keel, he hung right away, his body now forming so heavy a balance-weight that upon the men making a simultaneous effort to draw the boat over, she came down more and more. Then with a sudden lurch the resistance against them was overcome, and she came right over to an even keel, plunging Dance into the water, from which he rose spitting and sputtering, to begin swimming back amidst a hearty burst of cheers. _