Ran Away to Sea Part 22

I soon discovered him. He was among a crowd up over the davits, working with all his might. I could not get near him, and of course could not communicate with him without being overheard by the others. I therefore resolved to remain sole possessor of the dread secret till a better opportunity offered itself.

I set to work with the rest, heaving and hauling; but, amidst all I had but one thought. I scarce knew what was going on, or what I was myself doing. I was every moment in expectation of that loud report--that horrible explosion that would fling us all into eternity! I worked mechanically and often wrong; once or twice I caught myself hauling the wrong way. Some of them noticed this and rudely kicked me aside. Oh!

the keen apprehension!

The boat was at length cleared of the bulwarks and swung over the sea; and then the lowering commenced. This operation was not so difficult, and in a few minutes more she rested upon the water. The men gave a cheer at their success.

Many at once glided into the boat; while others remained above and on the sides, pa.s.sing down some necessary articles--some bread and water-- such things as could be most readily got at.

At this moment two men lifted between them a heavy barrel; and rolling it over the bulwarks, commenced lowering it downward. The size and shape of the barrel proclaimed its contents. It was a cask of rum, and its weight proved that it had never been broached, but was quite full of the potent spirit. No one objected to its being taken into the boat.

There were no protesters in that crew, but several now offered to a.s.sist in lowering it down. A bight of rope was thrown around the cask, and the letting down commenced.

It had scarcely balanced over the copper sheathing of the bulwark, when the bight of rope--hurriedly cast around it--slipped off, and the heavy barrel fell with all its weight into the bottom of the boat. Not exactly into the bottom but upon one side--a little below the water-line, as the boat lay.

A heavy crash was heard--not the firm concussion of the barrel striking on the elastic timbers of the boat; but more as if something had broken underneath where it fell. The barrel had fallen angularly and endways; and the sharp projecting end of the oaken staves had struck between two of the ribs of the boat, and fair upon the face of her outside planking.

As if the hand of a demon had guided it, the rum cast in its descent had fallen upon one of the decayed planks; and the crash that had been heard was the sound of the plank springing out of its bed and breaking crossways at the same time!

A wild cry rose from out the boat, as those who were below saw the catastrophe that had happened. It was visible even from the deck above; for looking over I perceived a thick gush of water pouring through the side of the boat.

Some of the men leaped out of her and came climbing up again; while others remained endeavouring to staunch the hole, and with buckets that were now thrown to them, commenced baling out.

They did not continue long at this. It was clearly a hopeless task; the huge breach could not be mended, and the boat filled ten times faster than they could bale her out. They soon abandoned the attempt; and, dropping the buckets, followed their companions up the side.

In less than ten minutes after, the long-boat had gone to the bottom of the sea.

"A raft! a raft!"

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.

"A raft! a raft!"

This was the cry that now echoed along the decks, while men were seen hurriedly seizing hold of spars, ropes, and axes.

But there was another cry and an angrier one. It arose from the few who had rushed towards the stern in hope of themselves appropriating the gig and whose disappointment at finding she was gone, found vent in oaths and shouts of vengeance.

They had no need to go aft of the burning cabin to make the discovery.

Over the quarter the gig was seen--distinctly seen under the clear moonlight, several cable-lengths from the barque, and fast rowing away.

Six forms were in the boat--six only--and the men at once knew that they were the captain, mate, and four of their favourites. No explanation was required. The behaviour of those in the gig told the tale of itself. They had deserted their companions in distress--had basely stolen away.

"Gig ahoy! gig ahoy!" was screeched after the departing boat, but to no purpose. Those in the gig paid no heed to the hail, but only appeared to row faster away. They seemed to dread being followed by the long-boat and overtaken; and well might they have a dread of it, for if the betrayed crew could have laid hands upon their _ci-devant_ officers at that moment, they would have shown them but scant mercy.

As for the latter, they were apparently rowing with all their might--as if they wanted not only to get beyond earshot of their old a.s.sociates, but out of sight altogether. Belike the ears of both captain and mate were keenly bent, and their eyes too--unfeeling as the hearts of both were, they must have been stirred in the antic.i.p.ation of that awful catastrophe, which both surely expected. They might have wished for a time to be deprived both of sight and hearing.

As I have said, there was a cry of vengeance along the deck. Some, who but the moment before were skulking aft with a similar purpose, were now loud in their denunciations of the dastardly conduct of the officers; and, goaded by the two pa.s.sions of disappointment and rage, shouted after them the most opprobrious epithets and bitterest threats.

But the little boat was by this far off upon the water; and the necessity for immediate action soon called the men from these idle demonstrations.

All hands set to work at the formation of the raft.

The ability and despatch with which sailors can construct a raft, would be almost incredible to a landsman who had never seen the thing done.

It is not from mere concert or organisation among themselves--though there is something in that. Not much, however, for well-drilled soldiers are as clumsy at such a work as farm-labourers.

Though the princ.i.p.al material of a raft be timber, the sailor with his rope will far sooner bind it together than the carpenter with his hammer and nails; and bind it far safer and surer. The rope is the sailor's proper weapon, and its use he understands better than all others. He knows at a glance, or by a touch, whether it be the thing for the purpose intended--whether it be too long or too short, too weak or too stout--whether it will stretch or snap, or if it will hold securely. He knows, as if by instinct, what sort of knot should be used for this, and what sort for the other--whether a "reef-knot" or a "bowline," a "diamond" or an "overend"--whether a "clove-hitch," a "clinch," or a "cat's paw"--all these modes of splicing and trying, with five times as many more, are secrets only known to the sailor.

And only he can rapidly cut down a mast, or detach a spar from its rigging, and get them overboard without delay. The aid of a landsman would be of little service in operations like these.

Like bees the men went to work--every one of the thirty and four. Some handled the saws and axes--some carried spare-yards and spars, some with their knives attacked the running gear and provided the ropes. All were equally busy--all equally interested in the result.

In a few minutes the main-mast came down with a crash, falling over the side, and grinding the bulwarks beneath it as if they had been hurdles of reeds; and in a few minutes more its rigging was all cut loose--both running and standing--its shrouds and stays--sheets, braces, and lifts.

The great mast, with its yards still attached, soon rested upon the water alongside the wreck--for the _Pandora_ might now be called a wreck--and upon these, as a foundation, the raft was speedily laid. The spare spars and yards, the gaffs and booms, were thrown upon top, and soon lashed firm by those who had descended to the water, and who now found footing upon the huge floating ma.s.s of timber. Empty casks were bunged and flung overboard, and these added essentially to the safety of the structure and its capability of carrying a greater weight. Sails, too, were thrown loosely over all, and then, last of all, the biscuit and water--such quant.i.ties of each as could be found amid the confusion.

At length the raft was deemed complete. It could not have exceeded fifteen minutes from the sinking of the long-boat, until the cheering fact was announced, that the raft was ready!

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

But short as was the time it appeared an age to me. With that dread secret shut up in my breast, every minute seemed an hour; and I knew not the moment that was to be our last. When the long-boat went down, I had resigned all hope--not dreaming that a raft could be got ready before the explosion would take place.

It is metaphorical to say that every minute seemed an hour; but so tardy did the time appear that I began to wonder why the awful event was so long delayed. Perhaps, thought I, the powder may be far down, covered over with other things--such as boxes and bales--and the fire has not yet been able to get at it? I knew that a barrel of powder, even when thrown into the midst of a red-hot fire, takes a considerable time to explode. An intense heat must be generated in the wood before the powder inside will ignite; and, for this reason, the barrel must be a good while exposed to the fire. Perhaps the flames had not yet reached it? Was this the reason why the catastrophe was delayed?

Or was it that the powder was not in the store-room, or the cabin either, or in the after-part of the vessel at all? About its whereabouts the skipper had said nothing, and it was upon this point I had desired explanation as the gig rowed off. A knowledge of this might have been of the greatest importance; but the captain had not even thrown out a hint. What after all if there was no gun-power on board?

What if the man had meant it as a jest--ill-timed and unfeeling though it was?

What if he had intended it not as a piece of pleasantry, but an act of refined cruelty?

There were circ.u.mstances that favoured this last supposition. For the preceding twenty hours he had been at loggerheads with the crew. Ever since morning, since the commencement of the water trouble, the men had been sulky and mutinous, and both mate and captain had been slightly treated--their orders in most cases altogether disregarded. In fact, both had been bearded and threatened, and several angry altercations had occurred between them and the crew. It was natural they should feel spiteful and desirous of having revenge--natural for such men as they were--and might it not be to gratify this feeling, that the skipper had shouted back that gratuitous piece of intelligence, that there was gunpowder on board?

Fiendish as such conduct may appear, there was probability in the supposition. It would only be in keeping with the character of the man.

I really began to hope that such might be the case; and it again occurred to me to seek Ben and communicate the secret to him. He would be more likely to know whether the skipper had spoken truly or in cruel jest; and, if the former, perhaps he might be able to guess where the dangerous material was concealed, and might yet be in time to move it beyond the reach of the fire.

These reflections occupied me but a few seconds of time; and as soon as I had made them I hurried over the decks in search of my friend, with the design of making the disclosure of my secret.

I found him among the rest, busy about the raft. He was wielding an axe, and cutting away some of the sheeting of the bulwarks, to help in its construction. I caught him by the sleeve, and with a gesture drew him a little to one side; and then in a whisper I made known to him the parting speech of the captain.

I saw that the announcement startled him. Brave man though he was, it was enough to bring the paleness to his cheeks, and cause him to stand for some moments speechless and irresolute.

"You're sure he said that--sure o' it, Willim?"

"Quite sure--they were his very words."

"A barrel o' powder aboard!"

"He said it just as they rowed off. I've been thinking he might have done it out of spite--to frighten us?"

"No, no, lad, it's true--s.h.i.+ver my timbers! if it an't. The powder--'twas believed we'd turned it all over to King Dingo. Now I remember something. I thought I seed the skipper hide a barrel o' it after it was counted out; he stole it from the n.i.g.g.e.r, for sartin. I thought so at the time, but warn't sure. Now I be sure. There be a barrel aboard, sure as we're livin'! Heaven o' mercy--we're lost, lad!--we're lost!"