<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></SPAN>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
<p class="topnote">BOUND FOR JAMAICA.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">All</span> hands had been ordered on board in the
afternoon, the tide serving about five p.m., but
from some unexplained cause we did not sail at
the time appointed. This delay led to complications,
for although the crew had, for a wonder,
come on board fairly sober, they all rejoiced at
the opportunity afforded them of a last carouse.
By some mysterious means some money was obtained;
all hands departed for the purlieus of Shadwell,
with the result that at ten o'clock the officers
were scouring the slums hunting for them. It
was a hopeless task, as the event proved, for by
midnight only two had been found, and they were
both helplessly drunk. They were dragged on
board like bundles of rags, and hoisted into their
bunks, where they remained in peace. That tide
being lost, the officers had a few hours' rest, turning
out again about four a.m. to renew the search.
Meanwhile the vessel was shifted into the Shadwell
Basin, ready to start the moment her crew
were on board. The morning broke cheerlessly
enough with a light fall of snow, gradually increasing
to a blinding mist of white, through which occasionally
a little party came dragging some oblivi<span class="pagenum">[111]</span>ous
mariner, who had spent his respite in filling
himself with whatever fire-water he could obtain.
At last, weary of waiting, the skipper determined
to go on, although he was still two men short.
Accordingly the warps were cast off, the tug
backed in and took hold of us, and away we went
down the river through the thick veil of snow that
made the "mud pilot's" job both difficult and
dangerous. There was another boy besides me, a
burly fellow of sixteen, who very soon made it
clear to me that I was not going to lead a pleasant
time with him. He had come from the <i>Warspite</i>,
and knew nothing of the ways of merchant-ships,
which gave me a little advantage over him in one
way. But he was well provided with plenty of
warm clothing, by the bounty of the Marine Society,
while I was so thinly clad that the piercing
cold benumbed all my faculties, and I crawled
about like a snail, making a very bad impression
upon the officers. Our arrival at Gravesend came
as a blessed relief, for there was a good hot meal
of fresh food ready as soon as the anchor was
down. And as all the seamen were in a deep,
drunken slumber, Bill, my colleague, and myself
had a mighty feed all to ourselves, after which we
turned in, and slept unmolested till supper-time.
The skipper had gone ashore to get a couple of
men in place of the defaulters, and did not return
till after dark. He brought two sober seamen
with him, who looked as though they had been
outward-bound for a very long time. Their
cheeks were quite hollow with hunger, and they
had hardly more clothing than they stood in. Yet<span class="pagenum">[112]</span>
they were both able men, proving indeed the best
seamen on board. After they had eaten a good
meal, they were set to keep anchor-watch turn
about, until at midnight all hands were called
to man the windlass.</p>
<p>I wish it was possible to give my readers an
idea of the misery involved in this operation under
such conditions. First of all, the officers were
obliged to drag the sodden sleepers from their
lairs; then to shake, if possible, some gleam of
sense into them, some faint idea of what was required
of them. After nearly an hour's struggle,
the miserable men were at last mustered on the
fo'lk'sle head at the windlass levers, where, exposed
to the full fury of the bitter wind, they cowered
more like sheep than men. Their feelings, as
the drink died out of them, and the cold searched
their very vitals, must have been horrible. Occasionally
one of them would slip down gently
from the fo'lk'sle and disappear, only to be hunted
up again by the vigorous boatswain, who kept a
watchful eye upon any would-be skulkers. More
by dint of the bo'sun's energy, I believe, than any
vitality in the limp crew, the anchor was at last
lifted, the hawser passed to the hovering tug, and
away we glided ghost-like down-stream. Ben,
the big boy, and myself were pretty well fagged
out with hauling back the big links of cable, and
stowing them in neat fakes abaft the windlass; but
the bo'sun believed in keeping boys on the go, so
we got no time to think about being tired. Luckily
for us the wind was dead on end, so that it was
useless making sail. All hands were kept busily<span class="pagenum">[113]</span>
employed clearing up the decks, getting the running-gear
into its proper places, and generally preparing
the ship for independent travelling. By
daylight the weather grew better, the wind veered
to the eastward a little, and the fore-and-aft sails
were set. So we drew slowly round to the North
Foreland, where the tug slipped our hawser; all
sail was set, and we were fairly started on our voyage.
As I got a little warmth into my stiffened
limbs, I won back some of the good opinion I had
forfeited by my clumsy, spiritless movements of
the previous day. Being sent aloft to loose some
of the square sails, I was cheered by hearing the
elderly mate remark quietly, "That's a smart little
boy," and I must confess I was not displeased to
note that Ben only succeeded in drawing down
maledictions on his head for his clumsiness and
general inability to do what was required of him.
There was a vengeful gleam in his eye, as he saw
how inferior he was in smartness to myself, which
boded no good to me, and from the first day out
he never lost an opportunity of doing me an ill
turn.</p>
<p>The captain was a fine, manly specimen of a
seaman, with glowing red hair and beard, and a
voice of thunder. Fiery tempered, yet easily pacified,
he was also one of the most energetic of men,
and I never saw a skipper better liked by his crew.
The mate was a middle-aged man, at least ten
years the captain's senior, rather slow and sedate,
but a thorough seaman and navigator. The bo'sun,
who was acting second mate, was an old shipmate
of the skipper's, and quite his equal in en<span class="pagenum">[114]</span>ergy.
He was one of that fast-decaying type of
seamen, a Blackwall rigger, to whom every detail
of sailorizing was as familiar as eating his breakfast.
Besides this, he was a born leader of men,
who would enforce his will regardless of consequences.
No man durst give him "slack lip" on
pain of being instantly knocked endways; a feat
of which, by reason of his size and strength, he
was fully capable. As a result we were a well-disciplined
crowd, from whom no growling was heard
whatever the work imposed. There were eight
A.B.'s, out of whom only three were foreigners;
but not one of them calls for any special description
from me. They all had the bad old idea that
boys were born slaves, who must do all the dirty
work on deck, and when below be content with
their leavings, wait upon them hand and foot, and
take uncomplainingly all the ill-treatment it was
their prerogative to bestow. Being at the bottom
of the scale, I had a wretched life. For I was no
match for Ben, who unfailingly passed on his share
of blows to me, so that I was seldom without
some visible marks of ill-usage. But the food was
certainly above the average. The skipper had the
provisioning of the ship, and, being a just man, he
did not do as so many would have done under the
same circumstances: starve the men to fatten his
own pocket. What with the decent meals, and
the masterfulness of the bo'sun, she was a contented
ship, and more work was done in a day on board
than I have ever seen before or since. As usual
on this passage, fine weather prevailed, the wind
being so steady that for days together we never<span class="pagenum">[115]</span>
touched a brace. This was taken advantage of by
the skipper to practically refit the ship, all hands
being kept at work all day long splicing, turning-in
blocks, serving shrouds, fitting new running-gear,
and doing rigger's work generally. At
night they all slept, with the exception of the
helmsman, the look-out man, the officer of the
watch and a boy, who had to keep near the officer
to carry his commands to the sleepers should the
need arise. Really I was kept so constantly at
work that, for all I saw of the sea and its marvels,
I might as well have been ashore. Except at
night, and then I was always half asleep through
getting so little legitimate opportunity for rest.</p>
<p>Twenty-eight days flew rapidly past without
a single incident worth noting, the same blue sky
overhead, and steady breeze astern, until one
morning the beautiful shores of Jamaica loomed
up ahead. A few hours later we sailed in between
the points of a sheltering coral reef to an anchorage
in the pretty little harbour of Falmouth,
pompously announcing our arrival by the firing
of a four-pounder gun as the anchor was dropped.
While we were furling sails and clearing up the
decks, visitors were arriving from the four vessels
in harbour as well as from the shore, so that by the
time work was over our decks were thronged. The
skipper seemed a prime favourite here, judging by
the number of people who came to see him and
congratulate him upon his new command—the
largest vessel that had yet entered the little port.
There were high times forrard as well as aft, for
canoe-loads of good things were brought, and all<span class="pagenum">[116]</span>
hands invested recklessly on credit, forgetting that
as yet they had no money owing to them by the
ship. Not only eatables but sundry bottles of
new rum made their appearance, which potent
fluid soon made things exceedingly lively in the
fo'lk'sle. Matters culminated, of course, in a free
fight, which so alarmed me that I crept into a
corner under the heel of the bowsprit, out of
the way of the revellers. There I went to sleep
so soundly that it was morning when I again
emerged at the hoarse cry of the boatswain calling
us to "turn to."</p>
<p>The darkies here were even merrier than my
old friends of Demerara. Such a jovial, musical
lot I never saw. Living from hand to mouth on
the coarsest food, and with the oddest assortment
of rags for clothing possible to be imagined, they
really seemed to be perfectly happy. The feeblest
joke was sufficient to send them into convulsions
of laughter, and the gift of an old shirt or pair of
pants would keep them on the broad grin for a
couple of days. My life was so consistently miserable
from harsh treatment, that I continually envied
them their careless existence, wondering all
the time how they managed to be so jolly under
what I often saw to be painful circumstances. To
crown my misfortunes I fell ill. After suffering
for two or three days, I was sent ashore to hospital.
Then I was thankful for what I had thought the
climax of my misery. For in the hospital I was
allowed to do pretty well as I liked. There was
no discipline, no rule of any kind. The doctor, as
we called him (I think he must have been the dis<span class="pagenum">[117]</span>penser),
was a mulatto, or quadroon, with a comical
notion of his vast importance, but a kindly
young fellow enough. Sometimes I had medicine;
but only by accident, I believe. At any
rate, I soon got better, and rambled about the
great building or played on the beach outside with
the darky boys of about my own age, forgetting
that such a place as the <i>Bonanza's</i> fo'lk'sle existed.
At last I began to hope that the captain had forgotten
my existence, having some dim idea, I suppose,
that I might be allowed to spend an indefinite
time in this pleasant way. But I was to be
rudely undeceived. One day, when I was presiding
with much importance over a game at
cricket (much I knew about it), with twenty or
thirty youngsters of almost as many shades of
colour around me, I suddenly heard my captain
calling me, with an angry note in his voice that
boded me no good. He had come up from the
town to inquire about me, and had caught me unaware.
"You lazy young sodjer!" he cried,
"this is how sick you are, is it? I'll give you a
lesson for this! Get down to the boat!" The
thought of returning to the ship was so terrible
to me that I actually dared to ask him to let me go—to
discharge me. In a voice that shook with
fear and anxiety I told him how I had been treated,
and implored him not to take me back with him.
I believe he was half-melted, but his anger at what
he thought was my skulking got the better of him.
"Serve you very well right," he said. "I'll give
you a rope's-ending myself when I've got time.
Now be off with you, straight down to the boat."<span class="pagenum">[118]</span>
With that he strode on to the hospital, while I,
feeling as if I was going to the scaffold, trudged
through the sand down to the landing-place. In
about an hour he returned, but said no word more
to me as the boat danced over the wavelets back
to that hateful prison. It was "knock-off" time,
and I busied myself in sweeping up decks with all
the alacrity I could muster, until I was free to
fetch my many masters their tea from the galley.
They hailed me with many sarcastic queries after
my health, and the noble time they supposed I had
enjoyed ashore at their expense, commiserating
Ben exceedingly for having been obliged to do my
work, as they said, while I had been loafing ashore.
Happily I got over the evening without anything
worse than hard words being thrown at me.
Some grievance or another had excited the anger
of a big Irishman, and he soon monopolized all attention
by a recital of his wrongs. It appeared
that the bo'sun had "got a down on him," in his
opinion; but if the bo'sun thought that he, Mike,
was going to be played with, that was just where
he was all adrift. He, Mike, was a blank Fenian,
so he was, an' he'd just shwim in blood before he
was put upon by any blank dock-walloper that
ever mooched around Blackwall, so he would. In
the fervour of his harangue he omitted to notice
how he had raised his voice; but he was presently
reminded of it by the voice of the bo'sun at the
fo'lk'sle door, calling, "Mike, I want you a minute!"
There was complete silence in a moment,
which reigned until the bo'sun repeated his words,
with the quiet addition, "You don't want me to<span class="pagenum">[119]</span>
fetch you out, I s'pose?" Then Mike protested
feebly that it was his watch below, that he was having
his supper, that various reasons, in fact, prevented
him from emerging. Like a tiger the bo'sun
leapt into the crowded space. There was a
medley of arms, heads, and legs, a hubbub of inarticulate
noises, but out of it all the bo'sun and
Mike emerged on deck. How they got there, I
don't believe any one knew. I heard the bo'sun
imploring Mike to stand up to him like a man,
and Mike piteously reminding him that he was by
no means his match, that he was twenty years older
(which was nearly true). "Very well, then," said
the boss, "not so much of your slack next time.
If you're an old man, behave like one, an' don't
open your mouth so wide, in case anybody jumps
down your throat." There was peace after that.
Not even a word was said to me when I ventured
to crawl into the raffle of rags which was my bunk.</p>
<p>At daylight next morning all hands were called
to get under way. In the cabin the skipper had
been entertaining a large party of friends, who had
been keeping up an extensive carouse all night.
Uproariously they departed their several ways as
we toiled at the windlass, while boats from all the
other vessels in port came and fastened on to us
to assist us out from between the reefs. Such aid
was absolutely necessary unless the miserably slow
method of warping out by a kedge-anchor was resorted
to. For in these West Indian ports there
is invariably, during the night, a gentle air from
the land, which soon after daybreak dies away to
a complete calm, lasting perhaps an hour, and suc<span class="pagenum">[120]</span>ceeded
by the invigorating "doctor," or sea-breeze.
This latter soon gathers strength and
blows more or less forcibly all day long. In consequence
of this it becomes imperative to gain an
offing before the "doctor" begins, in order that
the vessel may be able to fetch off the land in the
teeth of an increasing breeze.</p>
<p>Having assisted us to get about two miles out,
the boats cast off from us, and with many hearty
farewells returned to port, taking with them our
pilot. A stark calm succeeded as usual, during
which all hands lounged about and whistled for a
breeze, until some of the keener observers noticed
that the strong undertow was sweeping us rapidly
towards a long spit of sand that stretched seaward,
about three miles to the northward of us. Presently
the mate's anxiety constrained him to approach
the captain, who, with flushed face and abstracted
air, was pacing the poop, and suggest
that the anchors might be prepared for letting go.
Strange to say, the skipper received this hint with
a bad grace, answering his officer so abruptly and
angrily that his words were distinctly audible all
over the ship. The mate, whose age and experience,
apart from his other undeniably good qualities,
entitled him to very different treatment,
bowed and retired, evidently much hurt. A short
period of silence followed, while the vessel, her
sails hanging as if carved in stone, and her hull
motionless, as if in dry dock, was being carried
along over the now visible coral bottom at the rate
of nearly four knots an hour. At last the bo'sun,
unable to contain himself, strode up to the cap<span class="pagenum">[121]</span>tain
and said boldly, "Cap'n——, if you don't
anchor this ship'll be ashore in another ten minutes."
"Get off my poop, you impudent rascal!
How dare you come an' speak to me like that!
For two pins I'd put you in irons. D'ye think I
don't know my duty? I never heard such cheek
in my life!" and he stamped with fury. But the
bo'sun simply said, "Well, don't you say you
wasn't warned, that's all," and, turning on his
heel, left the angry, unreasonable man to himself.
By this time all hands were fully possessed of the
idea that only a miracle could save the ship, for
the reef seemed to be actually touching the keel
through the clear water which was carrying us so
swiftly over it. And the idea of the vessel's loss
filled me with unholy joy. No one could realize
how terribly I dreaded the homeward passage,
and, now that deliverance seemed so near, I could
hardly restrain my feelings. Slinking into the
empty forecastle, I waited breathlessly for the
crash I felt sure was imminent. It came, a long
grinding sensation, like a boat grounding on a
pebbly beach magnified a thousand times. Almost
delirious, I danced about the place, in the
middle of which unpardonable exercise I was discovered
by the bo'sun. Outraged beyond speech,
he dealt me one savage kick, which put all dancing
out of my power for many a day, and for the present
stretched me motionless on the deck. Not,
however, to lie there long, for hearing my name
shouted outside, I dragged myself up, mustering
all my energy, and hobbled off to obey the call before
some worse thing should befall me.<span class="pagenum">[122]</span></p>
<p>I found all hands toiling like ants, getting out
anchors and hawsers, and doing all that experience
could suggest to free the vessel from the position
of danger into which she had been brought so
recklessly. But the calm was over, the sea-breeze
had commenced, and was increasing so fast that
already the hitherto placid sea was beginning to
foam. Breakers, too, born of the jagged reef so
close to the surface, were rolling in steadily, although
as yet they were of puny height and
weight. Being at so short a distance from the port
we had left, our plight was plainly visible to those
on shore. Consequently, in a couple of hours,
every boat of sufficient size in the place was alongside.
Scores of willing hands plied every means by
which good might be done, but the steady increase
in wind and sea, driving directly shoreward,
mocked all efforts at heaving the ship off. There
were no steam vessels either in Falmouth or the adjacent
ports, so that, when every purchase that
could be got upon the anchors and cables laid out
astern was brought to a standstill, that branch
of the work was perforce abandoned.</p>
<p>Then the cargo was attacked at all three
hatches, everybody working as if their very lives
depended upon their labours. The negroes especially
seemed to regard the whole affair as a gigantic
spree, for without abating one jot of their labours,
they yelled, sang, danced about, and behaved
generally like a pack of schoolboys just let
loose without any supervision. As the day wore
on the wind increased to a strong gale, and the
rollers attained so formidable a height that at<span class="pagenum">[123]</span>
times they lifted the vessel bodily from her jagged
bed of rock, letting her fall again with a crash that
threatened to shake all her stout timbers apart.
After each of these blows she seemed to slide seawards
a little, but all her buoyancy was gone—the
stern went down at an increasing angle, and the
water rose in the hold so freely that it was evident
there were some serious gaps in the hull. Still
the work went on. Drogher after drogher left us
filled with salvage, while others crowded as near
as they dared to receive the bags, cases and bundles,
that were constantly being hurled overside.
By nightfall all our own crew were worn out, and
transferred to one of the small craft which clung to
our side receiving the salved cargo. Each man
secured what he could of his poor belongings, but
I, being unable in the scramble and confusion to
get hold of the few rags composing my stock of
clothing, contented myself with carrying off an
old wide-awake hat containing five blind kittens.
The anxious mother kept me close company, much
to the amusement of the toiling darkies.</p>
<p>All through the night the wind maintained a
most unusual force, and hour by hour the work
of salvage became increasingly difficult. Every
package had to be dived for into the blackness of
the hold, which was quite full of water up to the
hatch-coamings. Great torches of tarred rope,
lashed to conspicuous points, roared and flared in
the gale. By their uncertain glare the black toilers
darted hither and thither with astounding energy
and a deafening incessant tumult of wild
song. Every one was mother-naked, and their<span class="pagenum">[124]</span>
ebony skins shone like those of a school of gambolling
porpoises. At each tremendous lift and
heave of the doomed vessel all hands would make
a frantic rush to the side, leaping with blood-curdling
yells into the waiting droghers. But the instant
it was seen that she yet survived the shock,
back they all came and attacked the cargo with renewed
vigour. At last a bigger breaker than ever
came along, rearing its hoary crest against the
paling sky. Reaching the vessel, it enwrapped her
in masses of shining foam, lifting her at the same
time with such power that for half a minute she
seemed all afloat. As it receded, the ill-used hulk,
as if loth to leave its embrace, slid along the reef
with a rending crash, nor stopped until all that remained
visible of her was the jibboom, pointing
upward to the sky like a warning beacon. In the
whirl of weltering foam left by her sudden exit, the
droghers danced like mad things, all having been
cut adrift as the yelling crowd sprang from the
sinking ship. As nothing more could possibly be
done for the present, the little fleet made sail, and
stood in towards the town with their spoil. In
every conceivable and inconceivable position the
utterly wearied negroes lay about asleep, regardless
of the flying spray or such minor inconveniences
as being trampled upon by the crews. I
found a snug corner out of everybody's way, and
there, cuddling my cats, I, too, fell into sweet oblivion.
When I awoke, the vessel was just taking
the beach in front of the town. The sun was only
just rising, but all the population of Falmouth appeared
to be there, and intensely solicitous for
<span class="pagenum">[125]</span>
our welfare. We were immediately taken to the
"hotel," only a few hundred yards away, and all
manner of creature comforts pressed upon us with
kindly persistence, as if we had been adrift for a
month. Suddenly I realized that I was quite a
centre of attraction—the fact of my having rescued
the kittens appearing to appeal to all the visitors
in a way that I should hardly have believed
possible. But, indeed, our reception generally
was so kind that we were all in danger of being
spoiled. Within the memory of the oldest inhabitant
no wreck of such importance had occurred
near the port, and consequently, I suppose, we
reaped the benefit of long-suppressed benevolence.</p>
<p class="spacer"> </p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="illo_124" id="illo_124"></SPAN> <ANTIMG border="0" src="images/illo_146.jpg" alt="146" /></div>
<p class="caption">At each tremendous lift and heave of the doomed vessel all hands
would make a frantic rush to the side.</p>
<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[126]</span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />