James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and Afloat Read online

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  THE "BARBARA" ON FIRE.

  We had got our decks caulked, our rigging set up, and other repairsfinished, when, one forenoon, O'Carroll, who had at length ventured onshore, returned in a great hurry with the information that there wasmuch bustle on board the _Mignonne_, and that her people were evidentlyhurrying to the utmost to get ready for sea. Had Captain Hassallfollowed his own inclinations, he would have given the piraticalFrenchman the opportunity of trying his strength with the _Barbara_; butas that would have been decidedly objected to by Garrard, Janrin andCompany, we, with the whaler and her prize, and another English vessel,cleared out as secretly as we could, and, with a fair breeze, put tosea. We had to lay to for the other vessels, and after they had joinedus Captain Brown hailed us, to say that the look-out from hismain-topgallant mast-head had seen a large ship coming out of theharbour under all sail, and that he thought it possible she might be the_Mignonne_. As, however, a mist had soon afterwards arisen, she wasconcealed from sight. We promised, however, to stand to the northwardwith Captain Brown during the night, and in the morning, should no enemybe in sight, let him and his consorts proceed on their voyage homewards,while we kept on our course for the Cape of Good Hope. Nothing couldhave given our people greater satisfaction than to have found theFrenchman close to us at daybreak. I spent most of the night in writingletters home, to send by the whaler. When morning dawned, not a sail,except our own little squadron, was to be seen. We kept company tillnoon, and then, with mutual good wishes, stood away on our respectivecourses. We hoped that the _Mignonne_ would follow the _Barbara_ ratherthan our friends, should she really have sailed in chase of any of us.The possibility of our being pursued created much excitement on board.At early dawn, till the evening threw its mantle over the ocean, we hadvolunteers at the mastheads looking out for a strange sail. At the endof four or five days all expectation of again meeting with the_Mignonne_ ceased, somewhat to the disappointment of most of the crew,who were wonderfully full of fight. Having beaten the Frenchman once,they were very sure that they could beat him again. We had other goodreasons for having our eyes about us--first, to avoid in time any foetoo big to tackle; and then, as we had the right to capture any Spanishvessels we might fall in with, to keep a look-out for them. However,the ocean is very broad, and though we chased several vessels, they allproved to be Portuguese. After sighting the little rocky and thenuninhabited island of Tristan da Cunha, we made the Cape of Good Hope,and, entering Table Bay, dropped our anchor off Capetown.

  The colony had lately been recaptured from the Dutch by Sir David Bairdand Sir Home Popham, with a well-appointed force of 5,000 men. The twoarmies met on the plain at the foot of Table Mountain; but scarcely hadthe action been commenced by General Ferguson, at the head of theHighland brigade, than the wise Hollanders, considering that the Englishwere likely to prove as good masters as the French, retreated, and soonafter offered to capitulate, which they were allowed to do with all thehonours of war. The Dutch, French, and English were now living on veryfriendly terms with each other. The Cape colony, with its clean,well-laid-out English capital, its Table Mountain and Table Cloth, itsvineyards, its industrious and sturdy Boers, its Hottentot slaves, andits warlike Kaffirs, is too well-known to require a description. I dida good deal of trading--a matter of private interest to Garrard, Janrinand Company, so I will not speak of it. The ship was put to rights, weenjoyed ourselves very much on shore, and were once more at sea. Strongeasterly winds drove us again into the Atlantic, and when we hadsucceeded in beating back to the latitude of Capetown, the weather,instead of improving, looked more threatening than ever. I had heard ofthe peculiar swell off the Cape, but I had formed no conception of theimmense undulations I now beheld. They came rolling on slow andmajestically, solid-looking, like mountains of malachite, heaving up ourstout ship as if she were a mere chip of deal cast on the face of theocean. We were alone on the waste of waters, no other objects in sightbesides these huge green masses, which, as the clouds gathered, wereevery instant becoming of a darker and more leaden hue.

  "We shall get a breeze soon, and I hope that it will be from the rightquarter for us," I remarked to Benjie Stubbs, the second mate, who hadcharge of the deck.

  "We shall have a breeze, and more than we want, Pusser," (intended forPurser, a name Benjie always persisted in giving me), he answered,glancing round the horizon. "You've not seen anything like this before,eh? A man must come to sea to know what's what. There are strangesights on the ocean."

  "So I have always heard," I remarked.

  "Yes, you'd have said so if you had been on deck last night in themiddle watch," he observed, in a low tone.

  "How so? what happened?" I asked.

  "Why, just this," he answered. "There was not more wind than there isnow, and the sky was clear, with a slice of a moon shining brightly,when, just as I was looking along its wake, what did I see but afull-rigged, old-fashioned ship, under all sail, bearing down towards usat a tremendous rate. When she got within a couple of hundred fathomsof us she hove-to and lowered a boat. I guessed well enough what shewas, so, running forward, I cast loose one of the guns and pointed atthe boat. They aboard the stranger knew what I was after; the boat washoisted in again, and away she went right in the teeth of the wind."

  "Did you see this last night?" I asked, looking the mate in the face."I should like to speak to some of the men who saw it at the same time."

  "I don't say all saw it. You may ask those who did, and you won't get adifferent story from what I've told you," he replied.

  "And what think you was the ship you saw?" I asked.

  "The _Flying Dutchman_, of course, and no manner of doubt about thematter," he answered promptly. [Note 1.] "If you had been on thelook-out you would have seen him as clearly as I did. Remember, Pusser,if you ever fall in with him, don't let him come aboard, that's all.He'll send you to the bottom as surely as if a red-hot shot was to bedropped into the hold."

  "Who is this _Flying Dutchman_?" I asked, wishing to humour Benjie bypretending to believe his story.

  "Why, as to that, there are two opinions," he answered, as if he wasspeaking of authenticated facts. "Some say that he was an honesttrader, that he was bound in for Table Bay, when he was ordered off bythe authorities, and that, putting to sea, he was lost; others say thathe was a piratical gentleman, and that on one occasion, when short ofprovisions, being driven off the land by contrary winds, he swore agreat oath that he would beat about till the day of doom, but that getin he would. He and all his crew died of starvation, but the oath hasbeen kept; and when gales are threatening, or mischief of any kindbrewing, he is to be met with, trying in vain to accomplish his vow."

  I smiled at Benjie's account, whereat he pretended to look veryindignant, as if I had doubted his veracity. I afterwards madeinquiries among the seamen. Two or three asserted that they hadwitnessed an extraordinary sight during the night, but they all differedconsiderably in their accounts. It may be supposed that they weretrying to practise on the credulity of a greenhorn. My belief is thatthey really fancied that they had seen what they described.

  The clouds grew thicker and thicker till they got as black as ink. Thesea became of a dark leaden hue, and the swell increased in height, sothat when we sank down into the intermediate valley, we could not seefrom the deck beyond the watery heights on either side of us.

  "Ah, the skipper is right; we shall have it before long, hot andfurious."

  This remark, made by Benjie Stubbs, followed the captain's order to senddown all our lighter spars, and to make everything secure on deck, aswell as below. The ship was scarcely made snug before the tempest brokeon us. The high, smooth rollers were now torn and wrenched asunder asit were, their summits wreathed with masses of foam, which curled overas they advanced against the wind, and breaking into fragments, blew offin masses of snowy whiteness to leeward. I scarcely thought that afabric formed by human hands could have sustained the rude shocks weencoun
tered till the ship was got on her course, and we were able toscud before the gale. Often the sea rose up like a dead wall, andseemed as if it must fall over our deck and send us to the bottom. Thescene was trying in the daytime, but still more so when darkness coveredthe face of the deep, and it needed confidence in the qualities of ourship, and yet greater in God's protecting power, not to feel overcomewith dread. There was a grandeur in the spectacle which kept me ondeck, and it was not till after the steward had frequently summoned meto supper that I could tear myself from it. Curious was the change tothe well-lighted, handsome cabin, with the supper things securely placedbetween fiddles and puddings [Note 1.] on the swing table. The firstmate had charge of the deck. Stubbs was busily employed fortifying hisnerves. "You now know, Pusser, what a gale off the Cape is," heobserved, looking up with his mouth half full of beef and biscuit.

  "Yes, indeed," said I. "Fine weather, too, for your friend the_Dutchman_ to be cruising."

  "Ay, and likely enough we shall see him, too," he answered. "It wasjust such a night as this, some five years back, that we fell in withhim off here; and our consort, as sound a ship as ever left the Thames,with all hands, was lost. It's my belief that he put a boat aboard herby one of his tricks." I saw Captain Hassall and Irby exchange glances.Stubbs was getting on his favourite subject.

  "Well, now, I've doubled this Cape a dozen times or more, and have neveryet once set eyes on this Dutch friend of yours, Benjie," exclaimedO'Carroll. "Mind you call me if we sight his craft; I should like to`ya, ya' a little with him, and just ask him where he comes from, andwhat he's about, and maybe if I put the question in a civil way I'll geta civil answer." By-the-bye, Captain Hassall and I had been so wellpleased with O'Carroll, and so satisfied as to his thorough knowledge ofthe regions we were about to visit and the language of the people, thatwe had retained him on board as supernumerary mate.

  "Don't you go and speak to him now, if you value the safety of the ship,or our lives," exclaimed Stubbs, in a tone of alarm. "You don't knowwhat trick he'll play you if you do. Let such gentry alone, say I."

  We all laughed at the second mate's earnestness, though I cannot saythat all the rest of those present disbelieved in the existence of thecondemned _Dutchman_. The state of the atmosphere, the strange, wild,awful look of the ocean, prepared our minds for the appearance ofanything supernatural. The captain told me that I looked ill and tiredfrom having been on deck so many hours, and insisted on my turning in,which I at length unwillingly did.

  In spite of the upheaving motion of the ship, and the peculiar sensationas she rushed down the watery declivity into the deep valley between theseas, I fell asleep. The creaking of the bulkheads, the whistling ofthe wind in the rigging, the roaring of the seas, and their constantdash against the sides, were never out of my ears, and oftentimes Ifancied that I was on deck witnessing the tumult of the ocean--now thatthe _Flying Dutchman_ was in sight, now that our own good ship wassinking down overwhelmed by the raging seas.

  "Mr Stubbs wants you on deck, sir; she's in sight, sir, he says, she'sin sight," I heard a voice say, while I felt my elbow shaken. Thespeaker was Jerry Nott, our cabin-boy. I slipped on my clothes,scarcely knowing what I was about.

  "What o'clock is it?" I asked. "Gone two bells in the morning watch,"he answered. I sprang on deck. The dawn had broke. The wind blew ashard as ever. The sky and sea were of a leaden grey hue, the only spotsof white were the foaming crests of the seas and our closely-reefedforetop sails. "There, there! Do you see her now?" asked Stubbs,pointing ahead. As we rose to the top of a giant sea I could justdiscover in the far distance, dimly seen amid the driving spray, themasts of a ship, with more canvas set than I should have supposed wouldhave been shown to such a gale. While I was looking I saw another shipnot far beyond the first. We were clearly nearing them.

  "What do you think of that?" asked Stubbs.

  "That there are two ships making very bad weather of it, Mr Stubbs,"answered the captain, who at that moment had come on deck. He took alook through his glass.

  "She is a large ship--a line-of-battle ship, I suspect," he observed.

  "Looks like one," said Stubbs. "She'll look like something elseby-and-by."

  The rest of the officers had now joined us except Mr Randolph, who hadthe middle watch. We were all watching the strangers together. Now, aswe sank down into the hollow, the masses of spray which blew off fromthe huge sea uprising between us and them, hid them from our sight.Some differed with the captain as to the size of the largest ship. Oneor two thought that she was an Indiaman. However, she was still sodistant, and in the grey dawn so misty-looking and indistinct, that itwas difficult to decide the question. The captain himself was notcertain. "However, we shall soon be able to settle the matter," heobserved, as the _Barbara_, now on the summit of a mountain billow, wasabout to glide down the steep incline. Down, down, we went--it seemedthat we should never be able to climb the opposite height. We were alllooking out for the strangers, expecting to settle the disputed point."Where are they?" burst from the lips of all of us. "Where, where?" Welooked, we rubbed our eyes--no sail was in sight. "I knew it would beso," said Stubbs, in a tone in which I perceived a thrill of horror.O'Carroll asserted that he had caught sight of the masts of a ship as ifsinking beneath the waves.

  "Very likely," observed Stubbs, "that was of the ship he was sending tothe bottom,--the other was the _Dutchman_, and you don't see her now."

  "No, no, they were craft carrying human beings, and they have founderedwithout a chance of one man out of the many hundreds on board beingsaved!" exclaimed the captain.

  Stubbs shook his head as if he doubted it. We careered on towards thespot where the ships had gone down, for that real ships had been thereno doubt could be entertained. A strict look-out was kept for anythingthat might still be floating to prove that we had not been deceived bysome phantom forms. Those on the look-out forward reported an objectahead. "A boat! a boat!" shouted one of them. "No boat could live insuch a sea," observed the captain. He was right. As we approached, wesaw a grating, to which a human being was clinging. It was, when firstseen, on the starboard bow, and it was, alas! evident that we shouldleave him at too great a distance even to heave a rope to which he mightclutch. By his dress he appeared to be a seaman. He must have observedour approach; but he knew well enough that we could make no attempt tosave him. He gazed at us steadily as we glided by--his countenanceseemed calm--he uttered no cry--still he clung to his frail raft. Hecould not make up his mind to yield to death. It was truly a painfulsight. We anxiously watched him till we left the raft to which he stillclung far astern. No other person was seen, but other objects wereseen--floating spars, planks, gratings--to prove that we were near aspot where a tall ship had gone down. "It is better so," observed thecaptain; "unless the sea had cast them on our deck we could not havesaved one of them." We rushed on up and down the watery heights, Stubbsas firmly convinced as ever that the _Flying Dutchman_ had produced thefearful catastrophe we had witnessed. On we went--the gale in no wayabating. I watched the mountain seas till I grew weary of looking atthem; still I learned to feel perfectly secure--a sensation I was atfirst very far from experiencing. Yet much, if not everything, dependedon the soundness of our spars and rigging: a flaw in the wood or ropemight be the cause of our destruction. I went below at meal-time, but Ihurried again on deck, fascinated by the scene, though I would gladlyhave shut it out from my sight. At length, towards night, literallywearied with the exertion of keeping my feet and watching those giantseas, I went below and turned in. I slept, but the huge white-crestedwaves were still rolling before me, and big ships were foundering, andphantom vessels were sailing in the wind's eye, and I heard thebulkheads creaking, the wind whistling, and the waves roaring, as loudlyas if I was awake; only I often assigned a wrong sign to the uproar.Hour after hour this continued, when, as I had at last gone off moresoundly, a crash echoed in my ears, followed by shrieks and cries. Itdid not, however, aw
ake me. It seemed a part of the strange dreams inwhich I was indulging. I thought that the ship had struck on a rock,that I escaped to the shore, had climbed up a lofty cliff, on the summitof which I found a wood fire surrounded by savages. They dragged me toit--I had the most fearful forebodings of what they were about to do.Then I heard the cry, "Fire! fire!" That was a reality--the smell offire was in my nostrils--I started up--I was alone in the cabin. Theship was plunging about in an awful manner. I hurried on my clothes andrushed on deck. Daylight had broke. The ship lately so trim seemed aperfect wreck. The foremast had been carried away, shivered to thedeck, and hung over the bows, from which part of the crew wereendeavouring to clear it. The main and mizen-topmasts had likewise beencarried away. Smoke was coming up the fore hatchway, down which therest of the people were pouring buckets of water. I went forward torender assistance. The foremast had been struck by lightning, and theelectric fluid, after shattering it, had descended into the hold and setthe ship on fire. We worked with the desperation of despair. Shouldthe fire once gain the mastery, no human power could save us. The seawas running as high as ever; it was with difficulty that the ship couldbe kept before it. I exchanged but a few words with my companions; abucket was put into my hands, and I at once saw what I had to do. Thesmoke after a time had decreased, for as yet no flames had burst forth."Now, lads, follow me," cried Randolph, the first officer, leaping belowwith his bucket and an axe in his hand. Irby and four men sprang afterhim. With his axe the mate cut a way to get at the heart of the fire.We handed down buckets to his companions, who kept emptying them roundwhere he was working. The smoke was still stifling. Those below couldscarcely be seen as they worked amidst it. The bulkhead was cutthrough. The seat of the mischief was discovered. Flames were burstingforth, but wet blankets were thrown on them. The buckets were passedrapidly down. The smoke was decreasing. "Hurrah, lads! we shall haveit under!" cried the first mate, in an encouraging tone. We breathedmore freely. The fire was subdued. The peril had indeed been great.We had now to clear the wreck of the mast, which threatened to stave inthe bows. "The gale is breaking," cried the captain, after lookinground the horizon; "cheer up, my lads, and we shall do well!"Encouraged by the captain the men laboured on, though from the violentworking of the ship it was not without great difficulty and danger thatthe mass of spars, ropes, and canvas could be hauled on board or castadrift. As a landsman my assistance was not of much value, though Istood by clinging to the bulwarks, to lend a hand in case I should berequired. While glancing to windward, as I did every now and then, inhopes of seeing signs of the abatement of the gale, I caught sight ofwhat seemed the wing of an albatross, skimming the summit of a tossingsea. I looked again and again. There it still was as at first. Ipointed it out to the captain. "A sail running down towards us," heobserved; "it is to be hoped that she is a friend, for we are in a sorryplight to meet with a foe." The captain's remark made me feel not alittle anxious as to the character of the approaching stranger. After atime it became evident that the wind was really falling. The wreck ofthe mast was at last cleared away, but a calm sea would be requiredbefore we could attempt to get up a jury-mast. We had watched theapproach of the stranger: she was steering directly for us. As she drewnearer I saw O'Carroll examining her narrowly through the glass. "Herecomes the _Flying Dutchman_ again," I observed to Stubbs.

  "Not at all certain that she isn't," he answered, quite in a serioustone.

  "No, she's not that, but she's ten times worse," exclaimed O'Carroll;"she is the _Mignonne_, as I am a seaman, and will be bothering uspretty considerably, depend on that."

  We heartily hoped that he was mistaken, but certainly she was very likethe craft we had seen at Saint Salvador. She passed us as near as theheavy sea still running would allow her to do without danger to herself.A man was standing in the mizen rigging. I caught sight of his facethrough my telescope. I thought that I distinguished a look ofsatisfaction in his countenance as he gazed at us. "That's La Roche; Iknow the villain!" cried O'Carroll; "I thought from what I heard that hewas bound out here. He'll work us ill, depend on that." We now wishedthat the sea had continued to run as high as it had hitherto been doing,when it would have been impossible for the privateer to have boarded us.It was now, however, rapidly going down, though as yet it was too roughto allow her to attempt to run alongside. It was possible that shemight pass us. No! After running on a short distance her yards werebraced sharp up, and she stood back, with the evident intention ofattacking our helpless craft.

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  Note 1. Contrivances to prevent articles falling off a table at sea.

  Note 2. We never hear of the _Flying Dutchman_ now-a-days. The fact isthat he had the monopoly of sailing or going along rather in the teethof the wind. Now steamers have cut him out, and he is fain to hide hisdiminished head.