The Survivors of the Chancellor (11 page)

*

NIGHT of December 4. — Curtis caught young Letourneur
again in his arms, and, running with him across the flooded
deck, deposited him safely in the starboard shrouds, whither
his father and I climbed up beside him.

I now had time to look about me. The night was not
very dark, and I could see that Curtis had returned to his
post upon the poop; while in the extreme aft near the taffrail, which was still above water, I could distinguish the
forms of Mr. and Mrs. Kear, Miss Herbey, and Mr. Falsten. The lieutenant and the boatswain were on the far end
of the forecastle; the remainder of the crew in the shrouds
and top-masts.

By the assistance of his father, who carefully guided his
feet up the rigging, Andre was hoisted into the main-top.
Mrs. Kear could not be induced to join him in his elevated
position, in spite of being told that if the wind were to
freshen she would inevitably be washed overboard by the
waves; nothing could induce her to listen to remonstrances,
and she insisted upon remaining on the poop — Miss Herbey,
of course, staying by her side.

As soon as the captain saw the Chancellor was no longer
sinking, he set to work to take down all the sails — yards and
all — and the top-gallants, in the hope that by removing
everything that could compromise the equilibrium of the
ship he might diminish the chance of her capsizing altogether.

"But may she not founder at any moment?" I said to
Curtis, when I had joined him for a while upon the poop.

"Everything depends upon the weather," he replied, in
his calmest manner; "that, of course, may change at any
hour. One thing, however, is certain, the Chancellor preserves her equilibrium for the present."

"But do you mean to say," I further asked, "that she can
sail with two feet of water over her deck?"

"No, Mr. Kazallon, she can't sail, but she can drift with
the wind; and if the wind remains in its present quarter, in
the course of a few days we might possibly sight the coast.
Besides, we shall have our raft as a last resource; in a few
hours it will be ready, and at daybreak we can embark."

"You have not, then," I added, "abandoned all hope
even yet?" I marveled at his composure.

"While there's life there's hope, you know, Mr. Kazallon;
out of a hundred chances, ninety-nine may be against us,
but perhaps the odd one may be in our favor. Besides, I
believe that our case is not without precedent. In the year
1795, a three-master, the Juno, was precisely in the same
half-sunk, water-logged condition as ourselves; and yet, with
her passengers and crew clinging to her top-masts, she
drifted for twenty days, until she came in sight of land,
when those who had survived the deprivation and fatigue
were saved. So let us not despair; let us hold on to the
hope that the survivors of the Chancellor may be equally
fortunate."

I was only too conscious that there was not much to be
said in support of Curtis's sanguine view of things, and that
the force of reason pointed all the other way; but I said
nothing, deriving what comfort I could from the fact that
the captain did not yet despond of an ultimate rescue.

As it was necessary to be prepared to abandon the ship
almost at a moment's notice, Dowlas was making every
exertion to hurry on the construction of the raft. A little
before midnight he was on the point of conveying some
planks for this purpose, when, to his astonishment and
horror, he found that the framework had totally disappeared. The ropes that had attached it to the vessel had
snapped as she became vertically displaced, and probably it
had been adrift for more than an hour.

The crew were frantic at this new misfortune, and shouting "Overboard with the masts!" they began to cut down
the rigging preparatory to taking possession of the masts
for a new raft.

But here Curtis interposed:

"Back to your places, my men; back to your places. The
ship will not sink yet, so don't touch a rope until I give you
leave."

The firmness of the captain's voice brought the men to
their senses, and although some of them could ill disguise
their reluctance, all returned to their posts.

When daylight had sufficiently advanced Curtis mounted
the mast, and looked around for the missing raft; but it was
nowhere to be seen. The sea was far too rough for the men
to venture to take out the whale-boat in search of it, and
there was no choice but to set to work and to construct a
new raft immediately.

Since the sea has become so much rougher, Mrs. Kear has
been induced to leave the poop, and has managed to join M.
Letourneur and his son on the main-top, where she lies in a
state of complete prostration. I need hardly add that Miss
Herbey continues in her unwearied attendance. The space
to which these four people are limited is necessarily very
small, nowhere measuring twelve feet across: to prevent
them losing their balance some spars have been lashed from
shroud to shroud, and for the convenience of the two ladies
Curtis has contrived to make a temporary awning of a sail.
Mr. Kear has installed himself with Silas Huntly on the
foretop.

A few cases of preserved meat and biscuit and some
barrels of water, that floated between the masts after the
submersion of the deck, have been hoisted to the top-mast
and fastened firmly to the stays. These are now our only
provisions.

Chapter XXVI - Mr. Kear Makes a Business Deal
*

DECEMBER 5. — The day was very hot. December in latitude 16 deg. N. is a summer month, and unless a breeze should
rise to temper the burning sun, we might expect to suffer
from an oppressive heat.

The sea still remained very rough, and as the heavy waves
broke over the ship as though she were a reef, the foam flew
up to the very top-masts, and our clothes were perpetually
drenched by the spray.

The Chancellor's hull is three-fourths immerged; besides
the three masts and the bowsprit, to which the whale-boat
was suspended, the poop and the forecastle are the only portions that now are visible; and as the intervening section of
the deck is quite below the water, these appear to be connected only by the framework of the netting that runs along
the vessel's sides. Communication between the top-masts is
extremely difficult, and would be absolutely precluded, were
it not that the sailors, with practiced dexterity, manage to
hoist themselves about by means of the stays. For the passengers, cowering on their narrow and unstable platform,
the spectacle of the raging sea below was truly terrific;
every wave that dashed over the ship shook the masts till
they trembled again, and one could venture scarcely to look
or to think lest he should be tempted to cast himself into the
vast abyss.

Meanwhile, the crew worked away with all their remaining vigor at the second raft, for which the top-gallants and
yards were all obliged to be employed; the planks, too, which
were continually being loosened and broken away by the
violence of the waves from the partitions of the ship, were
rescued before they had drifted out of reach, and were
brought into use. The symptoms of the ship foundering
did not appear to be immediate; so that Curtis insisted upon
the raft being made with proper care to insure its strength;
we were still several hundred miles from the coast of Guiana,
and for so long a voyage it was indispensable to have a structure of considerable solidity. The reasonableness of this
was self-apparent, and as the crew had recovered their assurance they spared no pains to accomplish their work effectually.

Of all the number, there was but one, an Irishman, named
O'Ready, who seemed to question the utility of all their toil.
He shook his head with an oracular gravity. He is an oldish man, not less than sixty, with his hair and beard bleached
with the storms of many travels. As I was making my way
toward the poop, he came up to me and began talking.

"And why, bedad, I'd like to know, why is it that they'll
all be afther lavin' the ship?"

He turned his quid with the most serene composure, and
continued:

"And isn't it me myself that's been wrecked nine times
already? and sure, poor fools are they that ever have put
their trust in rafts or boats; sure and they found a wathery
grave. Nay, nay; while the ould ship lasts, let's stick to her,
says I."

Having thus unburdened his mind he relapsed into silence, and soon went away.

About three o'clock I noticed that Mr. Kear and Silas
Huntly were holding an animated conversation in the foretop. The petroleum merchant had evidently some difficulty
in bringing the ex-captain round to his opinion, for I saw
him several times shake his head as he gave long and scrutinizing looks at the sea and sky. In less than an hour afterward I saw Huntly let himself down by the forestays and
clamber along to the fore-castle, where he joined the group
of sailors, and I lost sight of him.

I attached little importance to the incident, and shortly
afterward joined the party in the main-top, where we continued talking for some hours. The heat was intense, and if
it had not been for the shelter afforded by the sail-tent,
would have been unbearable. At five o'clock we took as refreshment some dried meat and biscuit, each individual being also allowed half a glass of water. Mrs. Kear prostrate
with fever, could not touch a mouthful; and nothing could
be done by Miss Herbey to relieve her, beyond occasionally
moistening her parched lips. The unfortunate lady suffers
greatly, and sometimes I am inclined to think that she will
succumb to the exposure and privation. Not once had her
husband troubled himself about her; but when shortly afterward I heard him hail some of the sailors on the fore-castle
and ask them to help him down from the foretop, I began
to think that the selfish fellow was coming to join his wife.

At first the sailors took no notice of his request, but on
his repeating it with the promise of paying them handsomely
for their services, two of them, Burke and Sandon, swung
themselves along the netting into the shrouds, and were soon
at his side.

A long discussion ensued. The men evidently were asking more than Mr. Kear was inclined to give, and at one
time it seemed as though the negotiation would fall through
altogether. But at length the bargain was struck, and I saw
Mr. Kear take a bundle of paper dollars from his waistcoat
pocket, and hand a number of them over to one of the men.
The man counted them carefully, and from the time it took
him, I should think that he could not have pocketed anything
less than a hundred dollars.

The next business was to get Mr. Kear down from the
foretop, and Burke and Sandon proceeded to tie a rope
round his waist, which they afterward fastened to the forestay; then, in a way which provoked shouts of laughter from
their mates, they gave the unfortunate man a shove, and sent
him rolling down like a bundle of dirty clothes on to the
forecastle.

I was quite mistaken as to his object. Mr. Kear had no
intention of looking after his wife, but remained by the side
of Silas Huntly until the gathering darkness hid them both
from view.

As night drew on, the wind grew calmer, but the sea remained very rough. The moon had been up ever since four
in the afternoon, though she only appeared at rare intervals
between the clouds. Some long lines of vapor on the horizon were tinged with a rosy glare that foreboded a strong
breeze for the morrow, and all felt anxious to know from
which quarter the breeze would come, for any but a northeaster would bear the frail raft on which we were to embark
far away from land.

About eight o'clock in the evening, Curtis mounted to the
main-top, but he seemed preoccupied and anxious, and did
not speak to anyone. He remained for a quarter of an
hour, then after silently pressing my hand, he returned to
his old post.

I laid myself down in the narrow space at my disposal,
and tried to sleep; but my mind was filled with strange forebodings, and sleep was impossible. The very calmness of
the atmosphere was oppressive; scarcely a breath of air
vibrated through the metal rigging, and yet the sea rose with
a heavy swell as though it felt the warnings of a coming
tempest.

All at once, at about eleven o'clock, the moon burst
brightly forth through a rift in the clouds, and the waves
sparkled again as if illuminated by a submarine glimmer. I
start up and look around me. Is it merely imagination? or
do I really see a black speck floating, on the dazzling whiteness of the waters, a speck that cannot be a rock, because
it rises and falls with the heaving motion of the billows?
But the moon once again becomes overclouded; the sea is
darkened, and I return to my uneasy couch close to the larboard shrouds.

Chapter XXVII - The Whale-Boat Missing
*

DECEMBER 6. — I must have fallen asleep for a few hours,
when, at four o'clock in the morning, I was rudely aroused
by the roaring of the wind, and could distinguish Curtis's
voice as he shouted in the brief intervals between the heavy
gusts.

I got up, and holding tightly to the purlin — for the waves
made the masts tremble with their violence — I tried to look
around and below me. The sea was literally raging beneath,
and great masses of livid-looking foam were dashing between the masts, which were oscillating terrifically. It was
still dark, and I could only faintly distinguish two figures
in the stern, whom, by the sound of their voices, that I
caught occasionally above the tumult, I made out to be
Curtis and the boatswain.

Just at that moment a sailor, who had mounted to the
main-top to do something to the rigging, passed close behind me.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"The wind has changed," he answered, adding something
which I could not hear distinctly, but which sounded like
"dead against us."

Dead against us! then. thought I, the wind had shifted to
the southwest, and my last night's forebodings had been
correct.

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