The Survivors of the Chancellor (22 page)

I could no longer keep my place, and glided along to the
front of the raft. The boatswain was still standing intent
on his watch, but all of a sudden, in a voice that made me
start, he shouted:

"Now then, time's up!" and followed by Dowlas, Burke,
Flaypole, and Sandon, ran to the back of the raft. As
Dowlas seized the hatchet convulsively, Miss Herbey could
not suppress a cry of terror. Andre started to his feet.

"What are you going to do to my father?" he asked in
accents choked with emotion.

"My boy," said M. Letourneur, "the lot has fallen upon
me, and I must die!"

"Never!" shrieked Andre, throwing his arms about his
father. "They shall kill me first. It was I who threw
Hobart's body into the sea, and it is I who ought to die!"
But the words of the unhappy youth had no other effect
than to increase the fury of the men who were so stanchly
bent upon their bloody purpose.

"Come, come, no more fuss," said Dowlas, as he tore
the young man away from his father's embrace.

Andre fell upon his back, in which position two of the
sailors held him down so tightly that he could not move,
while Burke and Sandon carried off their victim to the
front.

All this had taken place much more rapidly than I have
been able to describe it. I was transfixed with horror, and
much as I wished to throw myself between M. Letourneur
and his executioners, I seemed to be rooted to the spot where
I was standing.

Meantime the sailors had been taking off some of M.
Letourneur's clothes, and his neck and shoulders were already bare.

"Stop a moment!" he said in a tone in which was the
ring of indomitable courage. "Stop! I don't want to deprive you of your ration; but I suppose you will not require
to eat the whole of me to-day."

The sailors, taken back by his suggestion, stared at him
with amazement.

"There are ten of you," he went on. "My two arms
will give you each a meal; cut them off for to-day, and tomorrow you shall have the rest of me."

"Agreed!" cried Dowlas; and as M. Letourneur held
out his bare arms, quick as lightning the carpenter raised
his hatchet.

Curtis and I could bear this scene no longer; while we
were alive to prevent it, this butchery should not be permitted, and we rushed forward simultaneously to snatch
the victim from his murderers. A furious struggle ensued,
and in the midst of the melee, I was seized by one of the
sailors, and hurled violently into the sea.

Closing my lips, I tried to die of suffocation in the water;
but in spite of myself, my mouth opened, and a few drops
trickled down my throat.

Merciful Heaven! the water was fresh!

JANUARY 27 continued. — A change came over me as if
by miracle. No longer had I any wish to die, and already
Curtis, who had heard my cries, was throwing me a rope.
I seized it eagerly, and was hauled up on to the raft.

"Fresh water!" were the first words I uttered.

"Fresh water?" cried Curtis; "why then, my friends,
we are not far from land!"

It was not too late: the blow had not been struck, and so
the victim had not yet fallen. Curtis and Andre (who had
regained his liberty) had fought with the cannibals, and it
was just as they were yielding to over-powering numbers
that my voice had made itself heard.

The struggle came to an end. As soon as the words
"fresh water" had escaped my lips, I leaned over the side
of the raft and swallowed the life-giving liquid in greedy
draughts. Miss Herbey was the first to follow my example,
but soon Curtis, Falsten, and all the rest were on their knees
and drinking eagerly. The rough sailors seemed as if by
a magic touch transformed back from ravenous beasts to
human beings, and I saw several of them raise their hands
to heaven in silent gratitude. Andre and his father were
the last to drink.

"But where are we?" I asked at length.

"The land is there," said Curtis, pointing toward the
west.

We all stared at the captain as though he were mocking
us: no land was in sight, and the raft, just as ever, was the
center of a watery waste. Yet our senses had not deceived
us; the water we had been drinking was perfectly fresh.

"Yes," repeated the captain, "land is certainly there, not
more than twenty miles to leeward."

"What land?" inquired the boatswain.

"South America," answered Curtis, "and near the
Amazon; no other river has a current strong enough to
freshen the ocean twenty miles from shore!"

JANUARY 27 continued. — Curtis, no doubt, was right.
The discharge from the mouth of the Amazon is enormously large, but we had probably drifted into the only spot
in the Atlantic where we could find fresh water so far from
land. Yet land undoubtedly was there, and the breeze was
carrying us onward slowly but surely to our deliverance.

Miss Herbey's voice was heard pouring out fervent praise
to Heaven, and we were all glad to unite our thanksgivings
with hers. Then the whole of us (with the exception of
Andre and his father, who remained by themselves together at the stern) clustered in a group, and kept our expectant gaze upon the horizon.

We had not long to wait. Before an hour had passed,
Curtis leaped in ecstasy and raised the joyous shout of
"Land ahoy!"

My journal has come to a close.

I have only to relate, as briefly as possible, the circumstances that finally brought us to our destination.

A few hours after we first sighted land the raft was off
Cape Magoari, on the island of Marajo, and was observed
by some fishermen, who, with kind-hearted alacrity picked
us up and tended us most carefully. They conveyed us to
Para, where we became the objects of unbounded sympathy.

The raft was brought to land in latitude 0 deg. 12' north, so
that since we abandoned the Chancellor we had drifted at
least fifteen degrees to the southwest. Except for the influence of the Gulf Stream we must have been carried far,
far to the south, and in that case we should never have
reached the mouth of the Amazon, and must inevitably
have been lost.

Of the thirty-two souls — nine passengers and twentythree seamen — who left Charleston on board the ship, only
five passengers and six seamen remain. Eleven of us alone
survive.

An official account of our rescue was drawn up by the
Brazilian authorities. Those who signed were Miss Herbey, J. R. Kazallon, M. Letourneur, Andre Letourneur,
Mr. Falsten, the boatswain, Dowlas, Burke, Flaypole, Sandon, and last, though not least,
"Robert Curtis, Captain."

At Para we soon found facilities for continuing our
homeward route. A vessel took us to Cayenne, where we
secured a passage on board one of the steamers of the
French Transatlantic Aspinwall line, the Ville de St. Nazaire, which conveyed us to Europe.

After all the dangers and privations which we have undergone together, it is scarcely necessary to say that there has
arisen between the surviving passengers of the Chancellor
a bond of friendship too indissoluble, I believe, for either
time or circumstance to destroy; Curtis must ever remain
the honored and valued friend of those whose welfare he
consulted so faithfully in their misfortunes; his conduct
was beyond all praise.

When we were fairly on our homeward way, Miss Herbey
by chance intimated to us her intention of retiring from the
world and devoting the remainder of her life to the care
of the sick and suffering.

"Then why not come and look after my son?" said
M. Letourneur, adding, "he is an invalid, and he requires,
as he deserves, the best of nursing."

Miss Herbey, after some deliberation, consented to become a member of their family, and finds in M. Letourneur
a father, and in Andre a brother. A brother, I say; but
may we not hope that she may be united by a dearer and a
closer tie, and that the noble-hearted girl may experience
the happiness that she so richly deserves?