The Survivors of the Chancellor (7 page)

Here they held a consultation, to which I was admitted.
They were all of opinion that nothing could be done until
daylight should give us something of an idea of our actual
position. If we then found that we were near the shore,
we would, weather permitting, endeavor to land, either in
the boat or upon a raft. If, on the other hand, no land
were in sight, and the Chancellor were ascertained to be
stranded on some isolated reef, all we could do would be
to get her afloat, and put her into condition for reaching the
nearest coast. Curtis told us that it was long since he had
been able to take any observation of latitude, but there was
no doubt the northwest wind had driven us far to the south;
and he thought, as he was ignorant of the existence of any
reef in this part of the Atlantic, that it was just possible
that we had been driven on to the coast of some portion of
South America.

I reminded him that we were in momentary expectation
of an explosion, and suggested that it would be advisable to
abandon the ship and take refuge on the reef. But he
would not hear of such a proceeding, said that the reef
would probably be covered at high tide, and persisted in the
original resolution, that no decided action could be taken
before the daylight appeared.

I immediately reported this decision of the captain to my
fellow-passengers. None of them seemed to realize the
new danger to which the Chancellor may be exposed by being cast upon an unknown reef, hundreds of miles it may be
from land. All are for the time possessed with one idea,
one hope; and that is, that the fire may now be quenched
and the explosion averted.

And certainly their hopes seem in a fair way of being fulfilled. Already the raging flames that poured forth from
the hatches have given place to dense black smoke, and although occasionally some fiery streaks dart across the dusky
fumes, yet they are instantly extinguished. The waves are
doing what pumps and buckets could never have effected;
by their inundation they are steadily stifling the fire which
was as steadily spreading to the whole bulk of the 1,700
bales of cotton.

Chapter XVI - Silas Huntly Rescued from the Waves
*

OCTOBER 30. — At the first gleam of daylight we eagerly
scanned the southern and western horizons, but the morning mists limited our view. Land was nowhere to be seen.
The tide was now almost at its lowest ebb, and the color
of the few peaks of rock that jutted up around us showed
that the reef on which we had stranded was of basaltic
formation. There were now only about six feet of water
around the Chancellor, though with a full freight she draws
about fifteen. It was remarkable how far she had been
carried on to the shelf of rock, but the number of times that
she had touched the bottom before she finally ran aground
left us no doubt that she had been lifted up and borne along
on the top of an enormous wave. She now lies with her
stern considerably higher than her bows, a position which
renders walking upon the deck anything but an easy matter,
moreover as the tide receded she heeled over so much to larboard that at one time Curtis feared she would altogether
capsize; that fear, however, since the tide has reached its
lowest mark, has happily proved groundless.

At six o'clock some violent blows were felt against the
ship's side, and at the same time a voice was distinguished,
shouting loudly, "Curtis! Curtis!" Following the direction of the cries we saw that the broken mizzen-mast was
being washed against the vessel, and in the dusky morning
twilight we could make out the figure of a man clinging to
the rigging. Curtis, at the peril of his life, hastened to
bring the man on board. It proved to be none other than
Silas Huntly, who, after being carried overboard with the
mast, had thus, almost by a miracle, escaped a watery grave.
Without a word of thanks to his deliverer, the ex-captain,
passive, like an automaton, passed on and took his seat in
the most secluded corner of the poop. The broken mizzen
may, perhaps, be of service to us at some future time, and
with that idea it has been rescued from the waves and lashed
securely to the stern.

By this time it was light enough to see for a distance of
three miles round; but as yet nothing could be discerned to
make us think that we were near a coast. The line of
breakers ran for about a mile from southwest to northeast,
and two hundred fathoms to the north of the ship an irregular mass of rocks formed a small islet. This islet rose
about fifty feet above the sea, and was consequently above
the level of the highest tides; while a sort of causeway,
available at low water, would enable us to reach the island,
if necessity required. But there the reef ended; beyond
it the sea again resumed its somber hue, betokening deep
water. In all probability, then, this was a solitary shoal,
unattached to a shore, and the gloom of a bitter disappointment began to weigh upon our spirits.

In another hour the mists had totally disappeared, and it
was broad daylight. I and M. Letourneur stood watching
Curtis as he continued eagerly to scan the western horizon.
Astonishment was written on his countenance; to him it
appeared perfectly incredible that, after our course for so
long had been due south from the Bermudas, no land should
be in sight. But not a speck, however minute, broke the
clearly-defined line that joined sea and sky. After a time
Curtis made his way along the netting to the shrouds, and
swung himself quickly up to the top of the mainmast. For
several minutes he remained there examining the open space
around, then seizing one of the backstays he glided down
and rejoined us on the poop.

"No land in sight," he said, in answer to our eager looks.

At this point Mr. Kear interposed, and in a gruff, illtempered tone, asked Curtis where we were. Curtis replied
that he did not know.

"You don't know, sir? Then all I can say is that you
ought to know!" exclaimed the petroleum merchant.

"That may be, sir; but at present I am as ignorant of our
whereabouts as you are yourself," said Curtis.

"Well," said Mr. Kear, "just please to know that I
don't want to stay forever on your everlasting ship, so I
beg you will make haste and start off again."

Curtis condescended to make no other reply than a shrug
of the shoulders, and turning away he informed M. Letourneur and myself that if the sun came out he intended to take
its altitude and find out to what part of the ocean we had
been driven.

His next care was to distribute preserved meat and biscuit
among the passengers and crew already half fainting with
hunger and fatigue, and then he set to work to devise measures for setting the ship afloat.

The conflagration was greatly abated; no flames now appeared, and although some black smoke still issued from the
interior, yet its volume was far less than before. The first
step was to discover how much water had entered the
hold. The deck was still too hot to walk upon; but after
two hours' irrigation the boards became sufficiently cool for
the boatswain to proceed to take some soundings, and he
shortly afterward announced that there were five feet of
water below. This the captain determined should not be
pumped out at present, as he wanted it thoroughly to do its
duty before he got rid of it.

The next subject for consideration was whether it would
be advisable to abandon the vessel, and to take refuge on
the reef. Curtis thought not; and the lieutenant and the
boatswain agreed with him. The chances of an explosion
were greatly diminished, as it had been ascertained that the
water had reached that part of the hold in which Ruby's
luggage had been deposited; while, on the other hand, in
the event of rough weather, our position even upon the most
elevated points of rock might be very critical. It was accordingly resolved that both passengers and crew were safest on board.

Acting upon this decision we proceeded to make a kind
of encampment on the poop, and a few mattresses that were
rescued uninjured have been given up for the use of the
two ladies. Such of the crew as had saved their hammocks
have been told to place them under the forecastle where they
would have to stow themselves as best they could, their
ordinary quarters being absolutely uninhabitable.

Fortunately, although the store-room has been considerably exposed to the heat, its contents are not very seriously
damaged, and all the barrels of water and the greater part
of the provisions are quite intact. The stock of spare sails,
which had been packed away in front, is also free from injury. The wind has dropped considerably since the early
morning, and the swell in the sea is far less heavy. On
the whole our spirits are reviving and we begin to think we
may yet find a way out of our troubles.

M. Letourneur, his son, and I, have just had a long conversation about the ship's officers. We consider their conduct, under the late trying circumstances, to have been most
exemplary, and their courage, energy, and endurance to
have been beyond all praise. Lieutenant Walter, the boatswain, and Dowlas the carpenter have all alike distinguished
themselves, and made us feel that they are men to be relied
on. As for Curtis, words can scarcely be found to express
our admiration of his character; he is the same as he has
ever been, the very life of his crew, cheering them on by
word or gesture; finding an expedient for every difficulty,
and always foremost in every action.

The tide turned at seven this morning, and by eleven all
the rocks were submerged, none of them being visible except the cluster of those which formed the rim of a small
and almost circular basin from 230 to 300 feet in diameter,
in the north angle of which the ship is lying. As the tide
rose the white breakers disappeared, and the sea, fortunately
for the Chancellor, was pretty calm; otherwise the dashing
of the waves against her sides, as she lies motionless, might
have been attended by serious consequences.

As might be supposed, the height of the water in the hold
increased with the tide from five feet to nine; but this was
rather a matter of congratulation, inasmuch as it sufficed
to inundate another layer of cotton.

At half-past eleven the sun, which had been behind the
clouds since ten o'clock, broke forth brightly. The captain,
who had already in the morning been able to calculate an
horary angle, now prepared to take the meridian altitude,
and succeeded at midday in making his observation most
satisfactorily. After retiring for a short time to calculate
the result, he returned to the poop and announced that we
are in lat. 18 deg. 5' N. and long. 45 deg. 53' W., but that the reef
on which we are aground is not marked on the charts. The
only explanation that can be given for the omission is that
the islet must be of recent formation, and has been caused
by some subterranean volcanic disturbance. But whatever
may be the solution of the mystery, here we are 800 miles
from land; for such, on consulting the map, we find to be
the actual distance to the coast of Guiana, which is the nearest shore. Such is the position to which we have been
brought, in the first place, by Huntly's senseless obstinacy,
and, secondly, by the furious northwest gale.

Yet, after all, the captain's communication does not dishearten us. As I said before, our spirits are reviving. We
have escaped the peril of fire; the fear of explosion is past
and gone: and oblivious of the fact that the ship with a
hold full of water is only too likely to founder when she
puts out to sea, we feel a confidence in the future that forbids us to despond.

Meanwhile Curtis prepares to do all that common sense
demands. He proposes, when the fire is quite extinguished,
to throw overboard the whole, or the greater portion of the
cargo, including, of course, the picrate; he will next plug
up the leak, and then, with a lightened ship, he will take advantage of the first high tide to quit the reef as speedily as
possible.

Chapter XVII - M. Letourneur is Pessimistic
*

OCTOBER 30. — Once again I talked to M. Letourneur about
our situation, and endeavored to animate him with the hope
that we should not be detained for long in our present predicament; but he could not be brought to take a very sanguine view of our prospects.

"But surely," I protested, "it will not be difficult to
throw overboard a few hundred bales of cotton; two or
three days at most will suffice for that."

"Likely enough," he replied, "when the business is once
begun; but you must remember, Mr. Kazallon, that the very
heart of the cargo is still smoldering, and that it will still be
several days before anyone will be able to venture into the
hold. Then the leak, too, that has to be caulked; and, unless it is stopped up very effectually, we shall only be doomed
most certainly to perish at sea. Don't then, be deceiving
yourself; it must be three weeks at least before you can expect to put out to sea. I can only hope meanwhile that the
weather will continue propitious; it wouldn't take many
storms to knock the Chancellor, shattered as she is, completely into pieces."

Here, then, was the suggestion of a new danger to which
we were to be exposed; the fire might be extinguished, the
water might be got rid of by the pumps, but, after all, we
must be at the mercy of the wind and waves; and, although
the rocky island might afford a temporary refuge from the
tempest, what was to become of passengers and crew if the
vessel should be reduced to a total wreck? I made no
remonstrance, however, to this view of our case, but merely
asked M. Letourneur if he had confidence in Robert Curtis?

"Perfect confidence," he answered; "and I acknowledge
it most gratefully, as a providential circumstance, that Captain Huntly had given him the command in time. Whatever man can do I know that Curtis will not leave undone to
extricate us from our dilemma."

Prompted by this conversation with M. Letourneur I
took the first opportunity of trying to ascertain from Curtis
himself how long he reckoned we should be obliged to remain upon the reef; but he merely replied, that it must depend upon circumstances, and that he hoped the weather
would continue favorable. Fortunately the barometer is
rising steadily, and there is every sign of a prolonged calm.

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