The Golden Dream: Adventures in the Far West
Page 5
CHAPTER FIVE.
THE SEA--DANGERS OF THE DEEP, AND UNCERTAINTY OF HUMAN AFFAIRS--ADISASTROUS NIGHT AND A BRIGHT MORNING--CALIFORNIA AT LAST.
Only those who have dwelt upon the ocean for many months together cancomprehend the feelings of delight, with which the long-imprisonedvoyager draws near to his desired haven. For six long months did the_Roving Bess_ do battle with the surging billows of the great deep.During that time she steered towards the Gulf of Mexico--carefullyavoiding that huge reservoir of sea-weed, termed the Saragossa sea, inwhich the unscientific but enterprising mariners of old used to getbecalmed oftentimes for days and weeks together--she coasted down theeastern shores of South America; fired at, and "shewed her heels" to, apirate; doubled Cape Horn; fought with the tempests that take specialdelight in revelling there; and, finally, spreading her sails to thegenial breezes of the Pacific Ocean, drew near to her voyage-end.
All this the good ship _Roving Bess_ did with credit to herself andcomfort to her crew; but a few weeks after she entered the Pacific, shewas met, contrary to all expectation, by the bitterest gale that hadever compelled her to scud under bare poles.
It was a beautiful afternoon when the first symptoms of the coming stormwere observed. Captain Bunting had just gone down below, and our herowas standing at the weather gangway, observing the sudden dart of ashoal of flying-fish, which sprang out of the sea, whizzed through theair a few hundred feet, and fell with a splash into the water, in theirfrantic efforts to escape from their bitter enemy, the dolphin.
While Ned gazed contemplatively at the spot where the winged fish haddisappeared, the captain sprang on deck.
"We're goin' to catch it," he said, hurriedly, as he passed forward;"tumble up, there; tumble up; all hands to shorten sails. Hand down theroyals, and furl the t'gallant sails, Mr Williams, (to the first mate,)and look alive."
"Ay, ay, sir," was answered in that prompt tone of voice which indicatesthorough discipline and unquestioning obedience, while the men scrambledup the fore-hatch, and sprang up the ratlines hand over hand. A momentbefore, the vessel had lain quietly on the bosom of the unruffled deep,as if she were asleep, now she was all uproar and apparent confusion;sails slewed round, ropes rattled, and blocks creaked, while thesonorous voice of the first mate sounded commands like a trumpet fromthe quarter-deck.
"I see no indication of a storm," remarked young Sinton, as the captainwalked aft.
"Possibly not, lad; but _I_ do. The barometer has fallen lower, all ofa sadden, than I ever saw it fall before. You may depend upon it, weshall have to look out for squalls before long. Just cast your eyes onthe horizon over the weather bows there; it's not much of a cloud, and,to say truth, I would not have thought much of it had the glass remainedsteady, but that faithful servant never--"
"Better close-reef the top-sails, sir," said the mate, touching his cap,and pointing to the cloud just referred to.
"Do so, Mr Williams, and let the watch below remain on deck, and standby to man the halyards."
In less than an hour the _Roving Bess_ was running at the rate of twelveknots, under close-reefed top-sails, before a steady gale, which inhalf-an-hour later increased to a hurricane, compelling them to take inall sail and "lay to." The sun set in a blaze of mingled black andlurid clouds, as if the heavens were on fire; the billows rose to theirutmost height as the shrieking winds heaved them upwards, and then,cutting off their crests, hurled the spray along like driving clouds ofsnow, and dashed it against the labouring ship, as if impatient toengulf her in that ravening maw which has already swallowed up so manyhuman victims.
But the little vessel faced the tempest nobly, and rose like a sea-mewon the white crest of each wave, while the steersmen--for there were twolashed to the wheel--kept her to the wind. Suddenly the sheet of thefore trysail parted, the ship came up to the wind, and a billow at thatmoment broke over her, pouring tons of water on her deck, and carryingaway the foremast, main-top-masts, and the jib-boom.
"Clear the wreck--down the helm, and let her scud," shouted the captain,who stood by the mizzen-mast, holding on to a belaying-pin. But thecaptain's voice was drowned by the whistling winds, and, seeing that themen were uncertain what to do, he seized one of the axes which werelashed to the foot of the mast, and began to cut away the ropes whichdragged the wreck of the foremast under the lee of the ship. Williams,the mate, and the second mate, followed his example, while Ned sprang tothe wheel to see the orders to the steersmen obeyed. In half-an-hourall was clear, and the ship was scudding before the gale under barepoles.
"We've not seen the worst of it," remarked the captain, as he resumedhis post on the quarter-deck, and brushed the brine from his whiskers;"I fear, too, that she has received some bad thumps from the wreck ofthe foremast. You'd better go below, Sinton, and put on a topcoat; itsno use gettin' wetter than you can help."
"I'm as wet as I can be, captain; besides, I can work better as I am, ifthere's anything for me to do."
"Well, there ain't much: you'll have enough to do to keep yourself frombeing washed overboard. How's her head, Larry?"
"Nor' east an' by east," replied one of the men at the wheel, LarryO'Neil by name--a genuine son of Erin, whose jovial smile of rollickinggood humour was modified, but by no means quenched, by the seriouscircumstances in which he found himself placed. His comrade, WilliamJones, who stood on the larboard side of the wheel, was a short,thick-set, stern seaman, whose facial muscles were scarcely capable ofbreaking into a smile, and certainly failed to betray any of the owner'sthoughts or feelings, excepting astonishment. Such passions as anger,pity, disgust, fear, and the like, whatever place they might have inJones's breast, had no visible index on his visage. Both men weresailor-like and powerful, but they were striking contrasts to eachother, as they stood--the one sternly, the other smilingly--steering the_Roving Bess_ before that howling storm.
"Is not `nor' east and by east' our direct course for the harbour of SanFrancisco?" inquired Ned Sinton.
"It is," replied the captain, "as near as I can guess; but we've beenblown about so much that I can't tell exactly. Moreover, it's myopinion we can't be far off the coast now; and if this gale holds onI'll have to bring to, at the risk of bein' capsized. Them plagueycoral-reefs, too, are always springin' up in these seas where you leastexpect 'em. If we go bump against one as we are goin' now, its all upwith us."
"Not a pleasant idea," remarked Ned, somewhat gravely. "Do these stormsusually last long?"
Before the captain could reply, the first mate came up and whispered inhis ear.
"Eh! how much d'ye say?" he asked quickly.
"Five feet, sir; she surged heavily once or twice on the foremast, and Ithink must have started a plank."
"Call all hands to work the pumps; and don't let the men know how muchwater there is in the hold. Come below, Ned. I want you. Keep herhead steady as she goes."
"Ay, ay, sir," sang out O'Neil, as the captain descended thecompanion-hatch to the cabin, followed by his young friend.
The dim light in the swinging lamp flickered fitfully when the shipplunged into the troughs of the seas, and rose again with a violentsurge, as each wave passed under her, while every plank and spar onboard seemed to groan under the strain. Darkness now added to theterrors of the wild storm.
Sitting down on a locker, Captain Bunting placed his elbows on thetable, and covering his face with his hands, remained silent for severalminutes, while Ned sat down beside him, but forbore to interrupt histhoughts.
"Boy," he said, at length, looking up anxiously, "we've sprung a leak,and a few minutes will shew what our fate is to be. Five feet of waterin the hold in so short a time implies a bad one."
"Five feet two, sir," said the mate, looking in at the cabin door; "andthe carpenter can't get at the leak."
"I feared as much," muttered the captain. "Keep the men hard at thepumps, Mr Williams, and let me hear how it stands again in tenminutes."
"Captain," said Ned, "it does not become a landsman t
o suggest, perhaps,but I can't help reminding you, that leaks of this kind have beenstopped by putting a sail below the ship's bottom."
"I know it, boy, I know it; but we could never get a sail down in such anight."
"Can nothing be done, then?"
"Yes, lad; it's hard to do it, but it must be done; life is moreprecious than gold--we must heave the cargo overboard. I have investedevery farthing I have in the world in this venture," continued CaptainBunting, sadly, "but there's no help for it. Now, you were at theshifting of the cargo when we opened the hatches during the calms offthe Brazilian coast, and as you know the position of the bales andboxes, I want you to direct the men so as to get it hove out quickly.Luckily, bein' a general cargo, most o' the bales are small and easilyhandled. Here comes the mate again--well, Mr Williams?"
"Up another inch, sir."
"Go, Ned, over with it. I'll superintend above; so good-bye to ourgolden dreams."
There was a slight tone of bitterness in the captain's voice as hespoke, but it passed away quickly, and the next instant he was on deckencouraging his men to throw the valuable cargo over the side. Baleafter bale and box after box were tossed ruthlessly out upon the ragingsea until little was left in the ship, save the bulky and less valuableportion of the cargo. Then a cry arose that the leak was discovered!The carpenter had succeeded in partially stopping it with part of asail, and soon the pumps began to reduce the quantity of water in thehold. At last the leak was gained and effectually stopped, and beforedaybreak the storm began to subside. While part of the crew, beingrelieved from the harassing work at the pumps, busied themselves inrepairing damages, Ned went to his cabin to put on dry clothes and takea little rest, of which he stood much in need.
Next day the bright sun rose in a cloudless sky, and a gentle breeze nowwafted the _Roving Bess_ over the Pacific, whose bosom still heaveddeeply from the effects of the recent storm. A sense of ferventthankfulness to God for deliverance filled the heart of our hero as heawoke and beheld the warm sunbeams streaming in at the little window ofhis cabin. Suddenly he was roused from a deep reverie by the shout of"Land, ho!" on deck.
Words cannot convey an adequate idea of the effect of such a shout uponall on board. "Land, ho!" was repeated by every one, as he sprang indishabille up the hatchway.
"Where away?" inquired Captain Bunting.
"Right ahead, sir," answered the look-out.
"Ay, there it is," said the captain, as Ned, without coat or vest,rushed to his side, and gazed eagerly over the bow, "there it is, Ned,--California, at last! Yonder rise the golden mountains that have sosuddenly become the world's magnet; and yonder, too, is the `GoldenGate' of the harbour of San Francisco. Humph! much good it'll do us."
Again there was a slight tone of bitterness in the captain's voice.
"Don't let down your spirits, captain," said Ned, in a cheering tone;"there is still enough of the cargo left to enable us to make a startfor the gold-fields. Perhaps we may make more money there than we wouldhave made had we sold the cargo at a large profit by trafficking on thecoast."
Captain Bunting hooked his thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat,and shook his head. It was evident that he had no faith ingold-digging. Meanwhile the crew had assembled on the forecastle, andwere looking out ahead with wistful and excited glances; for the fame ofthe golden land to which they were approaching had spread far and wide,and they longed to see the gold-dust and nuggets with their own eyes.
"It's a beautiful land, intirely," exclaimed Larry O'Neil, with anirrepressible shout of enthusiasm, which called forth a general cheerfrom the men.
"Arrah, now," remarked another Patlander, "don't ye wish ye wos up tothe knees and elbows in the goolden sands already? Faix I'd give amonth's pay to have wan day at the diggin's."
"I don't believe a word about it--I don't," remarked Jones, with thedogged air of a man who shouldn't, wouldn't, and didn't believe, and yetfelt, somehow, that he couldn't help it.
"Nother do I," said another, "It's all a sham; come, now, ain't it,Bill?" he added, turning to a bronzed veteran who had visited Californiatwo years before.
"A sham!" exclaimed Bill. "I tell 'e wot it is, messmate, when youcomes for to see the miners in San Francisco drinkin' _sham_pain likewater, an' payin' a dollar for a glass o' six-water grog, you'll--"
"How much is a dollar?" inquired a soft-looking youth, interrupting him.
Bill said it was "'bout four shillin's," and turned away with a look ofcontempt at such a display of ignorance.
"_Four shillin's_!" exclaimed the soft youth, in amazement.
"Clear the anchor, and clew up the main-topsail," shouted the mate.
In another moment the crew were scattered, some aloft to "lay out" onthe topsail yard, some to the clew-lines, and some to clear the anchor,which latter had not been disturbed since the _Roving Bess_ left theshores of Old England.