The Island Home

by Richard Archer

  CHAPTER THREE.

  THE ALARM AND THE CONFLICT.

  THE MUTINEERS--THE RACE FOR LIFE--THE CORAL LEDGE--A FINAL EFFORT--ABRIEF WARNING--THE STRANGE SAIL.

  "Now bend the straining rowers to their oars; Fast the light shallops leave the lessening shores, No rival crews in emulous sport contend, But life and death upon the event depend."

  The next moment we were startled by a quick, fierce shout, followedimmediately by a long, piercing, and distressful cry, proceeding fromthe same quarter from which the reports of fire-arms had been heard; andbefore we had time to conjecture the cause or meaning of these frightfulsounds, Morton bounded like a deer from the grove, about a hundred yardsfrom the spot where we were standing, and ran swiftly towards us, cryingout--"To the boats! for your lives to the boats!"

  Our first thought was, that the party at the spring had been attackedand massacred by the natives. Arthur seized Johnny by one hand, andmotioned to me to take the other, which I did, and without stopping todemand any explanations, we started at a rapid pace, in the direction ofthe yawl, Max taking the lead--Arthur and myself, dragging Johnnybetween us, coming next, and Morton a few paces behind us, bringing upthe rear. It took but a few moments to enable us to reach the spotwhere the yawl lay, hauled up upon the beach. There was no one in her,or in sight, except Browne, who was comfortably stretched out near theboat sound asleep, with an open book lying beside him.

  Morton aroused the sleeper by a violent shake. "Now, then," cried he,"let us get the boat into the water; the tide is down, and the yawl isheavy; we shall want all the strength we can muster."

  By a united effort we got the yawl to the edge of the surf.

  Browne, though not yet thoroughly awake, could not but observe our palefaces and excited appearance, and gazing from one to another in abewildered manner, he asked what was the matter; but no one made anyanswer. Morton lifted Johnny into the boat and asked the rest of us toget in, except Arthur, saying that they two would push her through thesurf.

  "Hold!" cried Arthur, "let us not be too fast; some of the others mayescape the savages, and they will naturally run this way--we must notleave them to be murdered."

  "There are no savages in the case," answered Morton, "and there is notime to be lost; the men have killed the first officer, and Mr Frazer,too, I fear; and they will take the ship and commit more murders, unlesswe can get there before them, to warn those on board."

  This was more horrible than any thing that we had anticipated; but wehad no time to dwell upon it: the sound of oars rattling in therow-locks, was heard from beyond the point.

  "There are the mutineers!" cried Morton; "but I think that we have theadvantage of them; they must pull round yonder point, which will make atleast a quarter of a mile's difference in the distance to the ship."

  "There is no use in trying to get to the ship before them," said Max,"the long-boat pulls eight oars, and there are men enough to fill her."

  "There _is_ use in trying; it would be shameful _not_ to try; if theypull most oars, ours is the lightest boat," answered Morton withvehemence.

  "It us out of the question," said Browne; "see, is there any hope thatwe can succeed?" and he pointed to the bow of the long-boat justappearing from behind the point.

  "O, but this is not right!--Browne! Max! in the name of all that ishonourable, let us make the attempt," urged Morton, laying a hand in animploring manner on the arm of each. "Shall we let them take the shipand murder our friends, without an effort to warn them of their danger?You, Arthur, are for making the attempt, I know--this delay is wrong:the time is precious."

  "Yes, let us try it," said Arthur, glancing rapidly from the long-boatto the ship, "if we fail, no harm is done, except that we incur theanger of the mutineers. I, for one, am willing to take the risk."

  Max sprang into the boat, and seized an oar without another word.

  "_You_ know well, that I am willing to share any danger with the rest,and that it was not the danger that made me hesitate," said Browne,laying his hand on Morton's shoulder, and looking earnestly into hisface; and then, in his usual deliberate manner, he followed Max'sexample.

  Morton, Arthur, and myself now pushed the boat into the surf and sprangin. At Arthur's request, I took the rudder; he and Morton seized thetwo remaining oars, and the four commenced pulling with a degree ofcoolness and vigour, that would not have disgraced older and morepractised oarsmen. As I saw the manner in which they bent to theirwork, and the progress we were making, I began to think our chance ofreaching the ship before the crew of the long-boat, by no meansdesperate.

  Morton, in spite of his slender figure and youthful appearance, whichhis fresh, ruddy complexion, blue eyes, and brown curling locks,rendered almost effeminate, possessed extraordinary strength, andindomitable energy.

  Browne, though his rather heavy frame and breadth of shoulders gave himthe appearance of greater strength than he actually possessed, wasundoubtedly capable, when aroused, of more powerful temporary exertionthan any other of our number; though in point of activity and endurance,he would scarcely equal Morton or Arthur. Max, too, was vigorous andactive, and, when stimulated by danger or emulation, was capable ofpowerful effort. Arthur, though of slight and delicate frame, wascompact and well knit, and his coolness, judgment and resolution,enabled him to dispose of his strength to the best advantage. All wereanimated by that high and generous spirit which is of greater value inan emergency than any amount of mere physical strength; a spirit whichoften stimulates the feeble to efforts as surprising to him who putsthem forth, as to those who witness them.

  Browne had the bow-oar, and putting his whole force into every stroke,was pulling like a giant. Morton, who was on the same side, handled hisoar with less excitement and effort but with greater precision and equalefficiency. It was plain that these two were pulling Max and Arthurround, and turning the boat from her course; and as I had not yetsucceeded in shipping the rudder, which was rendered difficult by therising and falling of the boat, and the sudden impulse she received fromevery stroke, I requested Browne and Morton to pull more gently. Justas I had succeeded in getting the rudder hung, the crew of the long-boatseemed to have first observed us. They had cleared the point to thesouthward, and we were, perhaps, a hundred yards nearer the long point,beyond which we could see the masts of the ship, and on doubling which,we should be almost within hail of her. The latter point, was probablya little more than half a mile distant from us, and towards the head ofit, both boats were steering. The long-boat was pulling eight oars, andLuerson, the man who had had the difficulty with the first officer atthe Kingsmill Islands, was at the helm. As soon as he observed us, heappeared to speak to the crew of his boat, and they commenced pullingwith greater vigour than before. He then hailed us,--"Holloa, lads!where's Frazer? Are you going to leave him on the island!"

  We pulled on in silence.

  "He is looking for you now, somewhere along shore; he left us, justbelow the point, to find you; you had better pull back and bring himoff."

  "All a trick," said Morton; "don't waste any breath with them;" and webent to the oars with new energy.

  "The young scamps mean to give the alarm," I could hear Luerson mutterwith an oath, as he surveyed, for a moment, the interval between the twoboats, and then the distance to the point.

  "There's no use of mincing matters, my lads," he cried, standing up inthe stem; "we have knocked the first officer on the head, and servedsome of those who didn't approve of the proceeding in the same way; andnow we are going to take the ship."

  "We know it, and intend to prevent you," cried Morton, panting with theviolence of his exertions.

  "Unship your oars till we pass you, and you shall not be hurt," pursuedLuerson in the same breath; "pull another stroke at them, and I willserve you like your friend, Frazer, and he lies at the spring with histhroat slit!"

  The ruffian's design, in this savage threat, was doubtless to terrify usinto submission; or, at least, so to appal and agitate us, as
to makeour exertions more confused and feeble. In this last calculation he mayhave been partially correct, for the threat was fearful, and the dangerimminent; the harsh, deep tones of his voice, with the ferociousdetermination of his manner, sent a thrill of horror to every heart.More than this, he could not effect; there was not a craven spirit amongour number.

  "Steadily!" said Arthur, in a low, collected tone; "less than fiveminutes will bring us within hail of the ship."

  But the minutes seemed hours, amid such tremendous exertions, and suchintense anxiety. The sweat streamed from the faces of the rowers; theygasped and panted for breath; the swollen veins stood out on theirforeheads.

  "Perhaps," cried Luerson, after a pause, "perhaps there is some one inthat boat who desires to save his life; whoever drops his oar shall notbe harmed; the rest die."

  A scornful laugh from Morton was the only answer to this tempting offer.

  Luerson now stooped for a moment and seemed to be groping for somethingin the bottom of the boat. When he rose, it was with a musket orfowling-piece in his hands, which he cocked, and, coming forward to thebow, levelled towards us.

  "Once more," he cried, "and once for all, drop your oars, or I fireamong you."

  "I don't believe it is loaded," said Arthur, "or he would have used itsooner."

  "I think it is Frazer's gun," said Morton, "and he fired both barrelsbefore they murdered him; there has been no time to reload it."

  The event showed the truth of these suspicions; for, upon seeing thathis threat produced no effect, Luerson resumed his seat in the bows, thehelm having been given to one of the men not at the oars.

  We were now close upon the point, and, as I glanced from our pursuers tothe ship, I began to breathe more freely. They had gained upon us; butit was inch by inch, and the goal was now at hand. The long-boat,though pulling eight oars, and those of greater length than ours, was aclumsier boat than the yawl, and at present heavily loaded; we hadalmost held our own with them thus far.

  But now Luerson sprang up once more in the bow of the long-boat, andpresented towards us the weapon with which he had a moment beforethreatened us; and this time it was no idle menace. A puff of smokerose from the muzzle of the piece, and, just as the sharp report reachedour ears, Browne uttered a quick exclamation of pain, and let fall hisoar.

  For a moment all was confusion and alarm; but Browne, who had seized hisoar again almost instantly, declared that he was not hurt; that the ballhad merely grazed the skin of his arm; and he attempted to recommencerowing; before, however, he had pulled half-a-dozen strokes, his righthand was covered with the blood which streamed down his arm.

  I now insisted on taking his oar, and he took my place at the helm.

  While this change was being effected, our pursuers gained upon usperceptibly. Every moment was precious. Luerson urged his men togreater efforts; the turning point of the struggle was now at hand, andthe excitement became terrible.

  "Steer close in; it will save something in distance," gasped Morton,almost choking for breath.

  "Not too close," panted Arthur; "don't get us aground."

  "There is no danger of that," answered Morton, "it is deep, off thepoint."

  Almost as he spoke, a sharp, grating sound was heard, beneath the bottomof the boat, and our progress was arrested with a suddenness that threwMax and myself from our seats. We were upon a ledge of coral, which ata time of less excitement we could scarcely have failed to have observedand avoided, from the manner in which the sea broke upon it.

  A shout of mingled exultation and derision, as they witnessed thisdisaster, greeted us from the long-boat, which was ploughing through thewater, but a little way behind us, and some twenty yards further outfrom the shore.

  "It is all up," said Morton, bitterly, dropping his oar.

  "Back water! Her stern still swings free," cried Arthur, "the nextswell will lift her clear."

  We got as far aft as possible, to lighten the bows; a huge wave brokeupon the ledge, and drenched us with spray, but the yawl still gratedupon the coral.

  Luerson probably deemed himself secure of a more convenient opportunity,at no distant period, to wreak his vengeance upon us: at any rate therewas no time for it now; he merely menaced us with his clenched fist, asthey swept by. Almost at the same moment a great sea came rollingsmoothly in, and, as our oars dipped to back water, we floated free:then a few vigorous strokes carried us to a safe distance from thetreacherous shoal.

  "One effort more!" cried Arthur, as the mutineers disappeared behind thepoint; "we are not yet too late to give them a warning, though it willbe but a short one."

  Again we bent to the oars, and in a moment we too had doubled the point,and were in the wake of the long-boat. The ship lay directly before us,and within long hailing distance.

  "Now, comrades, let us shout together, and try to make them understandtheir danger," said Browne, standing up in the stern.

  "A dozen strokes more," said Arthur, "and we can do it with more certainsuccess."

  Luerson merely glanced back at us, as he once more heard the dash of ouroars; but he took no farther notice of us: the crisis was too close athand.

  On board the ship all seemed quiet. Some of the men were gatheredtogether on the starboard bow, apparently engaged in fishing; they didnot seem to notice the approach of the boats.

  "Now, then!" cried Arthur, at length, unshipping his oar, and springingto his feet, "one united effort to attract their attention--alltogether--now, then!" and we sent up a cry that echoed wildly across thewater, and startled the idlers congregated at the bows, who came runningto the side of the vessel nearest us.

  "We have got their attention; now hail them," said Arthur, turning toBrowne, who had a deep powerful voice; "tell them not to let thelong-boat board them."

  Browne put his hands to his mouth, and in tones that could have beendistinctly heard twice the distance, shouted--"Look-out for thelong-boat--don't let them board you--the men have killed the firstofficer, and want to take the ship!" From the stir and confusion thatfollowed, it was clear that the warning was understood.

  But the mutineers were now scarcely twenty yards from the vessel,towards which they were ploughing their way with unabated speed. Thenext moment they were under her bows; just as their oars flew into theair, we could hear a deep voice from the deck, sternly ordering them to"keep off," and I thought that I could distinguish Captain Erskinestanding near the bowsprit.

  The mutineers gave no heed to the order; several of them sprang into thechains, and Luerson among the rest. A fierce, though unequal struggle,at once commenced. The captain, armed with a weapon which he wieldedwith both hands, and which I took to be a capstan-bar, struck right andleft among the boarders as they attempted to gain the deck, and one, atleast of them, fell back with a heavy plunge into the water. But thecaptain seemed to be almost unsupported; and the mutineers had nearlyall reached the deck, and were pressing upon him.

  "Oh, but this is a cruel sight!" said Browne, turning away with ashudder. "Comrades, can we do nothing more?"

  Morton, who had been groping beneath the sail in the bottom of the boatnow dragged forth the cutlasses which Spot had insisted on placing therewhen we went ashore.

  "Here are arms!" he exclaimed, "we are not such boys, but that we cantake a part in what is going on--let us pull to the ship!"

  "What say you!" cried Arthur, glancing inquiringly from one to another;"we can't, perhaps, do much, but shall we sit here and see Mr Erskinemurdered, without _trying_ to help him!"

  "Friends, let us to the ship!" cried Browne, with deep emotion, "I amready."

  "And I!" gasped Max, pale with excitement, "we can but be killed."

  Can we hope to turn the scale of this unequal strife? shall we do morethan arrive at the scene of conflict in time to experience the vengeanceof the victorious mutineers?--such were the thoughts that flew hurriedlythrough my mind. I was entirely unaccustomed to scenes of violence andbloodshed, and my head swam, and my heart sickened
, as I gazed at theconfused conflict raging on the vessel's deck, and heard the shouts andcries of the combatants. Yet I felt an inward recoil against thebaseness of sitting an idle spectator of such a struggle. A glance atthe lion-hearted Erskine still maintaining the unequal fight, was anappeal to every noble and generous feeling: it nerved me for theattempt, and though I trembled as I grasped an oar, it was withexcitement and eagerness, not with fear.

  The yawl had hardly received the first impulse in the direction of theship, when the report of fire-arms was heard.

  "Merciful heavens!" cried Morton, "the captain is down! that fiendLuerson has shot him!"

  The figure which I had taken for that of Mr Erskine, was no longer tobe distinguished among the combatants, some person was now dragged tothe side of the ship towards us, and thrown overboard; he sunk after afeeble struggle; a triumphant shout followed, and then two men were seenrunning up the rigging.

  "There goes poor Spot up to the foretop," said Max, pointing to one ofthe figures in the rigging; "he can only gain time at the best but itcan't be that they'll kill him in cold blood."

  "Luerson is just the man to do it," answered Morton; "the faithfulfellow has stood by the captain, and that will seal his fate--look! itis as I said," and I could see some one pointing, what was doubtless MrFrazer's fowling-piece, at the figure in the foretop. A parley seemedto follow; as the result of which, the fugitive came down andsurrendered himself. The struggle now appeared to be over, and quietwas once more restored.

  So rapidly had these events passed, and so stunning was their effect,that it was some moments before we could collect our thoughts, or fullyrealise our situation; and we sat, silent and bewildered, gazing towardthe ship.

  Max was the first to break silence; "And now, what's to be done?" hesaid, "as to going aboard, that is of course out of the question: theship is no longer our home."

  "I don't know what we can do," said Morton, "except to pull ashore, andstand the chance of being taken off by some vessel, before we starve."

  "Here is something better," cried Max eagerly, pointing out to sea; and,looking in the direction indicated, we saw a large ship, with all hersails set, steering directly for us, or so nearly so, as to make itapparent that if she held on her present course, she must pass very nearto us. Had we not been entirely engrossed by what was taking placeimmediately around us, we could not have failed to have seen her sooner,as she must have been in sight a considerable time.

  "They have already seen her on board," said Morton, "and that accountsfor their great hurry in getting up anchor; they don't feel like beingneighbourly just now, with strange vessels."

  In fact, there was every indication on board of our own ship, of haste,and eagerness to be gone. While some of the men were at the capstan,getting up the anchor, others were busy in the rigging, and sail aftersail was rapidly spread to the breeze, so that by the time the anchorwas at the bows, the ship began to move slowly through the water.

  "They don't seem to consider us of much account anyway," said Max, "theyare going without so much as saying good-bye."

  "They may know more of the stranger than we do," said Arthur, "they haveglasses on board; if she should be an American man-of-war, their hurryis easily explained."

  "I can't help believing that they see or suspect more, in regard to her,than appears to us," said Morton, "or they would not fail to make anattempt to recover the yawl."

  "It is rapidly getting dark," said Arthur, "and I think we had betterput up the sail, and steer for the stranger."

  "Right," said Morton, "for she may possibly tack before she sees us."

  Morton and myself proceeded to step the mast, and rig the sail;meantime, Arthur got Browne's coat off, and examined and bandaged thewound on his arm, which had been bleeding all the while profusely; hepronounced it to be but a trifling hurt. A breeze from the south-easthad sprung up at sunset, and we now had a free wind to fill our sail, aswe steered directly out to sea to meet the stranger, which was still attoo great a distance to make it probable that we had been seen by herpeople.

  It was with a feeling of anxiety and uneasiness, that I saw the fainttwilight fading away, with the suddenness usual in those latitudes, andthe darkness gathering rapidly round us. Already the east was wrappedin gloom, and only a faint streak of light along the western horizonmarked the spot where the sun had so recently disappeared.

  "How suddenly the night has come upon us," said Arthur, who had beenpeering through the dusk toward the approaching vessel, in anxioussilence; "O, for twenty minutes more of daylight! I fear that she isabout tacking."

  This announcement filled us all with dismay, and every eye was strainedtowards her with intense and painful interest.

  Meantime, the breeze had freshened somewhat and we now had rather moreof it than we desired, as our little boat was but poorly fitted tonavigate the open ocean in rough weather. Johnny began to manifest somealarm, as we were tossed like a chip from wave to wave, and occasionallydeluged with spray, by a sea bursting with a rude shock over our bow. Ihad not even in the violent storm of the preceding week, experiencedsuch a sense of insecurity, such a feeling of helplessness, as now, whenthe actual danger was comparatively slight. The waves seemed tenfoldlarger and more threatening than when viewed from the deck of a largevessel. As we sunk into the trough of the sea, our horizon wascontracted to the breadth of half-a-dozen yards, and we entirely lostsight of the land, and of both ships.

  But it was evident that we were moving through the water withconsiderable velocity, and there was encouragement in that, for we feltconfident that if the stranger should hold on her present course but alittle longer, we should be on board of her before our safety would beseriously endangered by the increasing breeze.

  If, however, she were really tacking, our situation would indeed becritical. A very few moments put a period to our suspense by confirmingArthur's opinion, and our worst fears; the stranger had altered hercourse, her yards were braced round, and she was standing further out tosea. Still, however, there would have been a possibility of reachingher, but for the failure of light, for she had not so far changed hercourse, but that she would have to pass a point, which we could probablygain before her. But now, it was with difficulty, and only by means ofthe cloud of canvass she carried, that we could distinguish her throughthe momently deepening gloom; and with sinking hearts we relinquishedthe last hopes connected with her. Soon she entirely vanished from oursight, and when we gazed anxiously around the narrow horizon that nowbounded our vision, sky and water alone met our view.