The Island Home

by Richard Archer

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  AT SEA.

  A NIGHT OF GLOOM--MORTON'S NARRATIVE--VISIONARY TERRORS--AN ALARMINGDISCOVERY.

  "O'er the deep! o'er the deep! Where the whale, and the shark, and the sword-fish sleep."

  Even in open day, the distance of a few miles would be sufficient tosink the low shores of the island; and now that night had so suddenlyovertaken us, it might be quite near, without our being able todistinguish it.

  We were even uncertain, and divided in opinion, as to the direction inwhich it lay--so completely were we bewildered. The night was one ofdeep and utter gloom. There was no moon; and not a single star shed itsfeeble light over the wilderness of agitated waters, upon which ourlittle boat was tossing. Heavy, low-hanging clouds, covered the sky;but soon, even these could no longer be distinguished; a cold, dampmist, dense, and almost palpable to the touch, crept over the ocean, andenveloped us so closely, that it was impossible to see clearly from oneend of the yawl to the other.

  The wind, however, instead of freshening, as we had feared, diedgradually away. For this, we had reason to be thankful; for though oursituation that night seemed dismal enough, yet how much more fearfulwould it have been, if the rage of the elements, and danger of immediatedestruction, had been added to the other circumstances of terror bywhich we were surrounded?

  As it was, however, the sea having gone down, we supposed ourselves tobe in no great or pressing peril. Though miserably uncomfortable, andsomewhat agitated and anxious, we yet confidently expected that thelight of morning would show us the land again.

  The terrible and exciting scenes through which we had so recentlypassed, had completely exhausted us, and we were too much overwhelmed bythe suddenness of our calamity, and the novel situation in which we nowfound ourselves, to be greatly disposed to talk. Johnny sobbed himselfasleep in Arthur's arms; and even Max's usual spirits seemed now to havequite forsaken him. After the mast had been unstepped, and suchpreparations as our circumstances permitted were made, for passing thenight comfortably, Morton related all that he knew of what had takenplace on shore, previous to the alarm which he had given.

  I repeat the narrative as nearly as possible in his own words, notperhaps altogether as he related it on that night, for the circumstanceswere not then favourable to a full and orderly account, but partly as Iafterwards, in various conversations, gathered the particulars from him.

  "You recollect," said he, "that we separated at the boats; Mr Frazerand the rest of you, going along the shore towards the point, leavingBrowne declaiming Byron's Address to the Ocean, from the top of a coralblock, with myself and the breakers for an audience. Shortlyafterwards, I strolled off towards the interior, and left Browne lyingon the sand, with his pocket Shakespeare, where we found him, when wereached the boats. I kept on inland, until the forest became so dense,and was so overgrown with tangled vines and creeping plants, that Icould penetrate no farther in that direction. In endeavouring toreturn, I got bewildered, and at length fairly lost, having no clearnotion as to the direction of the beach. The groves were so thick anddark as to shut out the light almost entirely; and I could not get aglimpse of the sun so as to fix the points of the compass. At last Icame to an opening, large enough to let in the light, and show which waythe shadows fell. Knowing that we had landed on the west side of theisland, I could now select my course without hesitation. It was gettinglate in the afternoon, and I walked as fast as the nature of the groundwould allow, until I unexpectedly found myself at the edge of the grove,east of the spring where the men were at work filling the breakers. Themoment I came in sight of them, I perceived that something unusual wastaking place. The first officer and Luerson were standing opposite eachother, and the men, pausing from their work, were looking on. As Iinferred, Mr Nichol had given some order, which Luerson had refused toobey. Both looked excited, but no words passed between them after Ireached the place. There was a pause of nearly a minute, when MrNichol advanced as if to lay hands on Luerson, and the latter struck hima blow with his cooper's mallet, which he held in his hand, and knockedhim down. Before he had time to rise, Atoa, the Sandwich Islander,sprang upon him, and stabbed him twice with his belt-knife. All thispassed so rapidly, that no one had a chance to interfere--"

  "Hark!" said Browne, interrupting the narration, "what noise is that?It sounds like the breaking of the surf upon the shore."

  But the rest of us could distinguish no sound except the washing of thewaves against the boat. The eye was of no assistance in decidingwhether we were near the shore or not, as it was impossible to penetratethe murky darkness, a yard in any direction.

  "We must be vigilant," said Arthur, "the land cannot be far-off, and wemay be drifted upon it before morning."

  After listening for some moments in anxious silence, we became satisfiedthat Browne had been mistaken, and Morton proceeded.

  "Just as Atoa sprang upon Mr Nichol and stabbed him, Mr Knight, whowas the first to recover his presence of mind, seized the murderer, andwrenched the knife from his hand, at the same time calling on the men tosecure Luerson; but no one stirred to do so. A part seemed confused andundecided; while others appeared to me, to have been fully prepared forwhat had taken place. One man stepped forward near Luerson, anddeclared in a brutal and excited manner, that `Nichol was a bloodytyrant, and had got what he deserved, and that no man could blameLuerson for taking his revenge, after being treated as he had been.'For a moment all was clamour and confusion; then Luerson approached MrKnight in a threatening manner, and bade him loose Atoa, instead ofwhich, he held his prisoner firmly with one hand, and warning Luersonoff with the other, called on the men to stand by their officers. Justat this moment, Mr Frazer, with his gun on his shoulder, came out ofthe grove from the side toward the shore, and to him Mr Knight eagerlyappealed for assistance in securing the murderers of Mr Nichol.Pointing from the bleeding corpse at his feet, to Luerson, hesaid--`There is the ringleader--shoot him through the head at once, andthat will finish the matter--otherwise we shall all be murdered--fire, Iwill answer for the act?'

  "Frazer seemed to comprehend the situation of things at a glance. Withgreat presence of mind, he stepped back a pace, and bringing his gun tohis shoulder, called on Luerson to throw down his weapon, and surrenderhimself, declaring that he would shoot the first man who lifted a handto assist him. His manner was such as to leave no doubt of hissincerity, or his resolution. The men had no fire-arms, and werestaggered by the suddenness of the thing; they stood hesitating andundecided. Mr Knight seized this as a favourable moment, and advancedupon Luerson, with the intention of securing him, and the islander wasthus left free. At this moment I observed the man who had denounced MrNichol, and justified Luerson, stealing round behind Frazer. I calledout to him at the top of my voice to warn him; but he did not seem tohear. I looked for something which might serve me for a weapon; butthere was nothing, not so much as a broken bough within reach, and inanother instant, the whole thing was over. As Knight grappled withLuerson, he dropped the knife which he had wrested from Atoa, hisintention evidently being to secure, and not to kill him.

  "Atoa immediately leaped forward and seized the knife, and had his armalready raised to stab Mr Knight in the back, when Frazer shot himdead. At almost the same instant, Luerson struck Mr Knight atremendous blow on the head with his mallet, which felled him to theearth, stunned and lifeless. He next rushed upon Frazer, who had fairlycovered him with the muzzle of his piece, and would inevitably have shothim, but just as he pulled the trigger, the man whom I had seen creepinground behind him, sprang upon him, and deranged his aim; two or three ofthe others, who had stood looking on, taking no part in the affair, nowinterposed, and by their assistance Frazer was overpowered and secured.Whether they murdered him or not, as Luerson afterwards declared, I donot know. As soon as the struggle was over, the man who had secondedLuerson so actively throughout, (the tall dark man who goes by the nameof `the Boatswain,') shouted out, `Now, then, for the ship!' `Yes, forthe ship!'
cried Luerson, `though this has not come about just as wasarranged, and has been hurried on sooner than we expected; it is as wellso as any way, and must be followed up. There's no one aboard but thecaptain, and four or five men and boys, all told: the landsmen are allashore, scattered over the island. We can take her without risk--andthen for a merry life at the islands!'

  "This revealed the designs of the mutineers, and I determined toanticipate them if possible. As I started for the beach I was observed,and they hailed me; but without paying any attention to their shouts, Iran as fast, at least, as I ever ran before, until I came out of theforest, near where you were standing."

  From the words of Luerson which Morton had heard, it was clear that themutiny had not been a sudden and unpremeditated act; and we had no doubtthat it had grown out of the difficulties at the Kingsmills, between himand the unfortunate Mr Nichol.

  It was quite late before we felt any disposition to sleep; butnotwithstanding the excitement and the discomforts of our situation, webegan at length to experience the effects of the fatigue and anxietywhich we had undergone, and bestowing ourselves as conveniently aspossible about the boat, which furnished but slender accommodations forsuch a number, we bade each other the accustomed "good night," and oneby one dropped asleep.

  Knowing that we could not be far from land, and aware of our liabilityto be drifted ashore during the night, it had been decided to maintain awatch. Arthur, Morton, and I had agreed to divide the time between usas accurately as possible, and to relieve one another in turn. Thefirst watch fell to Arthur, the last to me, and, after exacting apromise from Morton, that he would not fail to awaken me when it wasfairly my turn, I laid down upon the ceiling planks, close against theside of the boat between which, and Browne, who was next me, there wasbarely room to squeeze myself.

  It was a dreary night. The air was damp, and even chilly. Theweltering of the waves upon the outside of the thin plank against whichmy head was pressed, made a dismal kind of music, and suggested vividlyhow frail was the only barrier that separated us from the wide, darkwaste of waters, below and around.

  The heavy, dirge-like swell of the ocean, though soothing, in theregularity and monotony of its sluggish motion, sounded inexpressiblymournful.

  The gloom of the night, and the tragic scenes of the day, seemed to givecharacter to my dreams, for they were dark and hideous, and so terriblyvivid, that I several times awoke strangely agitated.

  At one time I saw Luerson, with a countenance of supernatural malignity,and the expression of a fiend, murdering poor Frazer. At another, ourboat seemed drawn by some irresistible, but unseen power, to the vergeof a yawning abyss, and began to descend between green-glancing walls ofwater, to vast depths, where undescribed sea-monsters, never seen uponthe surface, glided about in an obscurity that increased theirhideousness. Suddenly the feeble light that streamed down into the gulfthrough the green translucent sea, seemed to be cut off; the liquidwalls closed above our heads; and we were whirled away, with the soundof rushing waters, and in utter darkness.

  All this was vague and confused, and consisted of the usual "stuff thatdreams are made of." What followed, was wonderfully vivid and real:every thing was as distinct as a picture, and it has left an indelibleimpression upon my mind; there was something about it far more awfulthan all the half-defined shapes and images of terror that preceded it.

  I seemed to be all alone, in our little boat, in the midst of the sea.It was night--and what a night! not a breath of wind rippled the glassywaters. There was no moon, but the sky was cloudless, and the starswere out, in solemn and mysterious beauty. Every thing seemedpreternaturally still, and I felt oppressed by a strange sense ofloneliness; I looked round in vain for some familiar object, the sightof which might afford me relief. But far, far as the eye could reach,to the last verge of the horizon, where the gleaming sapphire vaultclosed down upon the sea, stretched one wide, desolate, unbrokenexpanse. I seemed to be isolated and cut off from all living things:

  "Alone--alone, all, all alone! Alone on the wide, wide sea; So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be."

  And there was something in this feeling, and in the universal,death-like silence, that was unutterably awful. I tried to pray--tothink of God as present even there--to think of Him as "Our Father"--ascaring for and loving his creatures--and thus to escape the desolatingsense of loneliness that oppressed me. But it was in vain; I could notpray: there was something in the scene that mocked at faith, and seemedin harmony with the dreary creed of the atheist. The horrible idea of agodless universe came upon me, bidding me relinquish, as a fondillusion, the belief in a Heavenly Father,--

  "Who sees with equal eye, as Lord of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall."

  Language cannot express the desolation of that thought.

  Then the scene changed once more. We were again on board the ship, andin the power of the enraged mutineers, about to suffer whatever theirvengeance might impel them to inflict. Poor Spot was swinging, a lividcorpse, at one of the yard-arms. Browne was bound to the main-mast,while Luerson and his fiendish crew were exhausting their ingenuity intorturing him. The peculiar expression of his mild, open countenance,distorted by pain, went to my heart, and the sound of that familiar andfriendly voice, now hoarse and broken, and quivering with agony,thrilled me with horror. As he besought his tormentors to kill him atonce, I thought that I kneeled to Luerson, and seconded the entreaty--the greatest favour that could be hoped from him. The rest of us weredoomed to walk the plank. Morton was stern and silent; Max pale andsorrowful; his arm was round my neck, and he murmured that life wassweet, and that it was a hard and terrible thing to die--to die so!Arthur, calm and collected, cheered and encouraged us; and his faceseemed like the face of an angel, as he spoke sweetly and solemnly, ofthe goodness and the love of God, and bade us put our whole trust andhope in Christ our Saviour. His earnest words and serene look, soothedand strengthened us; we also became calm and almost resigned. There wasno abject fear, no useless cries, or supplications to our foes formercy; but the solemn sense of the awfulness of death, was mingled witha sweet and sustaining faith in God, and Christ, and Immortality. Handin hand, like brothers, we were preparing to take the fearful plunge--when I started and awoke.

  Even the recollection of our real situation was insufficient to impairthe deep sense of relief which I experienced. My first impulse was tothank God that these were but dreams; and if I had obeyed the next, Ishould have embraced heartily each of my slumbering companions; for inthe first confusion of thought and feeling, my emotions were very muchwhat they would naturally have been, had the scenes of visionary terror,in which we seemed to have just participated together, been real.

  Morton was at his post, and I spoke to him, scarcely knowing or caringwhat I said. All I wanted, was to hear his voice, to revive the senseof companionship, and so escape the painful impressions which even yetclung to me.

  He said that he had just commenced his watch, Arthur having called himbut a few moments before. The night was still lowering and overcast,but there was less wind and sea than when I first laid down. I proposedto relieve him at once, but he felt no greater inclination to sleep thanmyself and we watched together until morning. The two or three hoursimmediately before dawn seemed terribly long. Just as the first greylight appeared in the east, Arthur joined us. A dense volume of vapourwhich rested upon the water, and contributed to the obscurity in whichwe were enveloped, now gathered slowly into masses, and floated upwardas the day advanced, gradually clearing the prospect; and we keptlooking out for the island, in the momentary expectation of seeing itloom up before us through the mist. But when, as the light increased,and the fog rolled away, the boundaries of our vision rapidly enlarged,and still no land could be seen, we began to feel seriously alarmed. Ashort period of intense and painful anxiety followed, during which wecontinued alternately gazing, and waiting for more light, and againstraining our aching eyes in every direction, and still in vain.


  At last it became evident that we had in some manner drifted completelyaway from the island. The appalling conviction could no longer beresisted. There we were, lost and helpless, on the open ocean, in ourchip of a boat, without provisions for a single day, or, to speak moredefinitely, without a morsel of bread or a drop of water.