CHAPTER VI.
She’s in a scene of nature’s war, The winds and waters are at strife; And both with her contending for The brittle thread of human life.
Miss Gould.
Spike was sleeping hard in his berth, quite early on the followingmorning, before the return of light, indeed, when he suddenly startedup, rubbed his eyes, and sprang upon deck like a man alarmed. He hadheard, or fancied he had heard, a cry. A voice once well known andlistened to, seemed to call him in the very portals of his ear. At firsthe had listened to its words in wonder, entranced like the bird by thesnake, the tones recalling scenes and persons that had once possesseda strong control over his rude feelings. Presently the voice becameharsher in its utterance, and it said.
“Stephen Spike, awake! The hour is getting late, and you have enemiesnearer to you than you imagine. Awake, Stephen, awake!”
When the captain was on his feet, and had plunged his head into a basinof water that stood ready for him in the state-room, he could not havetold, for his life, whether he had been dreaming or waking, whether whathe had heard was the result of a feverish imagination, or of the lawsof nature. The call haunted him all that morning, or until events ofimportance so pressed upon him as to draw his undivided attention tothem alone.
It was not yet day. The men were still in heavy sleep, lying about thedecks, for they avoided the small and crowded forecastle in that warmclimate, and the night was apparently at its deepest hour. Spike walkedforward to look for the man charged with the anchor-watch. It provedto be Jack Tier, who was standing near the galley, his arms folded asusual, apparently watching the few signs of approaching day that werebeginning to be apparent in the western sky. The captain was in noneof the best humours with the steward’s assistant; but Jack hadunaccountably got an ascendency over his commander, which it wascertainly very unusual for any subordinate in the Swash to obtain.Spike had deferred more to Mulford than to any mate he had ever beforeemployed; but this was the deference due to superior information,manners, and origin. It was common-place, if not vulgar; whereas,the ascendency obtained by little Jack Tier was, even to its subject,entirely inexplicable. He was unwilling to admit it to himself in themost secret manner, though he had begun to feel it on all occasionswhich brought them in contact, and to submit to it as a thing not to beaverted.
“Jack Tier,” demanded the captain, now that he found himself once morealone with the other, desirous of obtaining his opinion on a point thatharassed him, though he knew not why; “Jack Tier, answer me one thing.Do you believe that we saw the form of a dead or of a living man at thefoot of the light-house?”
“The dead are never seen leaning against walls in that manner, StephenSpike,” answered Jack, coolly, not even taking the trouble to uncoilhis arms. “What you saw was a living man; and you would do well to be onyour guard against him. Harry Mulford is not your friend--and there isreason for it.”
“Harry Mulford, and living! How can that be, Jack? You know the port inwhich he chose to run.”
“I know the rock on which you chose to abandon him, Captain Spike.”
“If so, how could he be living and at the Dry Tortugas. The thing isimpossible!”
“The thing is so. You saw Harry Mulford, living and well, and ready tohunt you to the gallows. Beware of him, then; and beware of his handsomewife!”
“Wife! the fellow has no wife--he has always professed to be a singleman!”
“The man is married--and I bid you beware of his handsome wife. She,too, will be a witness ag’in you.”
“This will be news, then, for Rose Budd. I shall delight in telling itto _her,_ at least.”
“‘T will be _no_ news to Rose Budd. She was present at the wedding,and will not be taken by surprise. Rose loves Harry too well to let himmarry, and she not present at the wedding.”
“Jack, you talk strangely! What is the meaning of all this? I am captainof this craft, and will not be trifled with--tell me at once yourmeaning, fellow.”
“My meaning is simple enough, and easily told. Rose Budd is the wife ofHarry Mulford.”
“You’re dreaming, fellow, or are wishing to trifle with me!”
“It may be a dream, but it is one that will turn out to be true. If theyhave found the Poughkeepsie sloop-of-war, as I make no doubt they haveby this time, Mulford and Rose are man and wife.”
“Fool! you know not what you say! Rose is at this moment in her berth,sick at heart on account of the young gentleman who preferred to live onthe Florida Reef rather than to sail in the Molly!”
“Rose is _not_ in her berth, sick or well; neither is she on board thisbrig at all. She went off in the light-house boat to deliver her loverfrom the naked rock--and well did she succeed in so doing. God was ofher side, Stephen Spike; and a body seldom fails with such a friend tosupport one.”
Spike was astounded at these words, and not less so at the cool andconfident manner with which they were pronounced. Jack spoke in acertain dogmatical, oracular manner, it is true, one that might havelessened his authority with a person over whom he had less influence;but this in no degree diminished its effect on Spike. On the contrary,it even disposed the captain to yield an implicit faith to what heheard, and all so much the more because the facts he was told appearedof themselves to be nearly impossible. It was half a minute before hehad sufficiently recovered from his surprise to continue the discourse.
“The light-house boat!” Spike then slowly repeated. “Why, fellow, youtold me the light-house boat went adrift from your own hands!”
“So it did,” answered Jack, coolly, “since I cast off the painter--andwhat is more, went in it.”
“You! This is impossible. You are telling me a fabricated lie. If youhad gone away in that boat, how could you now be here? No, no--it is amiserable lie, and Rose is below!”
“Go and look into her state-room, and satisfy yourself with your owneyes.”
Spike did as was suggested. He went below, took a lamp that was alwayssuspended, lighted in the main cabin, and, without ceremony, proceededto Rose’s state-room, where he soon found that the bird had reallyflown. A direful execration followed this discovery, one so loud as toawaken Mrs. Budd and Biddy. Determined not to do things by halves, hebroke open the door of the widow’s state-room, and ascertained thatthe person he sought was not there. A fierce explosion of oaths anddenunciations followed, which produced an answer in the customaryscreams. In the midst of this violent scene, however, questions wereput, and answers obtained, that not only served to let the captainknow that Jack had told him nothing but truth, but to put an end toeverything like amicable relations between himself and the relict ofhis old commander. Until this explosion, appearances had been observedbetween them; but, from that moment, there must necessarily be an end ofall professions of even civility. Spike was never particularly refinedin his intercourse with females, but he now threw aside even itspretension. His rage was so great that he totally forgot his manhood,and lavished on both Mrs. Budd and Biddy epithets that were altogetherinexcusable, and many of which it will not do to repeat. Weak and sillyas was the widow, she was not without spirit; and on this occasion shewas indisposed to submit to all this unmerited abuse in silence. Biddy,as usual, took her cue from her mistress, and between the two, theirpart of the wordy conflict was kept up with a very respectable degree ofanimation.
“I know you--I know you, now!” screamed the widow, at the tope of hervoice; “and you can no longer deceive me, unworthy son of Neptune asyou are! You are unfit to be a lubber, and would be log-booked for anor’nary by every gentleman on board ship. You, a full-jiggered sea-man!No, you are not even half-jiggered, sir; and I tell you so to yourface.”
“Yes, and it is n’t _half_ that might be tould the likes of yees!” putin Biddy, as her mistress stopped to breathe. “And it’s Miss Rose you’dhave for a wife, when Biddy Noon would be too good for ye! We knows ye,and all about ye, and can give yer history as complate from the day yewas born down to the prisent moment; and not find a go
od word to sayin yer favour in all that time--and a precious time it is, too, for agentleman that would marry pretthy, _young_ Miss Rose! Och! I scorn tolook at ye, yer so ugly!”
“And trying to persuade me you were a friend of my poor, dear Mr. Budd,whose shoe you are unworthy to touch, and who had the heart and soul forthe noble profession you disgrace,” cut in the widow, the moment Biddygave her a chance, by pausing to make a wry face as she pronounced theword “ugly.” “I now believe you capasided them poor Mexicans, in orderto get their money; and the moment we cast anchor in a road-side, I’llgo ashore, and complain of you for murder, I will.”
“Do, missus, dear, and I’ll be your bail, will I, and swear to all thathappened, and more too. Och! yer a wretch, to wish to be the husband ofMiss Rose, and she so young and pretthy, and you so ould and ugly!”
“Come away--come away, Stephen Spike, and do not stand wrangling withwomen, when you and your brig, and all that belongs to you, are indanger,” called out Jack Tier from the companion-way. “Day is come; andwhat is much worse for you, your most dangerous enemy is coming withit.”
Spike was almost livid with rage, and ready to burst out in awfulmaledictions; but at this summons he sprang to the ladder, and was ondeck in a moment. At first, he felt a strong disposition to wreak hisvengeance on Tier, but, fortunately for the latter, as the captain’sfoot touched the quarter-deck, his eye fell on the Poughkeepsie, thenwithin half a league of the Swash, standing in toward the reef, thoughfully half a mile to leeward. This spectre drove all other subjectsfrom his mind, leaving the captain of the Swash in the only characterin which he could be said to be respectable, or that of a seaman. Almostinstinctively he called all hands, then he gave one brief minute to asurvey of his situation.
It was, indeed, time for the Swash to be moving. There she lay, withthree anchors down, including that of the schooner, all she had, infact, with the exception of her best bower, and one kedge, with thepurchases aloft, in readiness for hooking on to the wreck, and allthe extra securities up that had been given to the masts. As for thesloop-of-war, she was under the very same canvas as that with which shehad come out from the Dry Tortugas, or her three top-sails, spanker,and jib; but most of her other sails were loose, even to her royals andflying-jibs; though closely gathered into their spars by means of therunning gear. In a word, every sailor would know, at a glance, that theship was merely waiting for the proper moment to spread her wings,when she would be flying through the water at the top of her speed. Theweather looked dirty, and the wind was gradually increasing, threateningto blow heavily as the day advanced.
“Unshackle, unshackle!” shouted Spike to the boat-swain, who was thefirst man that appeared on deck. “The bloody sloop-of-war is upon us,and there is not a moment to lose. We must get the brig clear of theground in the shortest way we can, and abandon everything. Unshackle,and cast off for’ard and aft, men.”
A few minutes of almost desperate exertion succeeded. No men work likesailors, when the last are in a hurry, their efforts being directed tocounteracting squalls, and avoiding emergencies of the most pressingcharacter. Thus was it now with the crew of the Swash. The clanking ofchains lasted but a minute, when the parts attached to the anchors werethrust through the hawse-holes, or were dropped into the water fromother parts of the brig. This at once released the vessel, though agreat deal remained to be done to clear her for working, and to put herin the best trim.
“Away with this out-hauler!” again shouted Spike, casting loose themain-brails as he did so; “loose the jibs!”
All went on at once, and the Swash moved away from the grave of thepoor carpenter with the ease and facility of motion that marked all herevolutions. Then the top-sail was let fall, and presently all the uppersquare-sails were sheeted home, and hoisted, and the fore-tack washauled aboard. The Molly was soon alive, and jumping into the seas thatmet her with more power than was common, as she drew out from under theshelter of the reef into rough water. From the time when Spike gavehis first order, to that when all his canvas was spread, was just sevenminutes.
The Poughkeepsie, with her vastly superior crew, was not idle the while.Although the watch below was not disturbed, she tacked beautifully, andstood off the reef, in a line parallel to the course of the brig, anddistant from her about half a mile. Then sail was made, her tacks havingbeen boarded in stays. Spike knew the play of his craft was short legs,for she was so nimble in her movements that he believed she couldgo about in half the time that would be required for a vessel of thePoughkeepsie’s length. “Ready about,” was his cry, therefore, when lessthan a mile distant from the reef--“ready about, and let her go round.” Round the Molly did go, like a top, being full on the other tack in justfifty-six seconds. The movement of the corvette was more stately, andsomewhat more deliberate. Still, she stayed beautifully, and both Spikeand the boatswain shook their heads, as they saw her coming into thewind with her sails all lifting and the sheets flowing.
“That fellow will fore-reach a cable’s length before he gets about!” exclaimed Spike. “He will prove too much for us at this sport! Keep heraway, my man--keep the brig away for the passage. We must run throughthe reef, instead of trusting ourselves to our heels in open water.”
The brig was kept away accordingly, and sheets were eased off, andbraces just touched, to meet the new line of sailing. As the wind stood,it was possible to lay through the passage on an easy bowline, thoughthe breeze, which was getting to be fresher than Spike wished it to be,promised to haul more to the southward of east, as the day advanced.Nevertheless, this was the Swash’s best point of sailing, and all onboard of her had strong hopes of her being too much for her pursuer,could she maintain it. Until this feeling began to diffuse itself in thebrig, not a countenance was to be seen on her decks that did not betrayintense anxiety; but now something like grim smiles passed among thecrew, as their craft seemed rather to fly than force her way through thewater, toward the entrance of the passage so often adverted to in thisnarrative.
On the other hand, the Poughkeepsie was admirably sailed and handled.Everybody was now on deck, and the first lieutenant had taken thetrumpet. Captain Mull was a man of method, and a thorough man-of-war’sman. Whatever he did was done according to rule, and with great system.Just as the Swash was about to enter the passage, the drum of thePoughkeepsie beat to quarters. No sooner were the men mustered, in theleeward, or the starboard batteries, than orders were sent to cast loosethe guns, and to get them ready for service. Owing to the more leewardposition of his vessel, and to the fact that she always head-reached somuch in stays, Captain Mull knew that she would not lose much by luffinginto the wind, or by making half-boards, while he might gain everythingby one well-directed shot.
The strife commenced by the sloop-of-war, firing her weather bow-gun,single-shotted, at the Swash. No damage was done, though the fore-yardof the brig had a very narrow escape. This experiment was repeated threetimes, without even a rope-yarn being carried away, though the gun waspointed by Wallace himself, and well pointed, too. But it is possiblefor a shot to come very near its object and still to do no injury. Suchwas the fact on this occasion, though the “ship’s gentleman” was a gooddeal mortified by the result. Men look so much at success as the test ofmerit, that few pause to inquire into the reasons of failures, thoughit frequently happens that adventures prosper by means of their veryblunders. Captain Mull now determined on a half-board, for his ship wasmore to leeward than he desired. Directions were given to the officersin the batteries to be deliberate, and the helm was put down. As theship shot into the wind, each gun was fired, as it could be brought tobear, until the last of them all was discharged. Then the course of thevessel was changed, the helm being righted before the ship had lost herway, and the sloop-of-war fell off again to her course.
All this was done in such a short period of time as scarcely to causethe Poughkeepsie to lose anything, while it did the Swash the mostserious injury. The guns had been directed at the brig’s spars andsails, Captain Mull desiri
ng no more than to capture his chase, and thedestruction they produced aloft was such as to induce Spike and his men,at first, to imagine that the whole hamper above their heads was aboutto come clattering down on deck. One shot carried away all the weatherfore-top-mast rigging of the brig, and would no doubt have brought aboutthe loss of the mast, if another, that almost instantly succeededit, had not cut the spar itself in two, bringing down, as a matter ofcourse, everything above it. Nearly half of the main-mast was gougedout of that spar, and the gaff was taken fairly out of its jaws. Thefore-yard was cut in the slings, and various important ropes werecarried away in different parts of the vessel.
Flight, under such circumstances, was impossible, unless someextraordinary external assistance was to be obtained. This Spike sawat once, and he had recourse to the only expedient that remained; whichmight possibly yet save him. The guns were still belching forth theirsmoke and flames, when he shouted out the order to put the helm hard up.The width of the passage in which the vessels were was not so great butthat he might hope to pass across it, and to enter a channel amongthe rocks, which was favourably placed for such a purpose, ere thesloop-of-war could overtake him. Whither that channel led, what water itpossessed, or whether it were not a shallow _cul de sac,_ were all factsof which Spike was ignorant. The circumstances, however, would not admitof an alternative.
Happily for the execution of Spike’s present design, nothing fromaloft had fallen into the water, to impede the brig’s way. Forward,in particular, she seemed all wreck; her fore-yard having come downaltogether, so as to encumber the forecastle, while her top-mast, withits dependent spars and gear, was suspended but a short distance above.Still, nothing had gone over the side, so as actually to touch thewater, and the craft obeyed her helm as usual. Away she went, then,for the lateral opening in the reef just mentioned, driven ahead bythe pressure of a strong breeze on her sails, which still offeredlarge surfaces to the wind, at a rapid rate. Instead of keeping awayto follow, the Poughkeepsie maintained her luff, and just as the Swashentered the unknown passage, into which she was blindly plunging, thesloop-of-war was about a quarter of a mile to windward, and standingdirectly across her stern. Nothing would have been easier, now, than forCaptain Mull to destroy his chase; but humanity prevented his firing.He knew that her career must be short, and he fully expected to see heranchor; when it would be easy for him to take possession with hisboats. With this expectation, indeed, he shortened sail, furlingtop-gallant-sails, and hauling up his courage. By this time, the windhad so much freshened, as to induce him to think of putting in a reef,and the step now taken had a double object in view.
To the surprise of all on board the man-of-war, the brig continued on,until she was fully a mile distant, finding her way deeper and deeperamong the mazes of the reef without meeting with any impediment! Thisfact induced Captain Mull to order his Paixhans to throw their shellsbeyond her, by way of a hint to anchor. While the guns were gettingready, Spike stood on boldly, knowing it was neck or nothing, andbeginning to feel a faint revival of hope, as he found himself gettingfurther and further from his pursuers, and the rocks not fetching himup. Even the men, who had begun to murmur at what seemed to them to berisking too much, partook, in a slight degree, of the same feeling, andbegan to execute the order they had received to try to get the launchinto the water, with some appearance of an intention to succeed.Previously, the work could scarcely be said to go on at all; but two orthree of the older seamen now bestirred themselves, and suggestions weremade and attended to, that promised results. But it was no easy thing toget the launch out of a half-rigged brig, that had lost her fore-yard,and which carried nothing square abaft. A derrick was used in common,to lift the stern of the boat, but a derrick would now be useless aft,without an assistant forward. While these things were in discussion,under the superintendence of the boatswain, and Spike was standingbetween the knight-heads, conning the craft, the sloop-of-war let flythe first of her hollow shot. Down came the hurtling mass upon theSwash, keeping every head elevated and all eyes looking for the darkobject, as it went booming through the air above their heads. The shotpassed fully a mile to leeward, where it exploded. This great range hadbeen given to the first shot, with a view to admonish the captain howlong he must continue under the guns of the ship, and as advice to cometo. The second gun followed immediately. Its shot was seem to ricochet,directly in a line with the brig, making leaps of about half a milein length. It struck the water about fifty yards astern of the vessel,bounded directly over her decks, passing through the main-sail and someof the fallen hamper forward, and exploded about a hundred yards ahead.As usually happens with such projectiles, most of the fragments wereeither scattered laterally, or went on, impelled by the originalmomentum.
The effect of this last gun on the crew of the Swash was instantaneousand deep. The faint gleamings of hope vanished at once, and a livelyconsciousness of the desperate nature of their condition succeeded inevery mind. The launch was forgotten, and, after conferring together fora moment, the men went in a body, with the boatswain at their head, tothe forecastle, and offered a remonstrance to their commander, onthe subject of holding out any longer, under circumstances so veryhazardous, and which menaced their lives in so many different ways.Spike listened to them with eyes that fairly glared with fury. Heordered them back to their duty in a voice of thunder, tapping thebreast of his jacket, where he was known to carry revolvers, with asignificance that could convey but one meaning.
It is wonderful the ascendency that men sometimes obtain over theirfellows, by means of character, the habits of command, and obedience,and intimidation. Spike was a stern disciplinarian, relying on thatand ample pay for the unlimited control he often found it necessaryto exercise over his crew. On the present occasion, his people wereprofoundly alarmed, but habitual deference and submission to theirleader counteracted the feeling, and held them in suspense. They werefully aware of the nature of the position they occupied in a legalsense, and were deeply reluctant to increase the appearances of crime;but most of them had been extricated from so many grave difficulties informer instances, by the coolness, nerve and readiness of the captain,that a latent ray of hope was perhaps dimly shining in the rude breastof every old sea-dog among them. As a consequence of these severalcauses, they abandoned their remonstrance, for the moment at least, andmade a show of returning to their duty; though it was in a sullen andmoody manner.
It was easier, however, to make a show of hoisting out the launch, thanto effect the object. This was soon made apparent on trial, and Spikehimself gave the matter up. He ordered the yawl to be lowered, gotalongside, and to be prepared for the reception of the crew, by puttinginto it a small provision of food and water. All this time the brig wasrushing madly to leeward, among rocks and breakers, without any otherguide than that which the visible dangers afforded. Spike knew no morewhere he was going than the meanest man in his vessel. His sole aim wasto get away from his pursuers, and to save his neck from the rope. Hemagnified the danger of punishment that he really ran, for he best knewthe extent and nature of his crimes, of which the few that have beenlaid before the reader, while they might have been amongst the mostprominent, as viewed through the statutes and international law, werefar from the gravest he had committed in the eyes of morals.
About this time the Señor Montefalderon went forward to confer withSpike. The calmness of this gentleman’s demeanour, the simplicity andcoolness of his movements, denoted a conscience that saw no particularground for alarm. He wished to escape captivity, that he might continueto serve his country, but no other apprehension troubled him.
“Do you intend to trust yourself in the yawl, Don Esteban?” demanded theMexican quietly. “If so, is she not too small to contain so many as weshall make altogether?”
Spike’s answer was given in a low voice; and it evidently came from avery husky throat.
“Speak lower, Don Wan,” he said. “The boat would be greatly overloadedwith all hands in it, especially among the breakers, and blowing as itd
oes; but we may leave some of the party behind.”
“The brig _must_ go on the rocks, sooner or later, Don Esteban; when shedoes, she will go to pieces in an hour.
“I expect to hear her strike every minute, señor; the moment she does,we must be off. I have had my eye on that ship for some time, expectingto see her lower her cutters and gigs to board us. _You_ will not beout of the way, Don Wan; but there is no need of being talkative on thesubject of our escape.”
Spike now turned his back on the Mexican, looking anxiously ahead, withthe desire to get as far into the reef as possible with his brig, whichhe conned with great skill and coolness. The Señor Montefalderon lefthim. With the chivalry and consideration of a man and a gentleman, hewent in quest of Mrs. Budd and Biddy. A hint sufficed for them, andgathering together a few necessaries they were in the yawl in the nextthree minutes. This movement was unseen by Spike, or he might haveprevented it. His eyes were now riveted on the channel ahead. It hadbeen fully his original intention to make off in the boat, the instantthe brig struck, abandoning not only Don Juan, with Mrs. Budd and Biddyto their fates, but most of the crew. A private order had been given tothe boatswain, and three of the ablest-bodied among the seamen, each andall of whom kept the secret with religious fidelity, as it was believedtheir own personal safety might be connected with the success of thisplan.
Nothing is so contagious as alarm. It requires not only great naturalsteadiness of nerve, but much acquired firmness to remain unmoved whensudden terror has seized on the minds of those around us. Habitualrespect had prevented the crew from interfering with the movementsof the Mexican, who not only descended into the boat with his femalecompanions uninterrupted, but also took with him the little bagof doubloons which fell to his share from the first raising of theschooner. Josh and Jack Tier assisted in getting Mrs. Budd and Biddyover the side, and both took their own places in the yawl, as soon asthis pious duty was discharged. This served as a hint to others nearat hand; and man after man left his work to steal into the yawl, untilevery living being had disappeared from the deck of the Swash, Spikehimself excepted. The man at the wheel had been the last to deserthis post, nor would he have done so then, but for a signal from theboatswain, with whom he was a favourite.
It is certain there was a secret desire among the people of the Swash,who were now crowded into a boat not large enough to contain more thanhalf their number with safety, to push off from the brig’s side, andabandon her commander and owner to his fate. All had passed so soon,however, and events succeeded each other with so much rapidity, thatlittle time was given for consultation. Habit kept them in their places,though the appearances around them were strong motives for taking careof themselves.
Notwithstanding the time necessary to relate the foregoing events,a quarter of an hour had not elapsed, from the moment when the Swashentered this unknown channel among the rocks, ere she struck. No soonerwas her helm deserted than she broached-to, and Spike was in the actof denouncing the steerage, ignorant of its cause, when the brig wasthrown, broadside-to, on a sharp, angular bed of rocks. It was fortunatefor the boat, and all in it, that it was brought to leeward by thebroaching-to of the vessel, and that the water was still sufficientlydeep around them to prevent the waves from breaking. Breakers therewere, however, in thousands, on every side; and the seamen understoodthat their situation was almost desperately perilous, without shipwreckcoming to increase the danger.
The storm itself was scarcely more noisy and boisterous than was Spike,when he ascertained the manner in which his people had behaved. Atfirst, he believed it was their plan to abandon him to his fate; but, onrushing to the lee-gangway, Don Juan Montefalderon assured him that nosuch intention existed, and that he would not allow the boat to be castoff until the captain was received on board. This brief respite gaveSpike a moment to care for his portion of the doubloons; and he rushedto his state-room to secure them, together with his quadrant.
The grinding of the brig’s bottom on the coral, announced a speedybreaking up of the craft, while her commander was thus employed. Soviolent were some of the shocks with which she came down on the hardbed in which she was now cradled, that Spike expected to see her burstasunder, while he was yet on her decks. The cracking of timbers toldhim that all was over with the Swash, nor had he got back as far as thegangway with his prize, before he saw plainly that the vessel had brokenher back, as it is termed, and that her plank-sheer was opening in a waythat threatened to permit a separation of the craft into two sections,one forward and the other aft. Notwithstanding all these portentousproofs that the minutes of the Molly were numbered, and the danger thatexisted of his being abandoned by his crew, Spike paused a moment, erehe went over the vessel’s side, to take a hasty survey of the reef. Hisobject was to get a general idea of the position of the breakers, with aview to avoid them. As much of the interest of that which is to succeedis connected with these particular dangers, it may be well to explaintheir character, along with a few other points of a similar bearing.
The brig had gone ashore fully two miles within the passage she hadentered, and which, indeed, terminated at the very spot where she hadstruck. The Poughkeepsie was standing off and on, in the main channel,with her boats in the water, evidently preparing to carry the brig inthat mode. As for the breakers, they whitened the surface of the oceanin all directions around the wreck, far as the eye could reach, but intwo. The passage in which the Poughkeepsie was standing to and fro wasclear of them, of course; and about a mile and a half to the northward,Spike saw that he should be in open water, or altogether on the northernside of the reef, could he only get there. The gravest dangers wouldexist in the passage, which led among breakers on all sides, and verypossibly among rocks so near the surface as absolutely to obstruct theway. In one sense, however, the breakers were useful. By avoiding themas much as possible, and by keeping in the unbroken water, the boatwould be running in the channels of the reef, and consequently wouldbe the safer. The result of the survey, short as it was, and it did notlast a minute, was to give Spike something like a plan; and when he wentover the side, and got into the boat, it was with a determination towork his way out of the reef to its northern edge, as soon as possible,and then to skirt it as near as he could, in his flight toward the DryTortugas.
Jack Tier; Or, The Florida Reef Page 14