CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE TAIL-END OF A TYPHOON.
"But I allers heard them Malay chaps are awful cowards," said Adams,continuing the conversation. "You never sees 'em singly, their pirateproas, or junks, allers a sailing with a consort. I ought ter know;'cause, 'fore I ever jined Cap'en Gillespie, I wer in a Hongkong trader;and many's the time we've been chased by a whole shoal of 'em when goingto Singapore or along the coast."
"The divil ye have," interposed Tim. "Ye niver tould me that afore,Sails, how's that?"
"I didn't recomember at the time, bo; but now, as that feller is afollering us astern, in course, I thinks on it. There're a lot of thempiratical rascals in these waters; but you should go to the back ofHainan to see 'em in their glory, the little creeks and bays therefairly swarms with 'em!"
"Adams!" called out Mr Mackay at this juncture; "Adams!"
"Aye, aye, sir," quickly responded the sailmaker, stopping his talk withTim Rooney and walking up nearer to Mr Mackay. "Here, sir."
"I want you to go in the chains with the lead," said the other, turninground and speaking confidentially to old "Sails," as Adams was generallytermed by his intimates amongst the crew. "There's no man in the ship Ican trust to for sounding like you; and it's necessary for us to knowwhat sort of water we're in till we clear all these islands and get intothe open sea."
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the sailmaker, who, besides his moredistinctive calling, was an experienced seaman, proud of being selectedfrom the rest for such a duty, disagreeable and monotonous though itwas. "I'm quite ready, sir."
Thereupon, going back to the boatswain's cabin, where he was provided byTim with the lead-line and a broad canvas belt, he proceeded to climbover the bulwarks into the fore-chains, fastening himself to the riggingby placing the belt round his waist and hooking it on to the lower partof the shrouds--this arrangement holding him against the side of thevessel securely and at the same time enabling him to have his arms freeto use for any other purpose.
Adam's next operation was to swing the lead-line with the weightattached backwards and forwards, like a pendulum, until it had gainedsufficient momentum, when he slung it as far forwards as he could,letting the coil of the line which he had over his arm run out until theway of the ship brought it perpendicularly under him; when, hauling itup quickly, and noticing how many fathoms had run out before the leadtouched the bottom, he called out in a deep sort of sepulchral chant,"And a half-five!"
"Ha!" exclaimed Mr Mackay, "I thought we were shoaling. Keep it going,Adams."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the other, swinging the lead as before when hehad coiled up the slack and preparing for another throw; addingpresently as he had gauged the depth again, "By the mark seven!"
"That's better," cried Mr Mackay; calling out at the same time to thehelmsman as we nearly ran over a small native boat crossing our track,"starboard--hard a starboard!"
Adams, however, went on sounding mechanically, not minding the movementsof the ship, his sing-song chant varying almost at every throw; and, "Bythe deep nine" being succeeded by, "And a quarter ten," until the fulllength of the lead-line, twenty fathoms, was let out without findingbottom.
"That will do now, you can come in," cried Mr Mackay on learningthis--"we're now all right and out of danger. Aft, there, steer east-nor'-east and keep a steady helm, we're now in open water and all'splain sailing!"
It took us three days to pilot up to the Natuna Islands, only some threehundred and fifty miles north of Banca, the south-westerly wind which wehad with us generally falling slack in the middle of the day, and theland breeze of a night giving us the greater help; but, still, all thewhile, the suspicious proa never deserted us, following in our tracklike a sleuth-hound--keeping off at a good distance though when the sunwas shining and only creeping up closer at dark, so as not to lose sightof us, and sheering off in the morning till hull down nearly on thehorizon.
We had got almost accustomed to the craft by this time and used to cutjokes about it; for, as we were continually passing other vessels boundthrough the straits, it was obvious that even had the intentions of theproa been hostile it would not have dared to attack us at sea with sucha lot of company about.
However, on our getting abreast of Saddle Island, to the north-west ofthe Natuna group, behold the proa was joined by a companion, two of themnow being in our wake when morning dawned and we were better able to seearound us. We noticed, too, that this second craft was built more injunk fashion with large lateen sails, and it seemed to be of about fivehundred piculs burthen, Mr Mackay said, the size of those craft thatare usually employed in the opium trade.
Matters began to look serious, it really appearing as if the beggarswere going to follow us all the way up the China Sea until they had anopportunity of attacking us when there was no chance of any other vesselbeing near!
"Let us stand towards them, Mackay and see what they're made of--eh?"said Captain Gillespie, after squinting away at the two craft behind us."I'm hanged if I like being dodged in this way."
"With all my heart, sir," replied the other. "But, I'm afraid, asthey're well up in the wind's eye they can easily keep out of our reachif they don't want us to approach too near them."
"We'll try it at any rate," grunted out "Old Jock," sniffing andsnorting, as he always did when vexed or put out. "Stand by to 'boutship!"
The watch at once ran to their respective stations, Tom Jerrold and Iwith a couple of others attending to the cross-jack yard.
"All ready forrud?"
"Aye, aye, sorr," shouted back Tim Rooney from the forecastle, "allready forrud."
"Helms a-lee!"
The head sheets were let go as the captain roared out this order, thejib flattening as the vessel went into stays.
"Raise tacks and sheets!" cried Captain Gillespie, when the foretack andmain-sheets were cast off just as his next command came--"Main-sailhaul!"
Then the weather main-brace was hauled taut and the heavy yard swunground, the Silver Queen coming up to the wind with a sort of shiver, asif she did not like turning back and retracing her course.
However, so "Old Jock" willed it, and she must!
"Brace round your head yards!" he now sung out; and the foretack wasboarded while the main-sheet was hauled aft, we on the poop swinging thecross-jack yard at the same time, the captain then calling out to thehelmsman sharply, "Luff, you beggar, luff, can't ye!"
And now, hauled up as close as we could be, the ship headed towards thestrangers; steering back in the direction of Banca again as near towindward as she could forereach.
It was "like trying to catch a weasel asleep and shave his whiskers,"however, to use Tom Jerrold's words; for the moment the proa and herconsort observed our manoeuvre and saw that we were making for them,round they went too like tops, and sailing right up in the wind's eye,all idea of pursuit on our part was put entirely out of question withinthe short space of five minutes or so--the Malay craft showing that theyhad the power when they chose to exercise it of going two knots to ourone.
"Begorra, I'd loike to have a slap at 'em with a long thirty-two, oraven a blissid noine-pounder Armstrong," cried Tim Rooney, as vexed as"Old Jock" was at the result of this testing of the Silver Queen withher lighter heeled rivals to windward. "I'd soon knock 'em intoshavin's, by the howly poker, I wud!"
"It's no good, as you said," sniffed out the captain, with a sigh to MrMackay, evidently cordially echoing the boatswain's wish, which he musthave heard as well as I did, for he stood just to leeward of him."Ready about again, stand by, men!"
And then, our previous movement was repeated and the ship brought roundonce more on the port tack, heading for Pulo Sapata to the northwards--the name of this place, I may say, is derived from two Malay words, theone pulo meaning "island" and the other sapatu "shoe," and the entirecompound word, consequently, "Shoe Island," or the island of the shapeof one.
We did not see anything more of the suspicious craft that day; so we allbelieved that our feint of
overhauling them had effectually scared themaway, Tom Jerrold and I especially being impressed with this idea,attaching a good deal of importance to the talk we had overheard betweenRooney and Adams, Tom being in his bunk close by the boatswain's cabinat the time when I was outside listening to the two old tars as theyconfabbed together.
Weeks, though, was of a contrary opinion, and Master Sammy could be verydogged if he pleased on any point.
"I'll tell you what, my boys," said he, with some trace of excitement inhis mottled face, which generally was as expressionless as a vegetable-marrow, "we haven't seen the last of them yet."
"Much you know of it, little un," sneered Tom Jerrold in all the prideof his longer experience of the sea. "Why this is only the secondvoyage you've ever taken out here, or indeed been in a ship at all; andon our last trip we never tumbled across anything of this sort."
"That may be," argued Weeks; "but if I am a green hand, as you make out,like Graham here, my father was in a China clipper for years, and he hastold me more than you'll ever learn in all your life, Mister Jerrold, Itell you. Why, he was once chased all the way from Hainan to Swatow bypirates."
"Was he?" I cried, excited too at this. "Do tell us, Weeks, all aboutit."
"There ain't anything to tell," said he nonchalantly, but pleased, Icould see, at putting Tom Jerrold into the shade for the moment; "only,that they beat 'em off as they were trying to board father's ship offSwatow, when a vessel of war, that was just then coming down fromFormosa, caught the beggars in the very act of piracy, before they couldrun ashore and escape up the hills--as they always do, my dad said,whenever our blue-jackets are after them."
"And then--" I asked, on his pausing at this interesting point, afterrousing Jerrold's and my interest in that way, a thing which was quitein keeping with Sam Weeks' character, his disposition being naturally anexasperating one, to other people, that is,--"what happened then?"
"Oh, nothing," he replied coolly; adding after another tantalisingpause, "I recollect, though, now, dad said as how the beggars were alltaken to Canton and given over to the mandarins for trial."
"Yes," said I, "and--"
"Well, some of 'em were tortured in bamboo cages, he told me, and hesaid, too, that they made awful faces in their agony," Weeks continued,his face looking as if he enjoyed the reminiscence; "while the others,twenty in number, were all put up in a row kneeling on the ground, withtheir pigtails tied up over their heads so as to leave their necks bare,and the executioner who had a double-bladed sword like a butcher'scleaver, sliced off their heads as if they were so many carrots. Itmust have been jolly to see 'em rolling on the ground."
"You cold-blooded brute!" exclaimed Tom Jerrold; but I only shudderedand said nothing. "You seem to revel in it!"
"If you'd heard all my dad told me of what those beggars do to thepeople they capture, sometimes making them walk the plank and shuttingthem up in the hold of their own ship and burning them in a lump, you'dbe glad of their being punished when caught! I only hope they won'tseize our vessel; but, I tell you what, I'm certain we haven't seen thelast of those two craft yet. They'll come back after us at nightfall,just you see!"
"By Jove, I hope not!" said Tom, impressed by Weeks' communication allthe more from the fact of his not being generally talkative, always"keeping himself to himself" as the saying goes. "I hope you won'tprove a true prophet, Sammy, most devoutly."
I could see, also, from Mr Mackay's anxious manner and that of thecaptain, though neither said anything further about the matter, thattheir fears were not allayed. There was no doubt that they shared thesame impression as that of Sam Weeks; for as we bore away now nor'-nor'-west, with the south-west wind on our quarter, more sail was made on theship, and a strong current running in the same direction helping us on,we were found to be going over eight knots when the log was hove at sixbells, just before dinner-time.
"Old Jock" beamed again at this, walking up and down the poop andrubbing his hands and sniffing with his long nose in the air to catchthe breeze, as was his wont when the Silver Queen was travelling throughthe water.
"By Jingo, we'll weather 'em yet!" he said to Mr Mackay, who alsoseemed more relieved in his mind; "we'll weather 'em yet."
"Yes, I think so, too," said the latter, scanning the horizon with thebig telescope away to windward. "There isn't a trace of them anywhereout there now, and there are no islands for them to hide behind where welast sighted them; so, if we can only carry-on like this, perhaps we'llbe able to give them the slip--eh?"
"Humph!" grumbled the other, "so I told you, Mackay; and, you know, whenI say a thing I always mean a thing!"
The afternoon passed without any further appearance of the proa or junk,and then the evening came on, the wind veering round to our beam atsunset, making us brace up more sharply. We looked about us prettykeenly now, as might be imagined, but still nothing was to be seen ofour whilom pursuers; and so all on board turned in that night much morecomfortably than on the preceding one, when the danger appeared moreimmediate.
The morning, however, told a different tale.
At the early dawn, when I was with Mr Mackay on the poop, the portwatch coming on deck just then in their turn of duty, we could seenothing of the suspicious strangers; however as the sun rose higher up,his rays lit a more extended range of sea, and then, far-away off on thehorizon to windward, could be seen two tiny white sails in the distancedead astern of us.
"Sail ho!" shouted I from the mizzen cross-trees, where I had gone tolook out, Tom Jerrold being sent up aloft forward for the same purpose."Sail ho!"
"Where away?" cried Mr Mackay, clutching the glass and climbing up intothe rigging as he spoke, being as spry as a cat. "What do you makeout?"
"Two of them, sir," said I; "and I believe it's these pirates, sir,again. They're on our weather quarter, hull down to windward."
"Right you are, my boy!" cried he presently after a careful inspectionof the objects I had pointed out from the top, though he did not come upaloft any higher, his telescope under his arm being rather awkward tocarry. "They are the same craft, sure enough. It is most vexatious!"
He went down below to tell the captain, and, of course, the news soonspread through the ship, all hands turning out and coming on deck tohave a look at these bloodhounds of the deep, that seemed bent onpursuing us to the death.
They did not close on us, though, keeping the same distance off, someten miles or so, till sundown, when they approached a little nearer andcould be seen astern of us, through the middle watch, by the aid of thenight-glass; but they sheered off again at the breaking of this thirdday, by which time we could see Pulo Sapata right ahead, a mostuninviting spot apparently, consisting of nothing but one big bare rock.
Here, hauling round on the starboard tack, we shaped our course east-nor'-east, to pass over the Macclesfield Bank, in a straight line almostfor Formosa Strait, our most direct route to Shanghai, the proa and thejunk still keeping after us at a safe distance off.
"By Jingo, I'll tire 'em out yet!" cried "Old Jock" savagely, when, onour getting abreast of the Paracels, although far off to leeward, he sawthe beastly things still in our wake as he came on deck in the morning."I'll tire 'em out before I've done with 'em."
But, now, all at once, we had something more important to think of thaneven the supposed pirates.
The wind had freshened during the morning, blowing as usual from thesouth-west and west, and towards noon it slackened again; but noimportance was attached to this circumstance, at first, by the captainand Mr Mackay, although, when presently the water became thick and adeep irregular swell set in, they both grew rather uneasy.
"It looks uncommon like a typhoon, sir," said the first mate to "OldJock," after looking out both to windward and leeward. "There is somechange coming."
"I think so, too," said the other. "Go down, Mackay, and have a look atthe barometer. It was all right when I came up, but it may have fallensince then; if it has, that will make our doubt a certainty."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the first mate hurrying down the companion. Hewasn't long absent, returning the next moment with the information: "Ithas gone down from 29.80 to 29.60."
"That means a typhoon, then," said Captain Gillespie; "so the soonerwe're prepared for it the better. All hands take in sail!"
The men tumbled up with a will, the sheets all flying as the halliardswe're let go and all hands on the yard like bees; and, as soon as thetopgallants had been clewed up, these sails were furled and lashed, aswell as having the sea-gaskets put on, so as to make them all the moresecure.
The topsails followed suit, and then the courses; the ship's head beingbrought round to the nor'-west, from which quarter the storm wasexpected, as typhoons always blow eight points to the right of theregular wind, which with us, at the time these precautions were taken,was from the south-east.
The Silver Queen now lay-to, motionless in the water, with only her maintrysail and a storm staysail forward set.
"What is a typhoon?" I asked Mr Mackay, when I got down on deck againafter helping to hand the mizzen-topsail, the last job we had to do onour mast. "What does it mean?"
"It's the Chinese word for a `big wind,' my boy," said he kindly; butlooking very grave. "You'll soon be able to see what it's like foryourself."
The opportunity he spoke of was not long delayed.
By the time the sails had been taken in and all our preparations madefor the reception of our expected but unwelcome visitor, everythingbeing lashed down that was likely to get blown away, and life-lines rovealong the deck fore and aft, the same as when we were making ready toweather the Cape of Good Hope, it was late in the afternoon.
At four o'clock, the commencement of the first dog-watch, the barometerhad fallen further down the scale to 29.46; while, an hour later, it wasdown to 28.96, the wind increasing in force almost every minute and thesea growing in proportion, until the very height of the cyclone wasattained.
The dinghy, which was lashed inboard behind the wheel-house, was blownbodily away to leeward, the ropes holding it parting as if they had beenpack-thread, heavy squalls, accompanied with heavy rain all the timebeating on us like hail, and bursting over the ship in rapid succession;but the old barquey bravely stood it, bending to the blast when it came,and then buoyantly rising the next moment and breasting it like the goodsea-boat she was.
At "six bells" the barometer fell to its lowest point, 28.60, when theviolence of the wind was something fearful, although after this therewas a slight rise in the glass. During the next half-hour, however, themizzen-topsail, which Tom Jerrold and I, with Gregory to help us, hadfastened as we thought so firmly to the yard, was blown to ribbons, thespanker getting adrift shortly afterwards and being torn away from itslacing to the luff rope, scrap by scrap.
The main trysail, also, although only very little of it was shown whenset, now blew away too, making a great report no doubt; but theshrieking of the wind was such that we couldn't hear anything else butits howling through the rigging, the captain's voice close alongside ofme, as I sheltered under the hood of the companion, sounding actuallyonly like a faint whisper.
The typhoon now shifted from the north-west to the westwards, and thebarometer, rising shortly afterwards to 29.20, jumped up thence anothertwenty points in the next hour.
"It's passing off now," said Captain Gillespie, when he could makehimself heard between the squalls, which now came with a longer intervalbetween them. "Those typhoons always work against the sun, and we'venow experienced the worst of it. There goes our last sail, though, andwe'll have to run for it now."
As he said the words the storm staysail forward was carried away with adistinct bang, hearing which showed that the wind was not so powerfulquite as just now--when one, really, couldn't have heard a thirty-fiveton gun fired forwards.
On losing this her only scrap of canvas left, the ship half broached to.
Joe Fergusson, however, came to the rescue, no doubt from hearingsomething the boatswain had said, for the gale was blowing so furiouslythat the captain would not have thought of ordering a man aloft; for,whether through catching Tim Rooney's remark or from some sailor-likeintuition, the ex-bricklayer in the very nick of time voluntarilyclambered up the rigging forwards and loosened the weather clew of theforesail.
Mr Mackay who was aft, seeing his purpose, at once told the men at thewheel to put the helm up; when, the Silver Queen's head paying off, shelifted out of the trough of the heavy rolling sea and scudded away nor'-eastwards right before the wind, which had now got back to the normalpoint of the "trade" we had been sailing with previous to the storm--when, as this new south-westerly gale was blowing with more than twentytimes the force of our original monsoon from the same quarter, the ship,although with only this tiny scrap of her foresail set, was soon drivingthrough the water at over twelve knots the hour, in the very direction,too, we wanted her to go, to fetch our port.
"This is what I call turning the tables," yelled the captain, puttingboth his hands to his mouth for a sort of speaking trumpet as he roaredout the words to Mr Mackay at the wheel. "By Jingo, it's turning thetail of a typhoon into a fair wind!"
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