CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
THE FATE OF THE "SUNSHINE."
Stunned at first, for a few minutes, by the extreme violence of theexplosion, no one on board the _Sunshine_ spoke, though each man stoodat his post ready to act.
"Strange," said the captain at last. "There seems to be no big wavethis time."
"That only shows that we are not as near the island as we thought. Butit won't be long of--See! There it comes," said the hermit. "Now,Winnie, cling to my arm and put your trust in God."
Nigel, who had secured a life-buoy, moved close to the girl's side, andlooking anxiously out ahead saw a faint line of foam in the thickdarkness which had succeeded the explosion. Already the distant roar ofthe billow was heard, proving that it had begun to break.
"The wind comes with it," said Van der Kemp.
"Stand by!" cried the captain, gazing intently over the side.
Next moment came the sharp order to hoist the foretopsail and jib, soonfollowed by "Cut the cable!"
There was breeze enough to swing the vessel quickly round. In a fewseconds her stern was presented to the coming wave, and her bow cleftthe water as she rushed upon what every one now knew was her doom.
To escape the great wave was no part of the captain's plan. To havereached the shore before the wave would have been fatal to all. Theironly hope lay in the possibility of riding in on the top of it, and thegreat danger was that they should be unable to rise to it stern firstwhen it came up, or that they should turn broadside on and be rolledover.
They had not long to wait. The size of the wave, before it came nearenough to be seen, was indicated by its solemn, deep-toned,ever-increasing roar. The captain stood at the wheel himself, guidingthe brig and glancing back from time to time uneasily.
Suddenly the volcano gave vent to its fourth and final explosion. Itwas not so violent as its predecessors had been, though more so than anythat had occurred on the day before, and the light of it showed them thefull terrors of their situation, for it revealed the mountains of Java--apparently quite close in front, though in reality at a considerabledistance--with a line of breakers beating white on the shore. Butastern of them was the most appalling sight, for there, rushing on withawful speed and a sort of hissing roar, came the monstrous wave,emerging, as it were, out of thick darkness, like a mighty wall of waterwith a foaming white crest, not much less--according to an average ofthe most reliable estimates--than 100 feet high.
Well might the seamen blanch, for never before in all their variedexperience had they seen the like of that.
On it came with the unwavering force of Fate. To the eye of Captain Royit appeared that up its huge towering side no vessel made by mortal mancould climb. But the captain had too often stared death in the face tobe unmanned by the prospect now. Steadily he steered the vesselstraight on, and in a quiet voice said--
"Lay hold of something firm--every man!"
The warning was well timed. In the amazement, if not fear, caused bythe unwonted sight, some had neglected the needful precaution.
As the billow came on, the bubbling, leaping, and seething of its crestwas apparent both to eye and ear. Then the roar became tremendous.
"Darling Winnie," said Nigel at that moment. "I will die for you orwith you!"
The poor girl heard, but no sign of appreciation moved her pale face asshe gazed up at the approaching chaos of waters.
Next moment the brig seemed to stand on its bows. Van der Kemp hadplaced his daughter against the mast, and, throwing his long arms roundboth, held on. Nigel, close to them, had grasped a handful of ropes,and every one else was holding on for life. Another moment and the brigrose as if it were being tossed up to the heavens. Immediatelythereafter it resumed its natural position in a perfect wilderness offoam. They were on the summit of the great wave, which was so largethat its crest seemed like a broad, rounded mass of tumbling snow withblackness before and behind, while the roar of the tumult was deafening.The brig rushed onward at a speed which she had never before equalledeven in the fiercest gale--tossed hither and thither by the leapingfoam, yet always kept going straight onward by the expert steering ofher captain.
"Come aft--all of you!" he shouted, when it was evident that the vesselwas being borne surely forward on the wave's crest. "The masts will gofor certain when we strike."
The danger of being entangled in the falling spars and cordage was soobvious that every one except the hermit and Nigel obeyed.
"Here, Nigel," gasped the former. "I--I've--lost blood--faint!--"
Our hero at once saw that Van der Kemp, fainting from previous loss ofblood, coupled with exertion, was unable to do anything but hold on.Indeed, he failed even in that, and would have fallen to the deck hadNigel not caught him by the arm.
"Can you run aft, Winnie?" said Nigel anxiously.
"Yes!" said the girl, at once understanding the situation and darting tothe wheel, of which and of Captain Roy she laid firm hold, while Nigellifted the hermit in his arms and staggered to the same spot. Winnieknelt beside him immediately, and, forgetting for the moment all thehorrors around her, busied herself in replacing the bandage which hadbeen loosened from his head.
"Oh! Mr Roy, save him!--save him!" cried the poor child, appealing inan agony to Nigel, for she felt instinctively that when the crash cameher father would be utterly helpless even to save himself.
Nigel had barely time to answer when a wild shout from the crew causedhim to start up and look round. A flare from the volcano had cast a redlight over the bewildering scene, and revealed the fact that the brigwas no longer above the ocean's bed, but was passing in its wild careerright through, or rather _over_, the demolished town of Anjer. A few ofthe houses that had been left standing by the previous waves were beingswept--hurled--away by this one, but the mass of rolling, rushing,spouting water was so deep, that the vessel had as yet struck nothingsave the tops of some palm-trees which bent their heads like strawsbefore the flood.
Even in the midst of the amazement, alarm, and anxiety caused by thesituation, Nigel could not help wondering that in this final andcomplete destruction of the town no sign of struggling human beingsshould be visible. He forgot at the moment, what was terribly provedafterwards, that the first waves had swallowed up men, women, andchildren by hundreds, and that the few who survived had fled to thehills, leaving nothing for the larger wave to do but complete the workof devastation on inanimate objects. Ere the situation had been wellrealised the volcanic fires went down again, and left the world, forover a hundred surrounding miles, in opaque darkness. Only the humbleflicker of the binnacle-light, like a trusty sentinel on duty, continuedto shed its feeble rays on a few feet of the deck, and showed that thecompass at least was still faithful to the pole!
Then another volcanic outburst revealed the fact that the wave whichcarried them was thundering on in the direction of a considerable cliffor precipice--not indeed quite straight towards it, but sufficiently soto render escape doubtful.
At the same time a swarm of terror-stricken people were seen flyingtowards this cliff and clambering up its steep sides. They wereprobably some of the more courageous of the inhabitants who had summonedcourage to return to their homes after the passage of the second wave.Their shrieks and cries could be heard above even the roaring of thewater and the detonations of the volcano.
"God spare us!" exclaimed poor Winnie, whose trembling form was nowpartially supported by Nigel.
As she spoke darkness again obscured everything, and they could donaught but listen to the terrible sounds--and pray.
On--on went the _Sunshine_, in the midst of wreck and ruin, on thisstrange voyage over land and water, until a check was felt. It was nota crash as had been anticipated, and as might have naturally beenexpected, neither was it an abrupt stoppage. There was first a hissing,scraping sound against the vessel's sides, then a steady checking--wemight almost say a hindrance to progress--not violent, yet so verydecided that the rigging could not bear the strain. One a
nd another ofthe backstays parted, the foretopsail burst with a cannon-like report,after which a terrible rending sound, followed by an indescribablecrash, told that both masts had gone by the board.
Then all was comparatively still--comparatively we say, for water stillhissed and leaped beneath them like a rushing river, though it no longerroared, and the wind blew in unfamiliar strains and laden with unwontedodours.
At that moment another outburst of Krakatoa revealed the fact that thegreat wave had borne the brig inland for upwards of a mile, and left herimbedded in a thick grove of cocoa-nut palms!
Blown to Bits: The Lonely Man of Rakata, the Malay Archipelago Page 28