Black Bar

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by George Manville Fenn


  CHAPTER SIX.

  ALONE ON THE OCEAN.

  "All very fine for you, my lads," grumbled the coxswain, "but see what awetting I got."

  "Vandean, my lad," whispered the lieutenant, "that idea of yours savedus," and he caught and pressed the lad's cold hand. Then aloud: "Now,my lads, get the oars in under the thwarts, so that they don't floatout, and then you, Dance, and you, Tom Fillot, in over the side andbegin baling."

  The boat was floating with its gunwale level with the water, and the twomen had only to press the side a bit and literally roll in, to squatdown and begin baling; for, to the great delight of all, it was foundthat the locker in the bows was unopened, though full of water, and acouple of tin balers were fished out from amidst some tackle. Directlyafter, working with all their might, the men began to make the water flyout in showers.

  Meanwhile the oars were collected and thrust down into the boat beneaththe thwarts, along with the hitcher, and the rest of the little crewheld on by the gunwale outside.

  For a time this seemed to remain level with the surface, but the twobalers toiled so hard that in a short time the lieutenant turned toMark, and said shortly--"In with you."

  The lad looked at him in wonder, but junior officers have to obey, andhe crept in over the side, and getting right aft, began to scoop out thewater with his joined hands.

  A quarter of an hour later a fresh order was given, and two more men gotinto the boat to seat themselves and take the balers, while the pair whohad been acting prepared to get out again and hang on.

  But a short, sharp order checked them.

  "There is no need, my lads," said the lieutenant. "You can beginscooping out water as soon as you are a bit rested. The boat will holdyou now."

  He was quite right, for, though the presence of four men weighed herdown heavily, and sent her gunwale once more nearly level with thesurface, it soon began to rise again as, pint by pint, the interior wasrelieved, until another man crept in, and soon after another, till thewhole crew were back, and the lieutenant got in last.

  Ten minutes later two men forward were steadily baling, whilst twoothers seized their oars, under the lieutenant's direction, and gettingthe boat's head round as they sat there with the water still well upover their ankles, they began to pull steadily in the direction of the_Nautilus_, now nearly invisible in the distant silvery haze.

  They were still so heavily water-logged that progress was very slow, butthis was no discouragement, for their position improved minute byminute, and the men were so much cheered that they put plenty of spiritinto their work.

  But before they had taken many strokes the lieutenant gave the order tostop, and Mark shuddered as he saw the reason. Mr Russell had turnedto the rudder-lines, and there was a terrible burden towing astern.

  Those were solemn moments which followed. The lieutenant signed to thecoxswain to come, and then helped him to draw the lifeless body of thepoor fellow over the gunwale, and, as decently as was possible, laid theremains of what had once been a big, strong man in the bottom of theboat. A flag was then taken from the locker and covered over him, justas, by a strange coincidence, and very faintly heard, came the report ofa gun.

  The coxswain then went forward and helped with the baling, while the menrecommenced rowing in silence.

  "The lads will think all this unnecessary, Vandean," said the lieutenantin a low voice, as Mark sat by his side; "but it would be horriblyun-English to leave the poor wretch floating at the mercy of the waves.He was free enough, poor fellow, before we shaded him with the Britishflag. What would you have done?"

  "As you have, sir," replied the lad. "I couldn't have left him behind,though it seems very horrible to have taken him on board, and to havehim here with us in the night."

  "All fanciful sentiment, Van, my lad. What is there in that poor fellownow to excite our fear? Come, you must be more manly than that. Cold?"

  "Yes; very, now."

  "So am I, my lad. These wet things are not comfortable. We'll take tothe oars and row for a bit to keep off the chill. Why, Vandean, youought to be well praised for this night's work. I feel quite ashamed ofmyself for letting you suggest a way out of our difficulty with thecapsized boat."

  "Oh, it was nothing, sir. It just occurred to me," replied Mark.

  "I wish it had just occurred to me, my lad; and what is more, I wish wecould see the _Nautilus_ coming towards us with the slave schoonerastern, but there is no such good fortune in store for us till morning."

  By this time the water was getting very low in the bottom of the boat,and ordering the coxswain aft to steer, the lieutenant took the oar ofTom Fillot, who was rowing stroke, sent him forward, and then made Marktake the oar of the next man. They both pulled steadily together forthe next half hour, Mr Russell telling the coxswain how to steer, so asto keep steadily in the wake of the _Nautilus_, which had now for longenough been out of sight.

  The long row thoroughly circulated Mark's blood, driving away all thefeeling of chill, so that it was with a pleasant glowing sensation thatthe lad took his place once more in the stern-sheets to sit beside thelieutenant, and with him anxiously look-out ahead in the hope of seeingsome sign of the ship.

  "She may send up a rocket, mayn't she, Mr Russell?" said Mark, after along silence, during which the boat had risen and fallen with the swell,and felt beating with a living pulsation as the men toiled steadily onat their oars.

  "Rocket? Well, yes, she may, but I doubt whether we could see it atthis distance."

  "Then she is very far-away?"

  "Very, my lad. You see that she is out of sight."

  "And suppose we have lost sight of her altogether, sir--what then?"

  "What then? Oh, don't let's calculate upon things that are barelypossible. Captains in Her Majesty's service are too particular abouttheir juniors and ship's company to leave a boat's crew in the lurch."

  "Yes, but Captain Maitland might not be able to find us again, sir."

  "Come, come, my lad, don't croak like a raven. At your age you ought tobe hopeful, and set me an example of high spirits. Don't beginimagining the worst."

  "Who's going to be hopeful," muttered Tom Fillot to the man behind him,"with the body o' that poor nigger aboard? Strikes me that we're in fora spell o' bad luck, mates."

  "What's that?" cried the lieutenant.

  "Only having a bit of a grumble, your honour, about our luck," said theman, respectfully. "We're all feeling as if it was time our watchended, and as though we'd like a bit o' something to eat and drink.That's all, sir."

  The man's oar dipped steadily as he spoke, and after that there was adead silence on board. The last drop of water had been swabbed up andsqueezed overboard, and the exercise had helped to dry the men'ssaturated garments. A steady progress was kept up, and after fightingback a heavy, drowsy feeling, Mark sat watching the setting stars awaystraight before him in the direction in which the _Nautilus_ haddisappeared. Twenty times over it had seemed to him as if the nightwould never end, and in spite of his officer's cheering utterances, hisspirits sank very low, as he wondered whether it would not have beenbetter if the boat's head had been turned, so that they might have roweddue east, to make the land from which they had sailed.

  Then the moon began to sink lower, and the sky to grow of a darker slatycolour, while the regular beat of the men's oars sounded distant--thenvery softly--and then ceased altogether, or so it appeared to MarkVandean, who suddenly opened his eyes with a start, and gazedwonderingly about him at the sunlit sea, now all orange and gold.

  "Have I been to sleep, sir?" he cried apologetically.

  "Yes, my lad; sound asleep for hours."

  "And the ship, sir--can you see the _Nautilus_?"

  "No, my lad," said the lieutenant, in a voice which he tried to makecheerful, but whose tones spoke of the deep despondency in his breast."She is not in sight yet."

  The midshipman glanced sharply at the heavy, saddened countenances ofthe men, and read there a reflection of
his own thoughts, that they werefar-away on the wide ocean in an open boat without food or water,exhausted by a long night's rowing, and in an hour the torrid sun wouldbe beating down upon their heads.

  Hunger--thirst--heat--all three to fight; but there was a worse enemystill--despair, as a torrent of recollections flashed through the lad'sbrain, and he felt that unless the _Nautilus_ hove in sight, theirposition was less to be envied than that of the poor negro lying deadbeneath the flat which hid his face from their sight.

 

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