Masterman Ready; Or, The Wreck of the Pacific

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

  The next morning, as there was no particular work on hand, Ready and MrSeagrave took the lines to add to the stock of the fish-pond. As theweather was fine and cool, William accompanied them, that he might havethe benefit of the fresh air. As they passed the garden, they observedthat the seeds sown had already sprung up an inch or two above theground, and that, apparently none of them had missed. While Ready andMr Seagrave were fishing, and William sitting near them, William saidto his father--

  "Many of the islands near us are inhabited; are they not, papa?"

  "Yes, but not those very near us, I believe. At all events, I neverheard any voyagers mention having seen inhabitants on the isles nearwhich we suppose the one we are on to be."

  "What sort of people are the islanders in these seas?"

  "They are various. The New Zealanders are the most advanced incivilisation. The natives of Van Diemen's Land and Australia are someportions of them of a very degraded class--indeed, little better thanthe beasts of the field."

  "I have seen them," said Ready; "and I think I can mention a people, notvery numerous indeed, who are still more like the beasts of the field.I saw them once; and, at first, thought they were animals, and not humanbeings."

  "Indeed, Ready; where may that be?"

  "In the Great Andaman Isles, at the mouth of the Bay of Bengal. I onceanchored in distress in Port Cornwallis, and the morning after weanchored, we saw some black things going upon all fours under the treesthat came down to the water's edge. We got the telescope, and perceivedthen that they were men and women, for they stood upright."

  "Did you ever come into contact with them?"

  "No, sir, I did not; but I met, at Calcutta, a soldier who had; for atone time the East India Company intended making a settlement on theisland, and sent some troops there. He said that they caught two ofthem; that they were not more than four feet high, excessively stupidand shy; they had no houses or huts to live in, and all that they didwas to pile up some bushes to keep the wind off."

  "Had they any arms?"

  "Yes, sir, they had bows and arrows; but so miserably made, and sosmall, that they could not kill anything but very small birds."

  "Where did the people come from who inhabited these islands, papa?"

  "That is difficult to say, William; but it is supposed that they havebecome inhabited in much the same way as this our island has been--thatis, by people in canoes or boats driven out to sea, and saving theirlives by effecting a landing, as we have done."

  "I believe that's the truth," replied Ready; "I heard say that theAndaman Isles were supposed to have been first inhabited by a slaverfull of negroes, who were wrecked on the coast in a typhoon."

  "What is a typhoon, Ready?"

  "It is much the same as a hurricane, William; it comes on in India atthe change of the monsoons."

  "But what are monsoons?"

  "Winds that blow regular from one quarter so many months during theyear, and then change round and blow from another just as long."

  "And what are the trade-winds, which I heard poor Captain Osborn talkingabout after we left Madeira?"

  "The trade-winds blow on the equator, and several degrees north andsouth of it, from the east to the west, following the course of thesun."

  "Is it the sun which produces these winds?"

  "Yes, the extreme heat of the sun between the tropics rarefies the airas the earth turns round, and the trade-winds are produced by therushing in of the less heated air."

  "Yes, William; and the trade-winds produce what they call the GulfStream," observed Ready.

  "How is that? I have heard it spoken of, papa."

  "The winds, constantly following the sun across the Atlantic Ocean, andblowing from east to west, have great effect upon the sea, which isforced up into the Gulf of Mexico (where it is stopped by the shores ofAmerica), so that it is many feet higher in the Gulf than in the easternpart of the Atlantic. This accumulation of water must of course find avent somewhere, and it does in what is called the Gulf Stream, by whichthe waters are poured out, running very strong to the northward, alongthe shores of America, and then [westward] eastward, passing not farfrom Newfoundland, until its strength is spent somewhere to thenorthward of the Azores."

  "The Gulf Stream, William," said Ready, "is always several degreeswarmer than the sea in general, which is, they say, owing to its watersremaining in the Gulf of Mexico so long, where the heat of the sun is sogreat."

  "What do you mean by the land and sea breezes in the West Indies, andother hot climates, papa?"

  "It is the wind first blowing off from the shore, and then blowing fromthe sea towards the shore, during certain hours of the day, which itdoes regularly every twenty-four hours. This is also the effect of theheat of the sun. The sea breeze commences in the morning, and in theafternoon it dies away, when the land breeze commences, which lasts tillmidnight."

  "There are latitudes close to the trade-winds," said Ready, "where thewind is not certain, where ships have been becalmed for weeks; the crewshave exhausted the water on board, and they have suffered dreadfully.We call them the Horse latitudes--why, I do not know. But it is timefor us to leave off, and for Master William to go into the house."

  They returned home, and after supper Ready went on with his narrative.

  "I left off at the time that I was sent on board of the man-of-war, andI was put down on the books as a supernumerary boy. I was on board ofher for nearly four years, and we were sent about from port to port, andfrom clime to clime, until I grew a strong, tall lad, and was put intothe mizen-top. I found it very comfortable. I did my duty, and theconsequence was, I never was punished; for a man may serve on board of aman-of-war without fear of being punished, if he only does his duty, andthe duty is not very hard either; not like on board of the merchantvessels, where there are so few hands--there it is hard work. Ofcourse, there are some captains who command men-of-war who are harsh andsevere; but it was my good fortune to be with a very mild and steadycaptain, who was very sorry when he was obliged to punish the men,although he would not overlook any improper conduct. The only thingwhich was a source of constant unhappiness to me was, that I could notget to England again, and see my mother. I had written two or threeletters, but never had an answer; and at last I became so impatient thatI determined to run away the very first opportunity which might offer.We were then stationed in the West Indies, and I had very oftenconsultations with Hastings on the subject, for he was quite as anxiousto get away as I was; and we had agreed that we would start off togetherthe very first opportunity. At last we anchored in Port Royal, Jamaica,and there was a large convoy of West India ships, laden with sugar,about to sail immediately. We knew that if we could get on board ofone, they would secrete us until the time of sailing, for they wereshort-handed enough, the men-of-war having pressed every man they couldlay their hands upon. There was but one chance, and that was byswimming on board of one of the vessels during the night-time, and thatwas easy enough, as they were anchored not a hundred yards from our ownship. What we were afraid of was the sharks, which were so plentiful inthe harbour. However, the night before the convoy was to sail we madeup our minds that we would run the risk, for we were so impatient toescape that we did not care for anything. It was in the middle watch--Irecollect it, and shall recollect it all my life, as if it were lastnight--that we lowered ourselves down very softly from the bows of theship, and as soon as we were in the water we struck out for one of theWest Indiamen close to us. The sentry at the gangway saw the light inthe water made by our swimming through it, and he hailed, of course; wegave no answer, but swam as fast as we could; for after he had hailed weheard a bustle, and we knew that the officer of the watch was manning aboat to send after us. I had just caught hold of the cable of the WestIndiaman, and was about to climb up by it, for I was a few yards beforeHastings, when I heard a loud shriek, and, turning round, perceived ashark plunging down with Hastings in his jaws. I was so frightened,t
hat for a short time I could not move: at last I recovered myself, andbegan to climb up by the cable as fast as I could. I was just in time,for another shark made a rush at me; and although I was clear out of thewater more than two feet, he sprung up and just caught my shoe by theheel, which he took down with him. Fear gave me strength, and in asecond or two afterwards I was up at the hawse-holes, and the men onboard, who had been looking over the bows, and had witnessed poorHastings' death, helped me on board, and hurried me down below, for theboat from our ship was now nearly alongside. When the officer of theboat came on board, they told him they had perceived us both in thewater, close to their vessel, and that the sharks had taken us down. Asthe shriek of Hastings was heard by the people in the boat, the officerbelieved that it was the case, and returned to the ship. I heard thedrum beat to quarters on board of the man-of-war, that they mightascertain who were the two men who had attempted to swim away, and a fewminutes afterwards they beat the retreat, having put down D.D. againstmy name on the books, as well as against that of poor Hastings."

  "What does D.D. mean?"

  "D stands for discharged from the service; D.D. stands for dead,"replied Ready; "and it was only through the mercy of Providence that Iwas not so."

  "It was a miraculous escape indeed," observed Mr Seagrave.

  "Yes, indeed, sir; I can hardly describe my sensations for some hoursafterwards. I tried to sleep, but could not--I was in agony. Themoment I slumbered, I thought the shark had hold of me, and I wouldstart up and shriek; and then I said my prayers and tried to go to sleepagain, but it was of no use. The captain of the West Indiaman wasafraid that my shrieks would be heard, and he sent me down a tumbler ofrum to drink off; this composed me, and at last I fell into a soundsleep. When I awoke, I found that the ship was under weigh and with allcanvas set, surrounded by more than a hundred other vessels; themen-of-war who took charge of the convoy, firing guns and making signalsincessantly. It was a glorious sight, and we were bound for OldEngland. I felt so happy, that I thought I would risk the jaws ofanother shark to have regained my liberty, and the chance of being oncemore on shore in my own country, and able to go to Newcastle and see mypoor mother."

  "I am afraid that your miraculous escape did you very little good,Ready," observed Mrs Seagrave, "if you got over it so soon."

  "Indeed, madam, it was not so; that was only the feeling which the firstsight of the vessels under weigh for England produced upon me. I canhonestly say that I was a better and more serious person. The very nextnight, when I was in my hammock, I prayed very fervently; and therehappened to be a very good old Scotchman on board, the second mate, whotalked very seriously to me, and pointed out how wonderful had been mypreservation, and I felt it. It was he who first read the Bible withme, and made me understand it, and, I may say, become fond of it. I didmy duty on our passage home as a seaman before the mast, and the captainwas pleased with me. The ship I was in was bound to Glasgow, and weparted company with the convoy at North Foreland, and arrived safe inport. The captain took me to the owners, who paid me fifteen guineasfor my services during the voyage home; and as soon as I received themoney, I set off for Newcastle as fast as I could. I had taken a placeon the outside of the coach, and I entered into conversation with agentleman who sat next to me. I soon found out that he belonged toNewcastle, and I first inquired if Mr Masterman, the ship-builder, wasstill alive. He told me that he had been dead about three months. `Andto whom did he leave his money?' I asked, `for he was very rich, andhad no kin.' `He had no relations,' replied the gentleman, `and he leftall his money to build an hospital and almshouses. He had a partner inhis business latterly, and he left the yard and all the stores to him, Ibelieve, because he did not know whom to leave it to. There was a ladwhom I knew for certain he intended to have adopted and to have made hisheir--a lad of the name of Ready; but he ran away to sea, and has neverbeen heard of since. It is supposed that he was lost in a prize, for hewas traced so far. Foolish boy that he was. He might now have been aman of fortune.'

  "`Very foolish indeed,' replied I.

  "`Yes; but he has harmed more than himself. His poor mother, who dotedupon him, as soon as she heard that he was lost, pined away by degrees,and--'

  "`You don't mean to say that she is dead?' interrupted I, seizing thegentleman by the arm.

  "`Yes,' replied he, looking at me with surprise; `she died last year ofa broken heart.'

  "I fell back on the luggage behind me, and should have fallen off thecoach if the gentleman had not held me. He called to the coachman topull up the horses, and they took me down, and put me inside; and as thecoach rolled on, I cried as if my heart would break."

  Ready appeared so much affected, that Mr Seagrave proposed that heshould leave off his history for the present.

  "Thank you, sir, it will be better; for I feel my old eyes dim withtears, even now. It's a dreadful thing in after-life to reflect upon,that your foolish conduct has hastened the death of a most kind mother;but so it was, William, and I give you the truth for your advantage."