Sandokan: The Pirates of Malaysia (The Sandokan Series Book 3)

by Emilio Salgari

  A convict had rushed upon the quarterdeck and shouted, “Save us, sir!”

  Sandokan gave him a disdainful look and replied, “Go back to your party!”

  “But the ship’s about to sink, sir!”

  “And there are sharks about,” said Yanez, laughing derisively. “Hungry sharks.”

  “We don’t want to die!” shouted the convict, turning pale.

  “Well then, take the wheel,” replied Sandokan.

  “But... Sir!”

  “Get off the bridge!” shouted Sandokan. “I have no time for fools!”

  “Go sleep off your gin,” added Yanez.

  Believing it best not to insist, the convict walked back to his friends and said, “Mates, looks like we’re in for a swim.”

  “If we’re going to die, we’ll drink ‘til we drop!” howled a voice.

  “Well said, Burthon!”

  “To the barrels! To the barrels! Drink ‘til we drop!” howled everyone.

  They were about to resume their feast when a second, third, and fourth wave crashed down upon the ship, sweeping the deck from one side to the other.

  “Hold on!” shouted Sandokan.

  The frigate was rolling frightfully. At times her bowsprit would shoot up as if to touch the clouds then bury itself among the waves as the stern rose to the heavens. Again and again she would crash down upon the waters, the roar of the impact echoing darkly throughout the hold.

  Waves pounded the deck without pause, hurling the convicts in all directions. The dead twisted among the raging torrents, dancing to the pitch of the ship. They rolled and bounced, back and forth, until finally they were dragged up onto the bulwarks and swept over the side.

  The sea swelled and bellowed, rising higher with each passing minute.

  “What’s our position, Sandokan?” asked Yanez, coming to his side.

  “We’re among the reefs,” the Tiger of Malaysia replied calmly.

  “We’re going to crash.”

  “I’m afraid so, brother, the wheel’s no longer responding!”

  The Welshman, Tanauduriam and Sambigliong rushed onto the quarterdeck.

  “Captain,” said the seaman, “We’re surrounded by reefs!”

  “I know,” replied Sandokan.

  “And the foremast won’t bear this storm much longer!”

  “Let it fall.”

  “But we’re still far from shore!”

  “We’re about twenty miles from the coast, John; I caught a glimpse of it during that last lightning flash.”

  “But how are we going to reach it if the ship smashes against these reefs? There’s only a skiff left aboard, barely large enough for four or five men.”

  “That should do us just fine,” said Yanez.

  “What about these poor devils? We can’t abandon them,” said Sandokan. “They helped us regain our freedom, we owe them a debt.”

  “Those drunkards! Let them fend for themselves.”

  “Without them we’d still be on our way to Norfolk.”

  “True.”

  “Let’s try not to appear ungrateful. Ah!”

  Hurled towards the reefs by the breaking waves, the old frigate suddenly shook so violently, the men feared they had run aground. Yanez and the Welshman rushed to the bow, where Sambigliong and Tanauduriam, assisted by several of the more sober convicts, were hoisting the foresail and a counter jib, in an attempt to make the ship come about.

  They spied a double row of reefs two hundred paces off the side and an archipelago of larger rocks further in the distance. Mountains of water crashed down upon those jagged outcrops, bouncing back with deafening roars as the sea raged with fury.

  Despite the efforts of Sandokan and his companions, the frigate’s voyage was quickly drawing to an end. Swept into a canal among that chaos of rocks and islands, she was being propelled towards the reefs.

  With death imminent, the convicts lost their defiance. Those who could still stand rushed to assist Yanez and the Welshman. Others howled in despair, while a few pleaded to God to save them. The barrels had long been abandoned and now rolled wildly about the deck. At one point, Sandokan’s voice thundered in warning:

  “Brace yourselves! We’re going to crash!”

  Driven by the waves, the ship flew through the reefs, rolling and pitching as she shot forward. The waters lashed at her sides, stormed over the shattered bulwarks, then crashed on deck, felling everything in their path. Suddenly there was a formidable roar and the frigate shook from her keel to her mast top. The foremast, its base eroded by the flames tottered and crashed to the deck with a loud thud, killing several men.

  Seconds later sharp rocks tore through the frigate’s keel, the crash echoing darkly in the hold. Gutted in one blow, she rolled onto her starboard side and careened against a rock, just as a large wave swept the deck and hurled twenty or thirty men against the bulwarks.

  The Tiger’s voice thundered above their cries of fear.

  “The ship’s been cut in two!”

  Chapter 19

  Safe

  THE SHIP WOULD not hold together for much longer. Smashed upon the sharp rocks, she was little more than a mass of wood soon to be scattered by the waves. Her keel, severed in two by the second blow, had torn away and water stormed into the hold, battering her stanchions.

  Heavy with water and wedged against the reef, for the moment the frigate was out of danger. The shaking had stopped, but waves continued to pound her deck, threatening to sweep away the convicts at any moment.

  Sandokan, Yanez and the Welshman, still calm and level-headed, quickly took shelter upon the quarterdeck, the only part of the frigate out of reach of the waves.

  Realizing salvation lay above, the convicts slowly made their way towards them, without a second thought to their drunken companions rolling among the corpses strewn about the deck. Those who could not walk were dashed against the bulwarks and carried off by the waves. Only a hundred and thirty of them remained; the wounded had died in the storm, drowned in the waters that had invaded the ship’s waist. Throughout the night, those wretches battled to survive, ringing the four pirates of Mompracem and the Welshman in a tight circle, as they struggled against the onslaught of the waves. Luckily, towards two in the morning, the wind began to subside and it appeared as if the waters would soon settle.

  With great effort, Yanez and Sandokan climbed up onto the reef, an enormous rock that rose more than a hundred meters out of the water. They had hoped to see the coast of Borneo from its summit; but spied only larger rocks to the east of them which completely barred their view.

  “No matter,” said Sandokan. “We can’t be too far from the coast; we’ll make our way there.”

  “How exactly?” asked Yanez. “All we have is a skiff.”

  “We’ll build a raft.”

  “So you’re still determined to take these wretches with us?”

  “We can’t leave them here without food and shelter.”

  “And you expect to find enough food for a hundred and thirty men once we reach the shore?”

  “There’s a tribe of Dyaks near Tanjung Sirik, they may be able to help us.”

  “If they don’t eat us first,” said Yanez. “They’re cannibals, little brother.”

  “If they treat us as enemies, we’ll sack their village.”

  “I hope you don’t plan on dragging these bandits with us wherever we go.”

  “Of course not,” replied Sandokan. “We’ll part ways at the first opportune moment and set off towards Mompracem.”

  “What about James Brooke?”

  “This setback may delay our plans, but it will not put them off indefinitely. I still intend to arm a new expedition, sail to Sarawak, unite with Pangeran Macota and start an insurrection.”

  “I hope our friends are faring well.”

  “I doubt they’re worse off than we are; I’m sure we’ll see them all again in Sarawak.”

  Dawn broke as they were talking, bathing the clouds in a warm pink light.
Sandokan and Yanez quickly turned to assess their situation.

  The old frigate had crashed among a group of reefs and islands ringing a small lake. A pair of tortuous canals lined with coral shoals led out to the sea on either side of it.

  Chance had driven the frigate into that basin, stranding her opposite a small, cone-shaped island about two hundred meters high covered with thick vegetation.

  “We may be able to spot the coast from up there,” said Sandokan, directing Yanez’s gaze towards the island’s summit. “Once the waves settle, we’ll go over in the skiff and climb to the top.”

  They returned to the ship just as the sun was breaking over the horizon, the waters shimmering gold in the morning light.

  The convicts, having survived the night and anxious to reach shore, had already begun to build a raft. Skilled in such tasks, the Welshman had taken command, directing the demolition work and trying to salvage as much wood as possible. Sandokan, Yanez, Tanauduriam and Sambigliong went below to search for food, hoping that a few supplies had somehow escaped the celebration feast.

  Their search yielded modest results. Though the galley and the lower deck had been almost entirely destroyed, they managed to find several cases of biscuits in the crew’s common room and various barrels of salt pork that had miraculously escaped the fire. Unfortunately, the hold was completely underwater and any provisions stored there had probably been swept away through the breach in the hull.

  “We’ve got barely enough for a meal,” said Yanez. “If those rascals hadn’t gorged themselves, we would have had enough for several days.”

  “There’ nothing we can do about that now,” observed Sandokan. “No matter, we should reach the coast by tomorrow at the latest.”

  Towards noon, the waves in that basin had settled and the two captains, Tanauduriam and Sambigliong, set off in the skiff for the island opposite the ship. They were certain of sighting the shores of Borneo from its summit, for its verdant slopes towered above the reefs to the east of them.

  Despite the rough waters, it took them only a few minutes to cross the basin and land upon the gently sloping beach. At the sight of those intruders, swifts, petrels, and gulls immediately flew off, filling the air with their cries. Yanez, rifle at the ready, brought down a magnificent kingfisher with a well-aimed shot.

  “That’s lunch taken care of,” said the Portuguese.

  Once they had pulled the skiff ashore and collected the bird, Sandokan and his companions headed in among the bushes and trees and began to make their way up the slope.

  They marched through lush vegetation: casuarinas, ferns, cycas plants, palm trees and masses of gambirs bristling with thorns, but unfortunately, not one bore any fruit that would supplement their stores. Lizards appeared among the leaves and vines from time to time, hissing in displeasure as they scurried off to find new shelter.

  Advancing slowly through the thick foliage, a half hour later, Sandokan and his friends reached the cone’s summit, which, fortunately, was clear of vegetation. They turned their eyes towards the horizon and spotted a long stretch of land just beyond a group of small islands.

  “That must be Tanjung Sirik,” said Yanez.

  “I think you’re right,” replied Sandokan. “I’d say it’s about twenty miles from here; we’ll be there by tomorrow.”

  They scanned the sea for a few more minutes, hoping to sight a prahu, then went back down the hill and got into the skiff, taking their large bird with them.

  When they returned to the frigate, they found the convicts still occupied in taking apart the ship. Once enough lumber had been salvaged and gathered upon the stern, Sandokan, Yanez and the Welshman began to direct the raft’s construction. It had to be sturdy enough to withstand the waves, which were especially violent in that stretch of water strewn with coral, rocks and sandbanks.

  They ordered the yards and foremast beams put into the water, followed by four long beams that would serve as work rafts, manned by men the Welshman considered most capable.

  The waves had settled and construction proceeded quickly. The yards and mast beams were bound together tightly in a parallelogram; several empty barrels and kegs taken from the crews’ common room were secured to the corners.

  Once the frame had been completed, wood from the hull, planks from the quarterdeck, and the remnants of the bulwarks were quickly thrown into the water, and the convicts, directed by the Welshman and the two pirate captains, began to construct the raft’s deck.

  They had found the carpenters chest, which had escaped the fire; it contained numerous woodcutting tools and a good supply of nails. The remainder of the work was quickly executed and the convicts stepped aboard shortly before sunset.

  They installed a long oar at the stern to serve as a rudder; raised a small mast in the center of the raft fashioned from the bowsprit shaft and a yardarm and hoisted a sail upon it.

  At eight that evening, as a blood-red moon rose over the horizon, the convicts began to load their supplies. They had managed to salvage two cases of biscuits, a bit of salt pork, and several barrels of fresh water. The skiff was also brought aboard as were forty axes, and twenty rifles with three or four hundred cartridges, equipment that could greatly facilitate their survival.

  At nine o’clock, the raft, powered by two-dozen oars, pulled away from the remnants of the frigate and slowly headed towards the canal to the east of them. Sandokan, tiller in hand, guided her forward; while Yanez, Sambigliong, Tanauduriam and the Welshman stood at the bow, scanning the waters for rocks and sandbanks.

  Crossing the canal was much easier then the two captains had predicted, and a half hour later, the large raft, its sail stretched taut by the wind, was slowly advancing towards the Bornean coast, pitching heavily over the large waves coming from the south.

  “If this breeze holds, we’ll reach land by tomorrow morning,” Sandokan told Yanez, who had joined him on the stern.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” replied the Portuguese.

  “What troubles you, my friend?”

  “I keep thinking about the crew in those launches.”

  “Still?”

  “What if they’re searching for us? What if they’ve set up an ambush ashore?”

  “They’re probably in Sarawak or Sedang by now.”

  “That would be worse, Sandokan. If James Brooke learns of our escape, he’ll set sail in that damned schooner of his and come hunt us down.”

  “He’d be too late, my friend.”

  “What about the convicts? When do you intend to leave them?”

  “Tomorrow night, we’ll escape while they’re asleep.”

  “How?”

  “We’ll take the skiff.”

  “A long trip fraught with its own dangers. We’re quite a ways from Mompracem, little brother.”

  “Once we reach Uri, we’ll find a prahu that’ll take us to the Romades.”

  “Is the Welshman coming with us? He’d be a fine addition to our crew.”

  “He’s promised to join us. He prefers our company.”

  In the meantime, the raft, driven by a light though somewhat irregular breeze, continued to advance eastward, heading towards the shore that Sandokan and Yanez had spotted from the small island’s summit.

  Though the sea was still choppy, the enormous raft fared well. From time to time, a wave would lash its sides, drenching the convicts gathered round the mast; but its frame and deck held tenaciously against every knock and bump.

  Towards midnight, the breeze faded, stopping the raft’s advance; the waves, however, continued to rise, shaking it violently. When the sun rose on the horizon, it was still about fifteen miles from the shore, but there was not so much as a breath of wind to fill the sail.

  The sea was deserted. Not a single ship was visible on the horizon, nor any black specks to indicate the presence of a launch. A few frigate birds soared aloft as flocks of gulls wheeled above the waters.

  Schools of diodon swam about them, carried there by the waves
. Bodies bristling with white thorn-like spines, these balloonfish when threatened, can swell to three times their normal size and become a rigid, near-perfect sphere covered in spiky armour. The convicts quickly gathered the few harpoons they had salvaged and began thrusting them into the water and soon had a large catch.

  Towards three in the afternoon, the breeze finally picked up and the raft began to advance once again, slashing through the waves that attacked its bow.

  The coast was now perfectly a visible; a long arc stretched from north to south, covered in thick vegetation. Forested peaks towered against the bright horizon; perhaps a branch of the Crystal Mountains, a large ridge that extends through the island’s centre.

  Numerous rocks protruded from the waters a few metres from the shore, making the approach difficult, even dangerous for a raft that did not always obey its rudder.

  “Stand ready to lower the sail on my command!” shouted Sandokan.

  The noise was deafening. Driven by the wind, the waves crashed against the rocks, bouncing back with such force they shook the raft from bow to stern. Hands firm upon the rudder, Sandokan and Yanez worked desperately to hold their course, but sandbanks lay hidden beyond the reef and each few metres brought new obstacles.

  The convicts had all sprung to their feet, ready to dive into the water. Many had grabbed weapons or provisions, whatever would be of use once they reached the shore. But barely had they risen when the raft began to rock and buck violently, knocking the men back against the planks.

  Ably guided by the pirate captains, they had sailed to within three hundred meters of the shore, when suddenly a large wave swelled up beneath them and hurled the raft forward with such force, it almost stood on end. There was a terrible jolt as it struck the rocks; the deck shattered beneath the convicts’ feet and the beams were quickly swept off among the reefs.

  “Every man for himself!” shouted the Welshman.

  The hundred and thirty men dove into the water as waves swept away most of their arms and provisions.

  Fortunately, the water was not deep. Hurled forward by the turbulent waves the convicts helped each other advance and, minutes later, stepped upon the shore and gathered about Sandokan, Yanez, Sambigliong, Tanauduriam and the Welshman who had reached it ahead of them.