Chapter XLVII
I am sent away after prizes, and meet with a hurricane--Am driven onshore, with the loss of more than half my men--Where is the_Rattlesnake?_
In three weeks we were again ready for sea, and the admiral ordered usto our old station off Martinique. We had cruised about a fortnight offSt Pierre's, and, as I walked the deck at night, often did I look at thelights in the town, and wonder whether any of them were in the presenceof Celeste, when, one evening, being about six miles off shore, weobserved two vessels rounding Negro Point, close in-shore. It was quitecalm, and the boats were towing ahead.
"It will be dark in half-an-hour, Peter," said O'Brien, "and I think wemight get them before they anchor, or, if they do anchor, it will bewell outside. What do you think?"
I agreed with him, for in fact, I always seemed to be happier when thebrig was close in-shore, as I felt as if I was nearer to Celeste, andthe further we were off, the more melancholy I became. Continuallythinking of her, and the sight of her after so many years' separation,had changed my youthful attachment into strong affection. I may say thatI was deeply in love. The very idea of going into the harbour,therefore, gave me pleasure, and there was no mad or foolish thing thatI would not have done, only to gaze upon the walls which contained theconstant object of my thoughts. These were wild and visionary notions,and with little chance of ever arriving to any successful issue; but atone or two-and-twenty we are fond of building castles, and very apt tofall in love, without considering our prospect of success. I replied,that I thought it very possible, and wished he would permit me to makethe attempt, as, if I found there was much risk, I would return.
"I know that I can trust you, Peter," replied O'Brien, "and it's a greatpleasure to know that you have an officer you can trust: but haven't Ibrought you up myself, and made a man of you, as I promised I would,when you were a little spalpeen, with a sniffling nose, and legs in theshape of two carrots? So hoist out the launch, and get the boats ready--the sooner the better. What a hot day this has been--not a cat's-paw onthe water, and the sky all of a mist. Only look at the sun, how he goesdown, puffed out to three times his size, as if he were in a terriblepassion. I suspect we shall have the land breeze off strong."
In half an hour I shoved off with the boats. It was now quite dark, andI pulled towards the harbour of St Pierre. The heat was excessive andunaccountable; not the slightest breath of wind moved in the heavens orbelow; no clouds to be seen, and the stars were obscured by a sort ofmist: there appeared a total stagnation in the elements. The men in theboats pulled off their jackets, for, after a few moments' pulling, theycould bear them no longer. As we pulled in, the atmosphere became moreopaque, and the darkness more intense. We supposed ourselves to be atthe mouth of the harbour, but could see nothing--not three yards aheadof the boat. Swinburne, who always went with me, was steering the boat,and I observed to him the unusual appearance of the night.
"I've been watching it, sir," replied Swinburne, "and I tell you, MrSimple, that if we only know how to find the brig, that I would adviseyou to get on board of her immediately. She'll want all her hands thisnight, or I'm much mistaken."
"Why do you say so?" replied I.
"Because I think, nay, I may say that I'm sartin, we'll have a hurricaneafore morning. It's not the first time I've cruised in these latitudes.I recollect in '94--"
But I interrupted him: "Swinburne, I believe that you are right. At allevents, I'll turn back: perhaps we may reach the brig before it comeson. She carries a light, and we can find her out." I then turned theboat round, and steered, as near as I could guess, for where the brigwas lying. But we had not pulled out more than two minutes before a lowmoaning was heard in the atmosphere--now here, now there--and weappeared to be pulling through solid darkness, if I may use theexpression. Swinburne looked around him and pointed out on the starboardbow.
"It's a-coming, Mr Simple, sure enough; many's the living being thatwill not rise on its legs to-morrow. See, sir."
I looked, and dark as it was, it appeared as if a sort of black wall wassweeping along the water right towards us. The moaning graduallyincreased to a stunning roar, and then at once it broke upon us with anoise to which no thunder can bear a comparison. The oars were caught bythe wind with such force that the men were dashed forward under thethwarts, many of them severely hurt. Fortunately we pulled with tholesand pins, or the gunwale and planks of the boat would have been wrenchedoff, and we should have foundered. The wind soon caught the boat on herbroadside, and, had there been the least sea, would have inevitablythrown her over; but Swinburne put the helm down, and she fell offbefore the hurricane, darting through the boiling water at the rate often miles an hour. All hands were aghast; they had recovered theirseats, but were obliged to relinquish them and sit down at the bottom,holding on by the thwarts. The terrific roaring of the hurricaneprevented any communication, except by gesture. The other boats haddisappeared; lighter than ours, they had flown away faster before thesweeping element; but we had not been a minute before the wind beforethe sea rose in a most unaccountable manner--it appeared to be by magic.Of all the horrors that ever I witnessed, nothing could be compared tothe scene of this night. We could see nothing, and heard only the wind,before which we were darting like an arrow--to where we knew not, unlessit was to certain death. Swinburne steered the boat, every now and thenlooking back as the waves increased. In a few minutes we were in a heavyswell, that at one minute bore us all aloft, and at the next almostsheltered us from the hurricane; and now the atmosphere was charged withshowers of spray, the wind cutting off the summits of the waves, as ifwith a knife, and carrying them along with it, as it were, in its arms.The boat was filling with water, and appeared to settle down fast. Themen baled with their hats in silence, when a large wave culminated overthe stern, filling us up to our thwarts. The next moment we all receiveda shock so violent, that we were jerked from our seats. Swinburne wasthrown over my head. Every timber of the boat separated at once, and sheappeared to crumble from under us, leaving us floating on the ragingwaters. We all struck out for our lives, but with little hope ofpreserving them; but the next wave dashed us on the rocks, against whichthe boat had already been hurled. That wave gave life to some and deathto others. Me, in Heaven's mercy, it preserved: I was thrown so high upthat I merely scraped against the top of the rock, breaking two of myribs. Swinburne, and eight more, escaped with me, but not unhurt: twohad their legs broken, three had broken arms, and the others were moreor less contused. Swinburne miraculously received no injury. We had beeneighteen in the boat, of which ten escaped: the others were hurled up atour feet; and the next morning we found them dreadfully mangled. One ortwo had their skulls literally shattered to pieces against the rocks. Ifelt that I was saved, and was grateful; but still the hurricane howled--still the waves were washing over us. I crawled further up upon thebeach, and found Swinburne sitting down with his eyes directed seaward.He knew me, took my hand, squeezed it, and then held it in his. For somemoments we remained in this position, when the waves, which every momentincreased in volume, washed up to us, and obliged us to crawl furtherup. I then looked around me; the hurricane continued in its fury, butthe atmosphere was not so dark. I could trace, for some distance, theline of the harbour, from the ridge of foam upon the shore; and, for thefirst time, I thought of O'Brien and the brig. I put my mouth close toSwinburne's ear, and cried out, "O'Brien!" Swinburne shook his head, andlooked up again at the offing. I thought whether there was any chance ofthe brig's escape. She was certainly six, if not seven miles off, andthe hurricane was not direct on the shore. She might have a drift of tenmiles, perhaps; but what was that against such tremendous power? Iprayed for those on board of the brig, and returned thanks for my ownpreservation. I was, or soon should be, a prisoner, no doubt; but whatwas that? I thought of Celeste, and felt almost happy.
In about three hours the force of the wind subsided. It still blew aheavy gale, but the sky cleared up, the stars again twinkled in theheavens, and we could see to a consid
erable distance.
"It's breaking now, sir," said Swinburne, at last; "satisfied with theinjury it has done--and that's no little. This is worse than '94."
"Now, I'd give all my pay and prize-money if it were only daylight, andI could know the fate of the poor _Rattlesnake_. What do you think,Swinburne?"
"All depends upon whether they were taken unprepared, sir. CaptainO'Brien is as good a seaman as ever trod a plank; but he never has beenin a hurricane, and may not have known, the signs and warnings which Godin His mercy has vouchsafed to us. Your flush vessels fill easily--butwe must hope for the best."
Most anxiously did we look out for the day, which appeared to us as ifit never would break. At last the dawn appeared, and we stretched oureyes to every part of the offing as it was lighted up, but we could notsee the brig. The sun rose, and all was bright and clear; but we lookednot around us, our eyes were directed to where we had left the brig. Thesea was still running high, but the wind abated fast.
"Thank God!" ejaculated Swinburne, when he had directed his eyes alongthe coast, "she is above water, at all events!" and looking in thedirection where he pointed, I perceived the brig within two miles of theshore, dismantled, and tossing in the waves.
"I see her," replied I, catching my breath with joy; "but--still--Ithink she must go on shore."
"All depends upon whether she can get a little bit of sail up to weatherthe point," replied Swinburne; "and depend upon it, Captain O'Brienknows that as well as we do."
We were now joined by the other men who were saved. We all shook hands.They pointed out to me the bodies of our shipmates who had perished. Idirected them to haul them further up, and put them all together; andcontinued, with Swinburne, to watch the brig. In about half an hour weperceived a triangle raised, and in ten minutes afterwards a jury-mastabaft--a try-sail was hoisted and set. Then the shears were seenforward, and in as short a time another try-sail and a storm-jib wereexpanded to the wind.
"That's all he can do now, Mr Simple," observed Swinburne; "he musttrust to them and Providence. They are not more than a mile from thebeach--it will be touch and go."
Anxiously did we watch for more than half an hour; the other menreturned to us, and joined in our speculations. At one time we thoughtit impossible--at another, we were certain that she would weather thepoint. At last, as she neared us, she warped ahead: my anxiety becamealmost insupportable. I stood first on one leg, and then on the other,breathless with suspense. She appeared to be on the point--actuallytouching the rocks--"God! she's struck!" said I.
"No!" replied Swinburne;--and then we saw her pass on the other side ofthe outermost rock and disappear.
"Safe, Mr Simple!--weathered, by God!" cried Swinburne, waving his hatwith joy.
"God be thanked!" replied I, overcome with delight.
Peter Simple; and, The Three Cutters, Vol. 1-2 Page 53