by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER VIII.
A PORT IN A STORM.
"Washburn, you have a long head; can you make anything of thesituation, for I suppose you know all about it?" I asked, as I joinedthe mate on the forecastle.
"I know what I have heard about the pilot-house and on the forecastle,"replied Washburn.
"I have not been able to make anything out of it, so far," I continued.
"I can't believe that the captain of the Islander means to run awaywith her. I don't believe this is a trial trip, as you suggested, forthe captain would not have come out into this fog on such an errand,"added Washburn. "On the whole, I must believe it is a blunder on thepart of the captain of the consort. But I think we are not likely tofind out anything definite about the case until we overhaul theIslander. All we have to do is to keep moving to the southward, andkeep a sharp lookout for the chase. It is useless to bother one'sbrains over questions that cannot be answered."
"When I saw the Islander, she was well in shore," I added. "If shetakes a notion to come about, and run back to the St. Johns, we maymiss her."
"And she may drop into St. Augustine," said the mate.
"I don't see any reason why she should," I replied. "Captain Blastblowknows that the party are bound up the Mississippi River. He knows theSylvania is, at any rate; and he would not have headed to the southwardif he had not intended to make the same trip, always supposing he hasmisunderstood his instructions."
"By six o'clock to-night, if everything holds as it is, we ought tooverhaul the Islander, if we don't miss her in the fog, and CaptainBlastblow don't do any better in her than any one else has ever done,"continued Washburn. "But the wind is freshening, Captain Alick."
"Yes; and the barometer indicates that we are to have a bad day of it,"I replied, looking at the white caps that rolled up to windward of thesteamer.
The wind was gusty and savage. The steamer heeled well over to portunder the heavy press of sail we were carrying. But I did not care muchhow hard it blew, if it would only carry off the fog, as I believed itwould do soon.
By half-past ten I found it necessary to take in the fore square-sailand the fore top-gallant sail, for I was afraid the heavy weight ofcanvas would strain the foremast. This relieved the steamer for a time;but the wind had increased to a gale, and had hauled more to thesouthward. Half an hour later we took in the fore topsail and the maingaff-topsail, so that nothing but our fore and aft sails remained. Thelog at eleven indicated that we were making twelve knots, and it wasabout time for us to be up with St. Augustine light, but we could notsee it in the fog. Suddenly we heard a fog-horn on our starboard bow.
I rushed into the pilot-house and rang the gong. The engineerimmediately stopped the engine, and the roar of escaping steamfollowed. I was afraid we might run down some of the small craft thatgo in and out of St. Augustine.
"Sail, ho!" shouted Ben Bowman, on the top-gallant forecastle. "I seeher; she is a pilot-boat."
A moment later I saw a sail-boat, in which were three men. There was anumber on her sail, which indicated that she was a pilot-boat. She hadevidently heard our whistle, and had came out in the rough sea to takeus into St. Augustine, if we were bound into that port. I directed thewheel man to port the helm, so as to throw the Sylvania up into thewind under the stern of the pilot-boat.
"How came you up there, captain?" demanded one of the men in the boat,and all of them looked amazed.
"We are bound to the southward, coming down from St. Johns bar," Ireplied. "How does St. Augustine bear from here?"
"Due east," answered the spokesman of the trio.
"Look out for your reckoning, Washburn," I added, turning to the mate.
"Twenty minutes of twelve," added Washburn, consulting the chronometer."This is exactly where we ought to be at this time," and he made theentry on the log-slate.
"Haven't you been over this course before to-day?" asked the spokesmanof the pilot.
"Not to-day," I answered, perceiving what it was that bewildered thepilots. They had evidently seen the Islander, and supposed theSylvania was the same steamer.
"We came out here after a steamer we heard whistling in the fog,"continued the speaker. "We got near enough to hail her; and if this isnot the same steamer, she is as near like the other as one pea is likeanother."
"She is the twin sister of this vessel. Did you see who was on board ofher?" I inquired.
"I saw no one but the captain, and he said he was bound south, and wasnot going into St. Augustine."
"Did he tell you where he was bound?"
"He didn't say a word about it, but kept on his course."
"Good-day," I added, as I told Hop to ring the speed-bell.
We filled away again, and were soon going through the water at ourformer speed. The pilot-boat was almost swamped in the heavy sea, and Ihave no doubt her crew were a little out of sorts after coming out fora vessel and getting nothing for their pains.
"That's good as far as it goes," said Washburn, when we were on ourcourse again. "We are sure now that the Islander has not gone intoport."
"And we are sure the Islander is not a great way ahead of us," I added.
"Just seven miles," replied the mate, glancing at the log-slate. "Icould stick a pin in the chart at exactly the point where she is."
"But it may be that Captain Blastblow has not blown his blast entirelyin vain, and may have been able to get more speed out of the Islanderthan anybody else has," I suggested.
"But the pilots said she was only half an hour or so ahead of us. Shegot off at least an hour ahead of us; and if we have not been gainingon her, she ought to be about ten miles ahead," argued Washburn. I waswilling to accept his logic, for we had been over the reasoning timesenough to understand the case in precisely the same way.
"The fog is lifting, sir," reported the second engineer, who was doingvoluntary duty on the top-gallant forecastle.
This was agreeable news, and all hands directed their gaze to the pointwhere the Islander was believed to be. The gale was increasing in forceevery moment. Though I had no fears for the safety of the vessel, Iknew how fearfully so small a steamer as the Sylvania leaped and rolledin a heavy gale, and I was not a little concerned about the comfort ofmy passengers. We had had a very thorough trial of her pitching androlling in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and I did not like to subject theShepards and the Tiffanys to any unnecessary discomfort.
"We are going to have a regular muzzler, Washburn," I said, afterglancing at the barometer again.
"There isn't any doubt about that," he replied, laughing. "I wish wehad no ladies on board."
"I was thinking of that myself, and I will go down into the cabin, andtalk the matter over with our passengers," I replied. "Of course if wegive up the chase of the Islander, we are not likely to come near heragain. But Colonel Shepard and his family may decide that question."
I left the pilot-house and went aft. Though we were but a few milesfrom the land, there was a tremendous sea raging, and the Sylvania waspitching violently. I went down into the cabin and found the passengerstrying to keep their places on the transoms. They were all exceedinglygood-natured about the situation. Owen was making jokes, and the youngladies were laughing at them. Cobbington and Tom Sands had put theguards on the table, and were doing what they could to prepare fordinner.
"Why do you shake up the Sylvania so fiercely, Alick?" asked Owen.
"She is behaving very prettily just now; but I came down to tell youthat it is likely to blow, and kick up an uncomfortable sea," Ireplied, looking at Mrs. Shepard, who seemed to be the most tried bythe situation.
"But I had an idea that it was blowing already," added Owen.
"So it is, in a mild way," I answered.
"If this is only in a mild way, what will it be when it blows harder?"asked Mrs. Shepard, nervously.
"It will be worse than it is now," I replied.
"Do you think we are in any danger, Captain Alick," inquired the lady,looking very anxiously into my face.
> "I do not think we are in any danger," I added. "But it is going toblow a great deal harder than it does now."
"What will it do then, Captain Alick?" asked Miss Edith.
"The Sylvania is small, and she will pitch and roll a great deal morethan she does now. Mr. Garningham has been in her during a very heavygale, and he can tell you something about it."
"She stands up straight, and rolls quite over, so that we shall all bepitched against the ceiling of the cabin," added Owen, maliciously."Then she goes down under the brine, quite out of sight of any onesupposed to be on the top of the waves. The water may come down intothis cabin like a young Niagara."
"Then there must be very great danger," said Mrs. Shepard.
"No great danger, madam, but I fear you will be very uncomfortable," Ianswered.
"But can't we stop till the weather is better?"
"We shall find no port it will be safe to enter in this weather,madam," I replied. "If it were fine weather, we might run into MosquitoInlet; but that is seven hours' run from here."
"We shall all have our brains knocked out if we go on in this way,"groaned Mrs. Shepard. "Can't you do something to make us morecomfortable, Captain Alick?"
"I can make you all quite comfortable in less than an hour," Ianswered. "But our business just now is to overtake the Islander; andif we delay the voyage we may never see her again."
"Plague on the Islander!" exclaimed the lady.
"I don't think there is any particular danger, ladies," interposed myfather. "It is altogether a matter of comfort."
"I don't want to have my brains knocked out," added Miss Edith.
"If we keep on we may know who has brains and who has not," laughedOwen.
"I'm sure those who want to be thumped about in this manner haven't anybrains," continued Mrs. Shepard. "What can you do, Captain Alick?"
"We have just passed the entrance to St. Augustine harbor. We could runback, and make a port there," I replied.
"Then do it, for mercy's sake," said the lady, as a heavy sea rolledthe steamer down to her gunwale.
"I should certainly have suggested doing so, if we had not been inchase of the Islander."
"That need not make any difference, Captain Alick."
"The gale may last all night as well as all day, Alick," added myfather. "We are sailing for pleasure, and there is no pleasure in beingbeaten about in this manner. I think you had better put about and getus into smooth water."
I went on deck rather disappointed at the result of the conference, forI was interested in the chase. I ordered the jib and mainsail to betaken in, and the helm to be put down. The fog had lifted to thenorthward and westward of us, so that I could see St. Augustine lightand the pilot-boat. We took up one of the pilots, and in less than halfan hour we were anchored under the lee of the town, where the water wasas smooth as that of a mill-pond.
Our party were not inclined to land, and we spent a pleasant afternoonon board, in spite of the storm. We could see that it was blowingalmost a hurricane outside, and were quite contented to be at anchor.