The Survivors of the Chancellor (14 page)

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To-day, the 20th, the temperature is as high as ever, and
the raft still motionless. The rays of the sun penetrate even
through the shelter of our tent, where we sit literally gasping with the heat. The impatience with which we awaited
the moment when the boatswain should dole out our meager
allowance of water, and the eagerness with which those
lukewarm drops were swallowed, can only be realized by
those who for themselves have endured the agonies of
thirst.

Lieutenant Walter suffers more than any of us from the
scarcity of water, and I noticed that Miss Herbey reserved
almost the whole of her own share for his use. Kind and
compassionate as ever, the young girl does all that lies in
her power to relieve the poor fellow's sufferings.

"Mr. Kazallon," she said to me this morning, "that
young man gets manifestly weaker every day."

"Yes, Miss Herbey," I replied, "and how sorrowful it
is that we can do nothing for him, absolutely nothing."

"Hush!" she said, with her wonted consideration, "perhaps he will hear what we are saying."

And then she sat down near the edge of the raft, where,
with her head resting on her hands, she remained lost in
thought.

An incident sufficiently unpleasant occurred to-day. For
nearly an hour Owen, Flaypole, Burke and Jynxstrop had
been engaged in close conversation and, although their
voices were low, their gestures had betrayed that they were
animated by some strong excitement. At the conclusion
of the colloquy Owen got up and walked deliberately to the
quarter of the raft that has been reserved for the use of the
passengers.

"Where are you off to now, Owen?" said the boatswain.

"That's my business," said the man insolently, and pursued his course.

The boatswain was about to stop him, but before he could
interfere Curtis was standing and looking Owen steadily in
the face.

"Ah, captain, I've got a word from my mates to say to
you," he said, with all the effrontery imaginable.

"Say on, then," said the captain coolly.

"We should like to know about that little keg of brandy.
Is it being kept for the porpoises or the officers?"

Finding that he obtained no reply, he went on:

"Look here, captain, what we want is to have our grog
served out every morning as usual."

"Then you certainly will not," said the captain.

"What! what!" exclaimed Owen, "don't you mean to
let us have our grog?"

"Once and for all, no."

For a moment, with a malicious grin upon his lips, Owen
stood confronting the captain; then, as though thinking better of himself, he turned round and rejoined his companions,
who were still talking together in an undertone.

When I was afterward discussing the matter with Curtis,
I asked him whether he was sure he had done right in refusing the brandy.

"Right!" he cried, "to be sure I have. Allow those
men to have brandy! I would throw it all overboard first."

Chapter XXXIV - A Squall
*

DECEMBER 21. — No further disturbance has taken place
among the men. For a few hours the fish appeared again,
and we caught a great many of them, and stored them away
in an empty barrel. This addition to our stock of provisions makes us hope that food, at least, will not fail us.

Usually the nights in the tropics are cool, but to-day, as
the evening drew on, the wonted freshness did not return,
but the air remained stifling and oppressive, while heavy
masses of vapor hung over the water.

There was no moonlight; there would be a new moon
at half-past one in the morning, but the night was singularly
dark, except for dazzling flashes of summer lightning that
from time to time illuminated the horizon far and wide.
There was, however, no answering roll of thunder, and
the silence of the atmosphere seemed almost awful.

For a couple of hours, in the vain hope of catching a
breath of air, Miss Herbey, Andre Letourneur, and I, sat
watching the imposing struggle of the electric vapors. The
clouds appeared like embattled turrets crested with flame,
and the very sailors, coarse-minded men as they were,
seemed struck with the grandeur of the spectacle, and regarded attentively, though with an anxious eye, the preliminary tokens of a coming storm. Until midnight we
kept our seats upon the stern of the raft, while the lightning
ever and again shed around us a livid glare similar to that
produced by adding salt to lighted alcohol.

"Are you afraid of a storm. Miss Herbey?" said Andre
to the girl.

"No, Mr. Andre, my feelings are always rather those of
awe than of fear," she replied. "I consider a storm one of
the sublimest phenomena that we can behold — don't you
think so too?"

"Yes, and especially when the thunder is pealing," he
said; "that majestic rolling, far different to the sharp crash
of artillery, rises and falls like the long-drawn notes of the
grandest music, and I can safely say that the tones of the
most accomplished artiste have never moved me like that incomparable voice of nature."

"Rather a deep bass, though," I said, laughing.

"That may be," he answered; "but I wish we might hear
it now, for this silent lightning is somewhat unexpressive."

"Never mind that, Andre," I said; "enjoy a storm when
it comes, if you like, but pray don't wish for it."

"And why not?" said he; "a storm will bring us wind,
you know."

"And water, too," added Miss Herbey, "the water of
which we are so seriously in need."

The young people evidently wished to regard the storm
from their own point of view, and although I could have
opposed plenty of common sense to their poetical sentiments,
I said no more, but let them talk on as they pleased for
fully an hour.

Meanwhile the sky was becoming quite over-clouded, and
after the zodiacal constellations had disappeared in the mists
that hung round the horizon, one by one the stars above our
heads were veiled in dark rolling masses of vapor, from
which every instant there issued forth sheets of electricity
that formed a vivid background to the dark gray fragments
of cloud that floated beneath.

Sleep, even if we wished it, would have been impossible in
that stifling temperature. The lightning increased in
brilliancy and appeared from all quarters of the horizon,
each flash covering large arcs, varying from l00 deg. to 150 deg.,
leaving the atmosphere pervaded by one incessant phosphorescent glow.

The thunder became at length more and more distinct,
the reports, if I may use the expression, being "round,"
rather than rolling. It seemed almost as though the sky
were padded with heavy clouds of which the elasticity
muffled the sound of the electric bursts.

Hitherto, the sea had been calm, almost stagnant as a
pond. Now, however, long undulations took place, which
the sailors recognized, all too well, as being the rebound produced by a distant tempest. A ship, in such a case, would
have been instantly brought ahull, but no maneuvering could
be applied to our raft, which could only drift before the
blast.

At one o'clock in the morning one vivid flash, followed,
after the interval of a few seconds, by a loud report of
thunder, announced that the storm was rapidly approaching.
Suddenly the horizon was enveloped in a vaporous fog, and
seemed to contract until it was close around us. At the
same instant the voice of one of the sailors was heard shouting:

"A squall! a squall!"

Chapter XXXV - Two Sailors Washed Overboard
*

DECEMBER 21, night. — The boatswain rushed to the
halliards that supported the sail, and instantly lowered the
yard; not a moment too soon, for with the speed of an
arrow the squall was upon us, and if it had not been for
the sailor's timely warning we must all have been knocked
down and probably precipitated into the sea; as it was, our
tent on the back of the raft was carried away.

The raft itself, however, being so nearly level with the
water, had little peril to encounter from the actual wind;
but from the mighty waves now raised by the hurricane we
had everything to dread. At first the waves had been
crushed and flattened as it were by the pressure of the air,
but now, as though strengthened by the reaction, they rose
with the utmost fury. The raft followed the motions of
the increasing swell, and was tossed up and down, to and
fro, and from side to side with the most violent oscillations.

"Lash yourselves tight," cried the boatswain, as he threw
us some ropes; and in a few moments with Curtis's assistance, M. Letourneur, and Andre, Falsten and myself were
fastened so firmly to the raft, that nothing but its total disruption could carry us away. Miss Herbey was bound by
a rope passed round her waist to one of the uprights that had
supported our tent, and by the glare of the lightning I
could see that her countenance was as serene and composed
as ever.

Then the storm began to rage indeed. Flash followed
flash, peal followed peal in quick succession. Our eyes were
blinded, our ears deafened, with the roar and glare. The
clouds above, the ocean beneath, seemed verily to have taken
fire, and several times I saw forked lightnings dart upward
from the crest of the waves, and mingle with those that
radiated from the fiery vault above. A strong odor of
sulphur pervaded the air, but though thunderbolts fell thick
around us, not one touched our raft.

By two o'clock the storm had reached its height. The
hurricane had increased, and the heavy waves, heated to a
strange heat by the general temperature, dashed over us
until we were drenched to the skin. Curtis, Dowlas, the
boatswain, and the sailors did what they could to strengthen
the raft with additional ropes. M. Letourneur placed himself in front of Andre, to shelter him from the waves.
Miss Herbey stood upright and motionless as a statue.

Soon dense masses of lurid clouds came rolling up, and
a crackling, like the rattle of musketry, resounded through
the air. This was produced by a series of electrical concussions, in which volleys of hailstones were discharged
from the cloud-batteries above. In fact, as the storm-sheet
came in contact with a current of cold air, hail was formed
with great rapidity, and hailstones, large as nuts, came pelting down, making the platform of the raft re-echo with a
metallic ring.

For about half an hour the meteoric shower continued
to descend, and during that time the wind slightly abated
in violence; but after having shifted from quarter to quarter, it once more blew with all its former fury. The
shrouds were broken, but happily the mast, already bending
almost double, was removed by the men from its socket before it should be snapped short off.. One gust caught away
the tiller, which went adrift beyond all power of recovery,
and the same blast blew down several of the planks that
formed the low parapet on the larboard side, so that the
waves dashed in without hindrance through the breach.

The carpenter and his mates tried to repair the damage,
but, tossed from wave to wave, the raft was inclined to an
angle of more than forty-five degrees, making it impossible
for them to keep their footing, and rolling one over another,
they were thrown down by the violent shocks. Why they
were not altogether carried away, why we were not all
hurled into the sea, was to me a mystery. Even if the cords
that bound us should retain their hold, it seemed perfectly
incredible that the raft itself should not be overturned, so
that we should be carried down and stifled in the seething
waters.

At last, toward three in the morning, when the hurricane
seemed to be raging more fiercely than ever, the raft, caught
up on the crest of an enormous wave, stood literally perpendicularly on its edge. For an instant, by the illumination of the lightning, we beheld ourselves raised to an incomprehensible height above the foaming breakers. Cries
of terror escaped our lips. All must be over now! But
no; another moment, and the raft had resumed its horizontal
position. Safe, indeed, we were, but the tremendous upheaval was not without its melancholy consequences.

The cords that secured the cases of provisions had burst
asunder. One case rolled overboard, and the side of one
of the water-barrels was staved in, so that the water which
it contained was rapidly escaping. Two of the sailors
rushed forward to rescue the case of preserved meat; but
one of them caught his foot between the planks of the platform, and, unable to disengage it, the poor fellow stood
uttering cries of distress.

I tried to go to his assistance, and had already untied
the cord that was around me; but I was too late.

Another heavy sea dashed over us, and by the light of a
dazzling flash I saw the unhappy man, although he had
managed without assistance to disengage his foot, washed
overboard before it was in my power to get near him. His
companion had also disappeared.

The same ponderous wave laid me prostrate on the platform, and as my head came in collision with the corner of
a spar, for a time I lost all consciousness.

Chapter XXXVI - We Lose Nearly All Our Provisions
*

DECEMBER 22. — Daylight came at length, and the sun
broke through and dispersed the clouds that the storm had
left behind. The struggle of the elements, while it lasted,
had been terrific, but the swoon into which I was thrown
by my fall prevented me from observing the final incidents
of the visitation. All that I know is, that shortly after we
had shipped the heavy sea, that I have mentioned, a shower
of rain had the effect of calming the severity of the hurricane, and tended to diminish the electric tension of the
atmosphere.

Thanks to the kind care of M. Letourneur and Miss Herbey, I recovered consciousness, but I believe that it is to
Robert Curtis that I owe my real deliverance, for he it was
that prevented me from being carried away by a second
heavy wave.

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