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Dick Sands, The Boy Captain, a fiction by Jules Verne |
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Part 1 - Chapter 13. Land At Last |
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_ PART THE FIRST CHAPTER XIII. LAND AT LAST It was not long before Dick's sanguine expectations were partially realized, for on the very next day, which was the 27th, the barometer began to rise, not rapidly, but steadily, indicating that its elevation would probably continue. The sea remained exceedingly rough, but the violence of the wind, which had veered slightly towards the west, had perceptibly diminished. The tempest had passed its greatest fury, and was beginning to wear itself out. Not a sail, however, could yet be hoisted; the smallest show of canvas would have been carried away in an instant; nevertheless Dick hoped that before another twenty-four hours were over, the "Pilgrim" might be able to carry a storm-jib. In the course of the night the wind moderated still more and the pitching of the ship had so far diminished that the passengers began to reappear on deck. Mrs. Weldon was the first to leave her enforced imprisonment. She was anxious to speak to Dick, whom she might have expected to find looking pale and wan after his almost superhuman exertions and loss of sleep. But she was mistaken; however much the lad might suffer from the strain in after-years, at present he exhibited no symptoms of failing energy. "Well, Captain Dick, how are you?" she said, as she advanced towards him holding out her hand. Dick smiled. "You call me captain, Mrs. Weldon," he answered, "but you do not seem disposed to submit implicitly to captain's orders. Did I not direct you to keep to your cabin?" "You did," replied the lady; "but observing how much the storm had abated, I could not resist the temptation to disobey you." "Yes, madam, the weather is far more promising; the barometer has not fallen since yesterday morning, and I really trust the worst is over now." "Thank Heaven!" she replied, and after a few moments' silence, she added.- "But now, Dick, you must really take some rest; you may perhaps not know how much you require it; but it is absolutely necessary." "Rest!" the boy repeated; "rest! I want no rest. I have only done my duty, and it will be time enough for me to concern myself about my own rest, when I have seen my passengers in a place of safety." "You have acquitted yourself like a man," said Mrs. Weldon; "and you may be assured that my husband, like myself, will never forget the services you have rendered me. I shall urge upon him the request which I am sure he will not refuse, that you shall have your studies completed, so that you may be made a captain for the firm." Tears of gratitude rose to Dick's eyes. He deprecated the praise that was lavished upon him, but rejoiced in the prospect that seemed opening upon his future. Mrs. Weldon assured him that he was dear as a son to her, and pressed a gentle kiss upon his forehead. The lad felt that he was animated, if need be, to yet greater hardships in behalf of his benefactors, and resolved to prove himself even more worthy of their confidence. By the 29th, the wind had so far moderated that Dick thought he might increase the "Pilgrim's" speed by hoisting the foresail and topsail. "Now, my men, I have some work for you to-day," he said to the negroes when he came on deck at daybreak. "All right, captain," answered Hercules, "we are growing rusty for want of something to do." "Why didn't you blow with your big mouth?" said little Jack; "you could have beaten the wind all to nothing." Dick laughed, and said, "Not a bad idea, Jack; if ever we get becalmed, we must get Hercules to blow into the sails." "I shall be most happy," retorted the giant, and he inflated his huge checks till he was the very impersonation of Boreas himself. "But now to work!" cried Dick; "we have lost our topsail, and we must contrive to hoist another. Not an easy matter, I can tell you." "I dare say we shall manage it," replied Actæon. "We must do our best," said Tom. "Can't I help?" inquired Jack. "Of course you can," answered Dick; "run along to the wheel, and assist Bat." Jack strutted off, proud enough of his commission. Under Dick's directions, the negroes commenced their somewhat difficult task. The new topsail, rolled up, had first of all to be hoisted, and then to be made fast to the yard; but so adroitly did the crew carry out their orders, that in less than an hour the sail was properly set and flying with a couple of reefs. The foresail and second jib, which had been taken down before the tempest, were hoisted again, and before ten o'clock the "Pilgrim" was running along under the three sails which Dick considered were as much as it was prudent to carry. Even at her present speed, the schooner, he reckoned, would be within sight of the American shore in about ten days. It was an immense relief to him to find that she was no longer at the mercy of the waves, and when he saw the sails properly set he returned in good spirits to his post at the helm, not forgetting to thank the temporary helmsman for his services, nor omitting his acknowledgment to Master Jack, who received the compliment with becoming gravity. Although the clouds continued to travel all the next day with great rapidity they were very much broken, and alternately the "Pilgrim" was bathed in sunlight and enveloped in vapours, which rolled on towards the east. As the weather cleared, the hatchways were opened in order to ventilate the ship, and the outer air was allowed again to penetrate not only the hold, but the cabin and crew's quarters The wet sails were hung out to dry, the deck was washed down, for Dick Sands was anxious not to bring his ship into port without having "finished her toilet," and he found that his crew could very well spare a few hours daily to get her into proper trim. Notwithstanding the loss of the log, Dick had sufficient experience to be able to make an approximate estimate of the schooner's progress, and after having pointed out to Mrs. Weldon what he imagined was the "Pilgrim's" true position, he told her that it was his firm impression that land would be sighted in little more than a week. "And upon what part of South America do you reckon we are likely to find ourselves?" she asked. "That is more than I dare venture to promise," replied Dick; "but I should think somewhere hereabouts." He was pointing on the chart to the long shore-line of Chili and Peru. They both examined the outspread chart with still closer attention. "Here, you see," resumed Dick, "here is the island we have just left; we left it in the west; the wind has not shifted; we must expect to come in sight of land, pretty nearly due east of it. The coast has plenty of harbours. From any one of them you will be able easily to get to San Francisco. You know, I dare say, that the Pacific Navigation Company's steamers touch at all the principal ports. From any of them you will be sure to get direct passage to California." "But do you mean," asked Mrs. Weldon, "that you are not going yourself to take the schooner to San Francisco?" "Not direct," replied the young captain; "I want to see you safe on shore and satisfactorily on your homeward way. When that is done, I shall hope to get competent officers to take the ship to Valparaiso, where she will discharge her cargo, as Captain Hull intended; and afterwards I shall work our way back to San Francisco." "Ah, well; we will see all about that in due time." Mrs. Weldon said, smiling; and, after a short pause, added, "At one time, Dick, you seemed to have rather a dread of the shore." "Quite true," answered Dick; "but now I am in hopes we may fall in with some passing vessel; we want to have a confirmation as to our true position. I cannot tell you how surprised I am that we have not come across a single vessel. But when we near the land we shall be able to get a pilot." "But what will happen if we fail to get a pilot?" was Mrs. Weldon's inquiry. She was anxious to learn how far the lad was prepared to meet any emergency. With unhesitating promptness Dick replied,- "Why, then, unless the weather takes the control of the ship out of my hands, I must patiently follow the coast until I come to a harbour of refuge. But if the wind should freshen, I should have to adopt other measures." "What then, Dick, what then?" persisted Mrs. Weldon. The boy's brow knitted itself together in resolution, and he said deliberately,- "I should run the ship aground." Mrs. Weldon started. "However," Dick continued, "there is no reason to apprehend this. The weather has mended and is likely to mend. And why should we fear about finding a pilot? Let us hope all will be well." Mrs. Weldon at least had satisfied herself on one point. She had ascertained that although Dick did not anticipate disaster, yet he was prepared in the case of emergency to resort to measures from which any but the most experienced seaman would shrink. But although Dick's equanimity had been successful in allaying any misgivings on Mrs. Weldon's part, it must be owned that the condition of the atmosphere caused him very serious uneasiness. The wind remained uncomfortably high, and the barometer gave very ominous indications that it would ere long freshen still more. Dick dreaded that the time was about to return in which once again he must reduce his vessel to a state of bare poles; but so intense was his aversion to having his ship so wrested as it were from his own management, that he determined to carry the topsail till it was all but carried away by the force of the blast. Concerned, moreover, for the safety of his masts, the loss of which he acknowledged must be fatal, he had the shrouds well overhauled and the backstays considerably tightened. More than once another contingency occurred to his mind, and gave him some anxiety. He could not overlook the possibility of the wind changing all round. What should he do in such a case? He would of course endeavour by all means to get the schooner on by incessant tacking; but was there not the certainty of a most hazardous delay? and worse than this, was there not a likelihood of the "Pilgrim" being once again driven far out to sea? Happily these forebodings were not realized. The wind, after chopping about for several days, at one time blowing from the north, and at another from the south, finally settled down into a stiffish gale from the west, which did nothing worse than severely strain the masts. In this weary but hopeful endurance time passed on. The 5th of April had arrived. It was more than two months since the "Pilgrim" had quitted New Zealand; it was true that during the first three weeks of her voyage she had been impeded by protracted calms and contrary winds; but since that time her speed had been rapid, the very tempests had driven her forwards with unwonted velocity; she had never failed to have her bow towards the land, and yet land seemed as remote as ever; the coast line was retreating as they approached it. What could be the solution of the mystery? From the cross-trees one or other of the negroes was kept incessantly on the watch. Dick Sands himself, telescope in hand, would repeatedly ascend in the hope of beholding some lofty peak of the Andes emerging from the mists that hung over the horizon. But all in vain. False alarms were given more than once. Sometimes Tom, sometimes Hercules, or one of the others would be sure that a distant speck they had descried was assuredly a mountain ridge; but the vapours were continually gathering in such fantastic forms that their unexperienced eyes were soon deceived, and they seldom had to wait long before their fond delusion was all dispelled. At last, the expected longing was fulfilled. At eight o'clock one morning the mists seemed broken up with unusual rapidity, and the horizon was singularly clear. Dick had hardly gone aloft when his voice rung out,- "Land! Land ahead!" As if summoned by a spell, every one was on deck in an instant: Mrs. Weldon, sanguine of a speedy end to the general anxiety; little Jack, gratified at a new object of curiosity; Cousin Benedict, already scenting a new field for entomological investigation; old Nan; and the negroes, eager to set foot upon American soil; all, with the exception of Negoro, all were on deck; but the cook did not stir from his solitude, or betray any sympathy with the general excitement. Whatever hesitation there might be at first soon passed away; one after another soon distinguished the shore they were approaching, and in half an hour there was no room for the most sceptical to doubt that Dick was right. There was land not far ahead. A few miles to the east there was a long low-lying coast; the chain of the Andes ought to be visible; but it was obscured, of course, by the intervening clouds. The "Pilgrim" bore down rapidly towards the land, and in a short time its configuration could be plainly made out. Towards the north-east the coast terminated in a headland of moderate height sheltering a kind of roadstead; on the south-east it stretched out in a long and narrow tongue. The Andes were still wanting to the scene; they must be somewhere in the background; but at present, strange to say, there was only a succession of low cliffs with some trees standing out against the sky. No human habitation, no harbour, not even an indication of a river-mouth, could anywhere be seen. The wind remained brisk, and the schooner was driving directly towards the land, with sails shortened as seemed desirable; but Dick realized to himself the fact that he was utterly incapable of altering her course. With eager eyes he scrutinized his situation. Straight ahead was a reef over which the waves were curling, and around which the surf must be tremendous. It could hardly be more than a mile away. The wind seemed brisker than before. After gazing awhile, Dick seemed to have come to a sudden resolution. He went quickly aft and took the helm. He had seen a little cove, and had made up his mind that he would try and make his way into it. He did not speak a word; he knew the difficulty of the task he had undertaken; he was aware from the white foam, that there was shallow water on either hand; but he kept the secret of the peril to himself, and sought no counsel in coming to his fixed resolve. Dingo had been trotting up and down the deck. All at once he bounded to the fore, and broke out into a piteous howl. It roused Dick from his anxious cogitations. Was it possible that the animal recognized the coast? It almost seemed as if it brought back some painful associations. The howling of the dog had manifestly attracted Negoro's attention; the man emerged from his cabin, and, regardless of the dog, stood close to the netting; but although he gazed at the surf, it did not seem to occasion him any alarm. Mrs. Weldon, who was watching him, fancied she saw a flush rise to his face, which involuntarily suggested the thought to her mind that Negoro had seen the place before. Either she had no time or no wish to express what had struck her, for she did not mention it to Dick, who, at that moment, left the helm, and came and stood beside her. Dick looked as if he were taking a lingering farewell of the cove past which they were being carried beyond his power to help. In a few moments he turned round to Mrs. Weldon, and said quietly,- "Mrs. Weldon, I am disappointed. I hoped to get the schooner into yonder cove; but there is no chance now; if nothing is done, in half an hour she will be upon that reef. I have but one alternative left. I must run her aground. It will be utter destruction to the ship, but there is no choice. Your safety is the first and paramount consideration." "Do you mean that there is no other course to be taken, Dick?" "None whatever," said Dick decidedly. "It must be as you will," she said. Forthwith ensued the agitating preparations for stranding. Mrs. Weldon, Jack, Cousin Benedict, and Nan were provided with life belts, while Dick and the negroes made themselves ready for being dashed into the waves. Every precaution that the emergency admitted was duly taken. Mrs. Weldon was entrusted to the special charge of Hercules; Dick made himself responsible for doing all he could for little Jack; Cousin Benedict, who was tolerably calm, was handed over to Bat and Austin; while Actæon promised to look after Nan. Negoro's nonchalance implied that he was quite capable of shifting for himself. Dick had the forethought also to order about a dozen barrels of their cargo to be brought in front, so that when the "Pilgrim" struck, the oil escaping and floating on the waves would temporarily lull their fury, and make smoother water for the passage of the ship. After satisfying himself that there was no other measure to be taken to ameliorate the peril, Dick Sands returned to the helm. The schooner was all but upon the reef, and only a few cables' length from the shore; her starboard quarter indeed was already bathed in the seething foam, and any instant the keel might be expected to grate upon the under-lying rock. Presently a change of colour in the water was observed; it revealed a passage between the rocks. Dick gave the wheel a turn; he saw the chance of getting aground nearer to the shore than he had dared to hope, and he made the most of it. He steered the schooner right into the narrow channel; the sea was furious, and dashed vehemently upon the crags on either hand. "Now, my lads!" he cried to his crew, "now's your time; out with your oil! let it run!" Ready for the order, the negroes poured out the oil, and the raging waters were stilled as if by magic. A few moments more and perchance they would rage more vehemently than ever. But for the instant they were lulled. The "Pilgrim," meanwhile, had glided onwards, and made dead for the adjacent shore. There was a sudden shock. Caught by an enormous wave the schooner had been hurled aground; her masts had fallen, fortunately without injury to any one on board. But the vessel had parted amidships, and was foundering; the water was rushing irresistibly into the hold. The shore, however, was not half a cable's length away; there was a low, dark ridge of rocks that was united to the beach; it afforded ample means of rescue, and in less than ten minutes the "Pilgrim's" captain, crew, and passengers were all landed, with their lives, at the foot of the overhanging cliff. _ |
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