Chapter 9. "When The Raging Seas Do Roar"

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_ CHAPTER NINE. "WHEN THE RAGING SEAS DO ROAR"

Jack Meadows started up in his berth with a great fear upon him, and he started down again with the great fear turned for the moment into a great pain, caused by his having struck his forehead sharply, for about the tenth time, against the top of his berth.

"Am I never going to recollect what a miserable, narrow, boxed-up place it is," he said to himself angrily.

Then the fear came back, and he rolled out feeling confused and horrified.

He had turned in over-night without undressing, further than taking off jacket, waistcoat, and boots, so that he was almost dressed, for he had lain down in terror to rest himself so as to be quite ready if an alarm was given that the yacht was sinking; and he knew now that he must have been asleep, for it was early morning by the pale grey light which stole in through the glass. The weather seemed to be worse, the yacht pitching and tossing, and there was a dull, creaking, horrible sound which kept on, but was smothered out at intervals by a tremendous bump, which was always followed by a sound as if the vessel had sailed up the rapids of Niagara river and then beneath the falls.

The confusion increased with the noise, and, holding on with one hand, Jack pressed the other to his forehead as he stared straight before him at a big tin box which appeared to his sleep-muddled brain to be walking about the saloon table, when he opened the tiny state-room door.

Yes, there was no mistake about it; that box was alive, just as frightened as he was by the fearful storm, and was trying to escape, for all of a sudden, after edging its way to the end of the table, it made a bound, leaped to the floor, and began to creep and jump toward the door at the foot of the cabin stairs.

"What did it all mean?" thought Jack, and he tried hard to collect himself. Yes, they came on board three or four days before, he was not sure which. He remembered that. He had been frightfully ill, and oh, so sick. He remembered that too. Then he recalled about preparing for the worst last night, when the storm increased, and thinking as he lay down in his berth, weak as a baby, that it was very grand to be able to act as his father and Doctor Instow did, for they were perfectly resigned, and he had seen them sitting down playing a game of chess with a board full of holes into which the chess-men stuck like pegs.

Then in full force his brain seemed to assert itself. The worst had come, and it was his duty to awaken his father and Doctor Instow, so that they might all save themselves by taking to one of the boats or a raft.

_Boomp! Splash. U-r-r-r-r_!

A wave striking the yacht's bows--the water deluging the deck.

A spasm of fear shot through him, and he made a dash to catch up his yachting cap and pea-jacket with gilt anchor buttons which he had had on the previous night; but as soon as he quitted his hold, he was literally at sea, and the floor of his little state-room rising up, he seemed to be pitched head-first into his berth as if diving, but he managed to save himself from injury, and dropped on to the floor, crawled to his jacket, slipped it on, and then out into the saloon, to see that the tin box--one which the doctor had had brought on board full of necessaries for their fishing and collecting trips--had reached the saloon door, but could get no further.

But what was a box to a man? Jack crept to his father's door, beat upon it, and then dragged it open to find the berth empty.

"Gone and left me," groaned the lad in his misery and despair. "How horrible! No; he is making a raft, and will come and fetch me soon.-- Oh!"

He clutched at the door to save himself, for the yacht suddenly made a dive, and he felt that they were going down into the vast depths of the sea; but he did not save himself, for the door played him false and helped to shoot him right across the saloon, and he was brought up by the door of the doctor's tiny room.

Recovering himself he desperately clutched at the handle, dragged the door open, and as the yacht prepared for another dive, he shot in against the berth, punching its occupant heavily in the ribs, and snatching at the clothes as he held on.

The doctor uttered a deep grunt, but did not stir. "Doctor! doctor!" panted Jack. "Wake up! Quick! We're sinking."

"Eh? All right!" came in a deep muffled voice. "Oh, wake up, wake up!" cried Jack. "I can't leave him to drown. Doctor! doctor!"

"All right!" came fiercely, as Jack seized the sleeper by the shoulders. "Tell 'em--only jus' come abed."

"Doctor! doctor!"

"Tell 'em--give--warm bath--mustard."

"But we're sinking," cried Jack wildly. "Eh? Whose baby is it? What's matter--Jack? Taken ill?"

"No, no. Quick! Come on deck."

"Just won't," growled the doctor; and he turned his back and uttered a deep snore.

Jack stared in horror, and then dropped on all fours to crawl to the foot of the cabin stairs, and fetch help to drag the drowning man on deck, being fully imbued with the idea that Doctor Instow had taken some drug in his despair, so that he might be unconscious when the yacht went down.

In passing he saw that the captain's and the mate's berths were both empty, and, how he knew not, he crawled up the cabin stairs, looked on deck, and saw that his father was standing by the weather bulwark, and the captain close by.

There was the man at the wheel, and a couple more forward in shiny yellow tarpaulins; and as he gazed at them wildly, there was a thud and a beautiful curve over of a wave which deluged the deck and splashed the two men, but they did not stir.

He saw no more then, for the yacht careened over from the pressure on the three great sails, and it seemed to the lad that the next moment they would be lying flat upon the water, so he clung to the hatchway fittings for dear life. But the next moment the _Silver Star_ rose from the wave in front, and literally rushed on, quivering from stem to stern like a live creature, the waves parting and hissing to form an ever-widening path of foam astern.

Jack caught the full fresh breeze in his teeth as he struggled on deck, and breathlessly staggered to the side, looking as if he were going to leap overboard; then clinging to the rail, he crept hand-over-hand to where his father now stood with the captain.

"That you, Jack?" cried Sir John. "Good-morning. Well done! Come, this is brave."

"Splendid!" cried Captain Bradleigh. "Why you have soon come round."

Jack woke fully to the fact now that it was a false alarm, and strove hard to get rid of the scared look with which he had come on deck for help to drag Doctor Instow up. But still he was not quite assured, for he started suddenly as, _plosh_! there came another rush of water over the bows. "What's that?" he cried.

"Sea having a game with the yacht," said the captain merrily. "Splashing her nose. Look how she rises and glides over that wave. Regular racer, isn't she?"

"Yes, going so fast," panted Jack breathlessly. "But--but is there no danger--of her sinking?"

"Just about as much as there would be of a well-corked-up bottle, my lad. The more you pushed her under, the more she'd bob up again. Oh no, she won't sink."

"I'm glad you came up," said Sir John. "This breeze is glorious, and I never saw the sea more beautiful; look how the waves glisten where the moon falls upon them on one side, and how they catch the soft pearly light from the east on the other. It is a lovely effect."

"Yes, father, very beautiful," said the boy sadly. "Are we far from land, Captain Bradleigh?"

"Yes, and getting farther every minute. Don't want any steam with this breeze. If it holds, we shall regularly race across the bay."

"Bay?" said Jack, feeling that he must say something to keep them from seeing how nervous he was. "Mount's Bay?"

"Mount's Bay?" said the captain, smiling, "No; the Bay of Biscay. We passed Mount's Bay three days ago, while you were lying so poorly in your berth. Oh, that's nothing to mind," he added quickly. "I was horribly bad for a week in smoother water than you've had; you've done wonders to get over it so soon."

"Yes, you've done well, Jack," said Sir John, who looked gratified by the way in which his son was behaving. "Mind! keep tight hold of the rail."

For just then the yacht made a dive, rose, shook herself, and then, after seeming to hang poised on the summit of a green hillock, she started again with a leap.

"Yes; better hold tight till you feel more at home. One easily gets a heavy fall and bruises at first. But you'll soon find your sea-legs, and give and swing with the vessel just as if you belonged to her."

"Why didn't you bring the doctor up?" said Sir John; "he is losing a glorious sight."

"I tried hard to wake him," replied the lad, "but he was too sleepy."

"Yes; he likes his morning sleep," said Sir John.

The captain walked forward to speak to the two men of the watch, and an intense longing came over the boy to undeceive his father, who had not grasped the true reason of his appearance on the deck. But try hard as he would, shame kept him silent, and he began to give way again to the nervousness which oppressed him.

"Don't you think," he began; but his father checked him.

"Look--look--Jack!" he said; and he pointed to something about a quarter of a mile away.

For a few moments, as it appeared and disappeared, the lad could not catch sight of it; but at last he did.

"A serpent--a huge serpent," he cried. "Is it coming this way?"

"It, or rather they are not coming in this direction, but going on the same chase, my boy. No, it is not a serpent; serpents do not travel up and down in that fashion, though some people think they do, but undulate their bodies right and left."

"But look, father," cried Jack, forgetting his nervousness in the interest of what he saw. "It must be a great snake, you can make out its folds as it goes along."

"No, you look--take a good long look, and don't come on deck again without your binocular. That is a little shoal of seven or eight porpoises. They follow one another like that, and keep on with that rising and falling manner, coming up to breathe, and curling over as they dive down again. They do strangely resemble a great snake."

"But breathe, father?" said Jack; "fish breathe?"

"Those are not classed as fish, my lad. They cannot exist without coming up to get air. A fish finds enough in the water which passes over its gills."

"Yes, I've read that," said Jack; "but I had forgotten."

"Well, gentlemen, looking at the porpoises?" said the captain, coming up behind them. "Nice little school of them. They always go along like that. I used to think when I first saw them that they were like a troop of boys running along and leaping posts. They're after a shoal of fish; mackerel perhaps. Well, Sir John, how do you think the yacht runs with this breeze?"

"Splendidly," said Sir John.

"Breeze! Splendidly!" said Jack to himself, as he tried to restrain a shudder, for the breeze had seemed to him a storm.

"Well, sir, she's good on every tack. I can do anything with her; I never felt a boat answer the helm as she does. But I like to hear you talk about it; I feel a sort of vanity about her, seeing she is like a child of mine, and I want to be quite convinced that you are satisfied with your hasty bargain."

"Once for all then, Captain Bradleigh, be satisfied on that point; for I feel myself most fortunate," said Sir John.

"Thank you, sir, thank you!" cried the captain warmly. "That will do then; I will not refer to it again. By the way, Mr Jack, now you are getting your sea-legs, you will have to begin your education."

"My education?" said the lad, staring. "Yes, sir; you must not go on a two or three years' cruise without making a thorough sailor of yourself, so as soon as you feel yourself fit, I'm ready to teach you to box the compass, and a little navigation."

"Oh, thank you," said Jack coldly, and the tips of his horns, that, snail-like, were beginning to show signs of coming out, disappeared.

The captain gave Sir John a meaning look, and went on.

"You gentlemen will find Bartlett a capital fellow, and very useful. He's quite at home over all kinds of sea-fishing, and you had better begin to give him a hint, Mr Jack, that you'll want a good deal of his help. Capital knowledge of sea-fish; not book knowledge, but practical. It's of no use now with the yacht going at this rate, but when we get into calmer waters."

"Shall we soon get into calmer water?" said Jack anxiously.

"Oh yes. We're going due south now, and shan't be long first. I dare say by the time we have passed Cape Finisterre, and are running down the Spanish coast, you will find it smooth enough. Like an early cup of tea, gentlemen?"

"I? No," said Sir John, "I'll wait for breakfast. What do you say, Jack?"

Jack said nothing, but looked disgusted.

"Don't like the idea of taking anything of course, sir," said the captain; "but wait a little, I'm quite a doctor over these troubles, and I'll give you some good news."

"I'm sure he will be grateful for it," said Sir John, for Jack was silent.

"Here it is then," said the captain bluffly; "and you may believe it, for I know. You've had a sharp little spell since we left port; but it's over now, and, as we say, you're quite well, thank you."

"I quite well?" cried the lad indignantly; "I feel wretchedly bad."

"And think me very unfeeling for talking to you like this," said the captain, smiling; "but I'm nothing of the kind. Of course you feel wretchedly ill. Faint and weak, and as if you could never touch food again. That's why I wanted you to let the steward bring you a cup of tea. Human nature can't go without food for three or four days without feeling bad."

"Of course not," said Sir John.

"But now look here, Mr Jack, I talked about good news, and told you that you were well now. Here's the proof. There's a nice stiff breeze on, the water's very lively, and the yacht's dancing about so that we shall have to mind how we handle our breakfast-cups; and look at you! You are holding on because you haven't learned to give and take with the springs in your legs, but you are taking it all quite calmly. Why, the other day as soon as we began to careen over a bit, the doctor had to take you below. Now do you see the difference?"

"No," said Jack. "You cannot tell how ill I feel."

"My dear lad, I know exactly," said the captain. "Come, pluck up your courage; we're going to have a glorious day, and the wind will drop before noon. Take my advice: go below to have a good tubbing, and dress yourself again, and by breakfast-time you'll be beginning to wonder that you should have felt so queer; and mind this, sea-sickness isn't a disease: it's a--well, it's a--Ah, here's the doctor. Morning, Doctor Instow, you're just in time. What is sea-sickness?"

"A precious nuisance for those who are troubled with it," said the doctor heartily. "Morning. Morning, Meadows. Why, Jack, lad, this is grand. You've quite stolen a march on me. I say, you mean you're over your bit of misery then. My word, what a jolly morning. Hullo! going below?"

"Yes," said Jack quietly, as he began to move toward the cabin hatch.

"Take my arm, Mr Jack," said the captain kindly.

"No, thank you," said the lad. "I want to get to be able to balance."

Sir John said nothing, but stood with the others watching the lad's unsteady steps till he disappeared.

"He'll do now, sir," said the captain.

"Do?" cried the doctor; "I should think he will. Why, Meadows, he has got all the right stuff in him: it only wants bringing out. Nothing like the sea for a lad, is there, captain?"

"Nothing, sir," said that gentleman. "It makes a boy manly and self-reliant. He may turn out a bit rough, but it's rough diamond. Sir John, pray don't you think from what I say that I'm one of those carneying, flattering sort of chaps who ought to be kicked all round the world for the sneaks they are. What I say is quite honest. That's a fine lad of yours: he's as nervous now as a girl, and no wonder, seeing how weak and delicate he is, but I watched him this morning, and he's fighting it all down like a fellow with true grit in him, at a time too when he's feeling downright bad. You won't hardly know him in a month."

Sir John nodded and walked away, to go and stand by himself looking out to sea.

"Whew!" whistled the captain, turning to the doctor. "I hope I haven't offended our chief."

"Offended him? no," said the doctor, taking his arm and walking him off in the other direction. "It's all right, captain. You spoke out the truth, and he'll tell you before the day's out that he is obliged. Poor fellow! he is very tender-hearted about his boy. Lost the lad's mother, you see, and he worships him. But you're quite right, my plan's good, and I shall bring him back a healthy man."

"You shall, doctor, for we'll all try and help you; there!" _

Read next: Chapter 10. Jack Begins To Come Round

Read previous: Chapter 8. Ned Feels The Motion Of The Vessel

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