The Battery and the Boiler - Robert Michael Ballantyne (an ebook reader .txt) 📗

horizon.

"But it may be not far-off after all," said Slagg, kneeling down to aid his comrade, while Stumps, by that time recovered, assisted Robin to tighten the ropes that held the pork-barrel. "With such poor light it 'ud be hard to make out a flat thing like that a-kickin' in the hollows of the seas."

"But you forget," returned Sam, "that it must be a-kickin' on the top o' the sea as well as in the hollows. Another nail--thanks. However, I don't expect to see it again."

"Well, now, I expects to see it in the mornin' not far-off," said Slagg. "Is the water-cask fast, Robin?"

"All right--and the pork too."

"And the sail. Just give it an extra shove under the ropes, Robin. We'd be badly off if we lost it."

"I don't see what good a sail can do us," said Stumps, who had now quite recovered.

"Not _as_ a sail, Stumpy," replied Slagg, whose spirit soon recovered elasticity, "though even in that way it may help us, but as a blanket we shall appreciate it before long."

Slagg was right. After the planking had been secured and the rope refastened, those unfortunates found themselves in an unenviable position. The gale had indeed abated somewhat, though the heaving of the great waves was little less tremendous, but the night had settled down into a state of pitchy darkness, so that they could barely see each other's faces, while the seas continually washed over them, obliging them to hold on to the ropes for fear of being washed away.

In such circumstances sleep was out of the question, yet they stood sorely in need of rest.

"Now we'll see what's to be done wi' the sail," said Slagg, after they had been seated some time doing nothing. "Sleep I want, an' sleep I'll have, so lend a hand, boys."

He drew out the sail with some trouble, so well had it been stuffed in, and bade the others hold and prevent it from flapping while he fastened the corners down. He did not arrange it like a tent, but spread it as flat as possible, doubling the superfluous edges inward, so that it presented little or no obstruction to the free passage of wind or water over them.

This done, they all crept underneath, and found it to be a much snugger den than they had expected, for the two casks prevented their heads from being pressed down when a few tons of water rolled over them--as occasionally happened.

Still they did not dare to sleep until each had fastened a rope round his waist and bound himself to the flooring. Having done so, each laid himself alongside of a turn of the binding-cable, and, embracing that affectionately with both arms, laid his head on the planks and shut his eyes.

Many and varied are the conditions under which healthy members of the human family seek and find repose, but we venture to think that few conditions have ever been found which were more unfavourable to sleep than that which has just been described.

Nevertheless, they were met promptly by slumber most profound, as they lay wet and weary on the little raft that disastrous night, on the dark and surging breast of the Southern Sea.


CHAPTER FIFTEEN.


LIFE ON THE RAFT.

To awake "all at sea"--in other words, ignorant of one's locality--is a rather common experience, but to awaken both at and in the sea, in a similar state of oblivion, is not so common.

It was the fortune of Robin Wright to do so on the first morning after the day of the wreck.

At first, when he opened his eyes, he fancied, from the sound of water in his ears, that it must have come on to rain very heavily, but, being regardless of rain, he tried to fall asleep again. Then he felt as if there must be a leak in his berth somewhere, he was so wet; but, being sleepy, he shut his eyes, and tried to shut his senses against moisture. Not succeeding, he resolved to turn on his other side, but experienced a strange resistance to that effort. Waxing testy, he wrenched himself round, and in so doing kicked out somewhat impatiently. This, of course, woke him up to the real state of the case. It also awoke Slagg, who received the kick on his shins. He, delivering a cry of pain straight into Sam Shipton's ear, caused that youth to fling out his fist, which fell on Stumps's nose, and thus in rapid succession were the sleepers roused effectually to a full sense of their condition.

"It's cold," remarked Stumps, with chattering teeth.

"You should be thankful that you're alive to feel the cold, you ungrateful creetur," said Slagg.

"I _am_ thankful, Jim," returned the other humbly, as he sought to undo the rope that held him fast; "but you know a feller can scarcely express thanks or--or--otherwise half asleep, an' his teeth goin' like a pair o' nut-crackers."

"The wind is evidently down," remarked Sam, who had already undone his lashings. "Here, Robin, help me to untie this corner of the sail. I had no idea that sleeping with one's side in a pool of water would make one so cold and stiff."

"If it had bin a pool, Mr Shipton," said Slagg, "it wouldn't have made you cold; 'cause why? you'd have made it warm. But it was the sea washin' out and in fresh that kep' the temperater low--d'ee see?"

"What a cargo o' rheumatiz we've been a-layin' in this night for old age," said Stumps ruefully, as he rubbed his left shoulder.

Throwing off the sail, Sam stood up and looked round, while an exclamation of surprise and pleasure broke from him. The contrast between the night and morning was more than usually striking. Not only had darkness vanished and the wind gone down, but there was a dead calm which had changed the sea into a sheet of undulating glass, and the sun had just risen, flooding the sky with rosy light, and tipping the summit of each swell with gleaming gold. The gentle, noiseless heaving of the long swell, so far from breaking the rest of nature, rather deepened it by suggesting the soft breathings of slumber. There were a few gulls floating each on its own image, as if asleep, and one great albatross soared slowly in the bright sky, as if acting the part of sentinel over the resting sea.

"How glorious!" exclaimed Robin, as, with flashing eyes, he gazed round the scarce perceptible horizon.

"How hard to believe," said Sam, in a low voice, "that we may have been brought here to die."

"But surely you do not think our case so desperate?" said Robin.

"I hope it is not, but it may be so."

"God forbid," responded Robin earnestly.

As he spoke his arm pressed the little bible which he had rescued from the wreck. Thrusting his hand into his bosom he drew it out.

"Darling mother!" he said, "when she gave me this she told me to consult it daily, but especially in times of trouble or danger. I'll look into it now, Sam."

He opened the book, and, selecting the verse that first met his eye, read: "In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them and carried them all the days of old."

"That's a grand word for us, isn't it?--from Isaiah," said Robin.

"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Sam, whose religious education had not been attended to as well as that of his friend.

"That our God is full of love, and pity, and sympathy, so that we have nothing to fear," said Robin.

"But surely you can't regard that as a message to us when you know that you turned to it by mere chance," said Sam.

"I do regard it as a special message to us," returned Robin with decision.

"And what if you had turned up an entirely unsuitable or inapplicable verse?" said Sam.

"Then I should have concluded that God had no _special_ message for us just now, but left us to that general comfort and instruction contained throughout the whole word. When, however, special comfort is sought and found, it seems to me ungrateful to refuse it."

"But I don't refuse it, Robin," returned Sam; "I merely doubt whether it is sent to us or not."

"Why, Sam, _all_ the bible was sent to us for comfort and instruction."

"True--true. I have not thought much on that subject, Robin, but I'll try to believe at present that you are right, for we stand much in need of strong hope at all events. Here we are, none of us knows how far from the nearest land, with little food and less water, on a thing that the first stiff breeze may knock to pieces, without shelter and without compass!"

"Without shelter and compass, Mr Shipton!" said Jim Slagg, who had hitherto listened in silence to the conversation; "why, what d'ye call this?" (taking hold of the sail). "Ain't that shelter enough, and won't the sun guide us by day and the stars by night. It seems to me that you are too despondin', Mr Shipton."

"Don't `mister' me any more, Slagg. It was all very well aboard ship where we had our relative positions, but now we are comrades in distress, and must be on an equal footing."

"Very good," replied Slagg, looking round in his comrades' faces, and raising his voice as if making a speech. "Bein' equal, as you say, I takes the liberty o' callin' a general meetin' o' this free and--if I may be allowed the expression--easy Republic. Moreover, I move myself into the chair and second the motion, which, nobody objectin', is carried unanimously. Gentlemen, the business of this here meetin' is to appoint a commander to this here ship, an' what could be more in accordance with the rule o' three--not to mention the rules o' four and common sense--than a Shipton takin' command. Who's goin' to make the first reslootion?"

Entering into the spirit of the thing, Robin moved that Samuel Shipton be appointed to command the ship and the party, with the title of captain.

"And without pay," suggested Slagg.

"And _I_ move," said Stumps, who was just beginning to understand the joke, though a little puzzled by the fact that it was done in earnest, "I move that Robin Wright be first leftenant."

"Brayvo, Stumps!" cried Slagg, "your intellec' _is_ growin'. It on'y remains to appoint you ship's monkey and maid-of-all-work--specially dirty work--and, then, with a hearty vote o' thanks to myself for my conduct in the chair, to vacate the same an' dissolve the meetin'."

These matters having been satisfactorily settled, the castaways proceeded to prepare breakfast, and while this was being done the recently appointed captain looked once more anxiously round in the hope of seeing the large raft with their late shipmates on it, but it was not to be seen. Neither raft, ship, nor any other sign of man wos visible on all the glittering sea.

Breakfast was not a tempting meal. The biscuits were, indeed, as good as ship's biscuits ever are, and when moistened with sea water formed a comparatively