Blown to Bits - Robert Michael Ballantyne (rainbow fish read aloud TXT) 📗

a ghastly sheen over the ship and crew, for the profound darkness had again settled down, owing, no doubt, to another choking of the Krakatoa vent.

Before the light referred to went out, Moses was struck violently on the chest by something soft, which caused him to stagger.

It was Spinkie! In the midst of the unusual horrors that surrounded him, while clinging to the unfamiliar mizzen shrouds on which in desperation the poor monkey had found a temporary refuge, the electric fire showed him the dark figure of his old familiar friend standing not far off. With a shriek of not quite hopeless despair, and an inconceivable bound, Spinkie launched himself into space. His early training in the forest stood him in good stead at that crisis! As already said he hit the mark fairly, and clung to Moses with a tenacity that was born of mingled love and desperation. Finding that nothing short of cruelty would unfix his little friend, Moses stuffed him inside the breast of his cotton shirt. In this haven of rest the monkey heaved a sigh of profound contentment, folded his hands on his bosom, and meekly went to sleep.

Two of the excessively violent paroxysms of the volcano, above referred to, had by that time taken place, but the third, and worst--that which occurred about 10 A.M.--was yet in store for them, though they knew it not, and a lull in the roar, accompanied by thicker darkness than ever, was its precursor. There was not, however, any lull in the violence of the wind.

"I don't like these lulls," said Captain Roy to the hermit, as they stood close to the binnacle, in the feeble light of its lamp. "What is that striking against our sides, Mr. Moor?"

"Looks like floating pumice, sir," answered the second mate, "and I think I see palm-trees amongst it."

"Ay, I thought so, we must be close to land," said the captain. "We can't be far from Anjer, and I fear the big waves that have already passed us have done some damage. Lower a lantern over the side,--no, fetch an empty tar-barrel and let's have a flare. That will enable us to see things better."

While the barrel was being fastened to a spar so as to be thrust well out beyond the side of the brig, Van der Kemp descended the companion and opened the cabin door.

"Come up now, Winnie, darling."

"Yes, father," was the reply, as the poor girl, who had been anxiously awaiting the summons, glided out and clasped her father's arm with both hands. "Are things quieting down?"

"They are, a little. It may be temporary, but--Our Father directs it all."

"True, father. I'm _so_ glad of that!"

"Mind the step, we shall have more light on deck. There is a friend there who has just told me he met you on the Cocos-Keeling Island, Nigel Roy;--you start, Winnie?"

"Y--yes, father. I am _so_ surprised, for it is _his_ father who sails this ship! And I cannot imagine how he or you came on board."

"Well, I was going to say that I believe it is partly through Nigel that you and I have been brought together, but there is mystery about it that I don't yet understand; much has to be explained, and this assuredly is not the time or place. Here, Nigel, is your old Keeling friend."

"Ay--friend! humph!" said old Roy softly to himself.

"My _dear_--child!" said young Roy, paternally, to the girl as he grasped her hand. "I cannot tell you how thankful I am that this has been brought about, and--and that _I_ have had some little hand in it."

"There's more than pumice floating about in the sea, sir," said Mr. Moor, coming aft at the moment and speaking to the captain in a low tone. "You'd better send the young lady below--or get some one to take up her attention just now."

"Here, Nigel. Sit down under the lee of the companion, an' tell Kathy how this all came about," said the captain, promptly, as if issuing nautical orders. "I want you here, Van der Kemp."

So saying, the captain, followed by the hermit, went with the second mate to the place where the flaming tar-barrel was casting a lurid glare upon the troubled sea.


CHAPTER XXVII.


"BLOWN TO BITS."

The sight that met their eyes was well calculated to shock and sadden men of much less tender feeling than Van der Kemp and Captain Roy.

The water had assumed an appearance of inky blackness, and large masses of pumice were floating past, among which were numerous dead bodies of men, women, and children, intermingled with riven trees, fences, and other wreckage from the land, showing that the two great waves which had already passed under the vessel had caused terrible devastation on some parts of the shore. To add to the horror of the scene large sea-snakes were seen swimming wildly about, as if seeking to escape from the novel dangers that surrounded them.

The sailors looked on in awe-stricken silence for some time.

"P'raps some of 'em may be alive yet!" whispered one. "Couldn't we lower a boat?"

"Impossible in such a sea," said the captain, who overheard the remark. "Besides, no life could exist there."

"Captain Roy," said Van der Kemp earnestly, "let me advise you to get your foresail ready to hoist at a moment's notice, and let them stand by to cut the cable."

"Why so? There seems no need at present for such strong measures."

"You don't understand volcanoes as I do," returned the hermit. "This lull will only last until the imprisoned fires overcome the block in the crater, and the longer it lasts the worse will be the explosion. From my knowledge of the coast I feel sure that we are close to the town of Anjer. If another wave like the last comes while we are here, it will not slip under your brig like the last one. It will tear her from her anchor and hurl us all to destruction. You have but one chance; that is, to cut the cable and run in on the top of it--a poor chance at the best, but if God wills, we shall escape."

"If we are indeed as near shore as you think," said the captain, "I know what you say must be true, for in shoal water such a wave will surely carry all before it. But are you certain there will be another explosion?"

"No man can be sure of that. If the last explosion emptied the crater there will be no more. If it did not, another explosion is certain. All I advise is that you should be ready for whatever is coming, and ready to take your only chance."

"Right you are, sir. Send men to be ready to cut the cable, Mr. Moor. And stand by the topsail halyards."

"Ay, ay, sir."

During the anxious minutes that followed, the hermit rejoined Winnie and Nigel on the quarter-deck, and conversed with the latter in a low voice, while he drew the former to his side with his strong arm. Captain Roy himself grasped the wheel and the men stood at their various stations ready for action.

"Let no man act without orders, whatever happens," said the captain in a deep powerful voice which was heard over the whole ship, for the lull that we have mentioned extended in some degree to the gale as well as to the volcano. Every one felt that some catastrophe was pending.

"Winnie, darling," said the hermit tenderly, as he bent down to see the sweet face that had been restored to him. "I greatly fear that there is sure to be another explosion, and it may be His will that we shall perish, but comfort yourself with the certainty that no hair of your dear head can fall without His permission--and in any event He will not fail us."

"I know it, father. I have no fear--at least, only a little!"

"Nigel," said the hermit, "stick close to us if you can. It may be that, if anything should befall me, your strong arm may succour Winnie; mine has lost somewhat of its vigour," he whispered.

"Trust me--nothing but death shall sunder us," said the anxious youth in a burst of enthusiasm.

It seemed as if death were indeed to be the immediate portion of all on board the _Sunshine_, for a few minutes later there came a crash, followed by a spout of smoke, fire, steam, and molten lava, compared to which all that had gone before seemed insignificant!

The crash was indescribable! As we have said elsewhere, the sound of it was heard many hundreds of miles from the seat of the volcano, and its effects were seen and felt right round the world.

The numerous vents which had previously been noticed on Krakatoa must at that moment have been blown into one, and the original crater of the old volcano--said to have been about six miles in diameter--must have resumed its destructive work. All the eye-witnesses who were near the spot at the time, and sufficiently calm to take note of the terrific events of that morning, are agreed as to the splendour of the electrical phenomena displayed during this paroxysmal outburst. One who, at the time, was forty miles distant speaks of the great vapour-cloud looking "like an immense wall or blood-red curtain with edges of all shades of yellow, and bursts of forked lightning at times rushing like large serpents through the air." Another says that "Krakatoa appeared to be alight with flickering flames rising behind a dense black cloud." A third recorded that "the lightning struck the mainmast conductor five or six times," and that "the mud-rain which covered the decks was phosphorescent, while the rigging presented the appearance of St. Elmo's fire."

It may be remarked here, in passing, that giant steam-jets rushing through the orifices of the earth's crust constitute an enormous hydro-electric engine; and the friction of ejected materials striking against each other in ascending and descending also generates electricity, which accounts to some extent for the electrical condition of the atmosphere.

In these final and stupendous outbursts the volcano was expending its remaining force in breaking up and ejecting the solid lava which constituted its framework, and not in merely vomiting forth the lava-froth, or pumice, which had characterised the earlier stages of the eruption. In point of fact--as was afterwards clearly ascertained by careful soundings and estimates, taking the average height of the missing portion at 700 feet above water, and the depth at 300 feet below it--two-thirds of the island were blown entirely off the face of the earth. The mass had covered an area of nearly six miles, and is estimated as being equal to 1-1/8 cubic miles of solid matter which, as Moses expressed it, was blown to bits!

If this had been all, it would have been enough to claim the attention and excite the wonder of the intelligent world--but this was not nearly all, as we shall see, for saddest of all the incidents connected with the eruption is the fact that upwards of thirty-six thousand human beings lost their lives. The manner in which that terrible loss occurred shall be shown by the future adventures of the _Sunshine_.


CHAPTER XXVIII.


THE FATE OF THE "SUNSHINE."

Stunned at first, for a few minutes, by the extreme violence of the explosion, no one on board the _Sunshine_ spoke, though each man stood at his post ready to act.

"Strange," said the captain at last. "There seems