The Survivors of the Chancellor (18 page)

A couple of hours! The words sounded to our ears like
a couple of centuries. The ship might change her course
at any moment; closely trimmed as she was, it was very
probable that she was only tacking about to catch the wind,
in which case, as soon as she felt a breeze, she would résumé
her larboard tack and make away again. On the other hand,
if she was really sailing with the wind, she would come
nearer to us, and there would be good ground for hope.

Meantime, no exertion must be spared, and no means left
untried, to make our position known. The brig was about
twelve miles to the east of us, so that it was out of the question to think of any cries of ours being overheard; but Curtis
gave directions that every possible signal should be made.
We had no firearms by which we could attract attention, and
nothing else occurred to us beyond hoisting a flag of distress.
Miss Herbey's red shawl, as being of a color most distinguishable against the background of sea and sky, was run
up to the mast-head, and was caught by the light breeze that
just then was ruffling the surface of the water. As a drowning man clutches at a straw, so our hearts bounded with hope
every time that our poor flag fluttered in the wind.

For an hour our feelings alternated between hope and
despair. The ship was evidently making her way in the direction of the raft, but every now and then she seemed to
stop, and then our hearts would almost stand still with agony
lest she was going to put about. She carried all her canvas,
even to her royals and stay-sails, but her hull was only
partially visible above the horizon.

How slowly she advanced! The breeze was very, very
feeble, and perhaps soon it would drop altogether! We felt
that we would give years of our life to know the result of the
coming hour.

At half past twelve the captain and the boatswain considered that the brig was about nine miles away; she had,
therefore, gained only three miles in an hour and a half,
and it was doubtful whether the light breeze that had been
passing over our heads had reached her at all. I fancied,
too, that her sails were no longer filled, but were hanging
loose against her masts. Turning to the direction of the
wind, I tried to make out some chance of a rising breeze;
but no, the waves were calm and torpid, and the little puff of
air that had aroused our hopes had died away across the sea.

I stood aft with M. Letourneur, Andre and Miss Herbey,
and our glances perpetually wandered from the distant ship
to our captain's face. Curtis stood leaning against the mast,
with the boatswain by his side; their eyes seemed never for
a moment to cease to watch the brig, but their countenances
clearly expressed the varying emotions that passed through
their minds. Not a word was uttered, nor was the silence
broken, until the carpenter exclaimed, in accents of despair:

"She's putting about!"

All started up — some to their knees, others to their feet.
The boatswain dropped a frightful oath. The ship was
still nine miles away, and at such a distance it was impossible
for our signal to be seen; our tiny raft, a mere speck upon
the waters, would be lost in the intense irradiation of the sunbeams. If only we could be seen, no doubt all would be
well; no captain would have the barbarous inhumanity to
leave us to our fate; but there had been no chance; only too
well we knew that we had not been within range of sight.

"My friends," said Curtis, "we must make a fire; it is our
last and only chance."

Some planks were quickly loosened and thrown into a heap
upon the fore part of the raft. They were damp and
troublesome to light; but the very dampness made the smoke
more dense, and ere long a tall column of dusky fumes was
rising straight upward in the air. If darkness should come
on before the brig was completely out of view, the flames,
we hoped might still be visible. But the hours passed on;
the fire died out; and yet no signs of help.

The temper of resignation now deserted me entirely;
faith, hope, confidence — all vanished from my mind, and,
like the boatswain, I swore long and loudly. A gentle hand
was laid upon my arm, and turning round I saw Miss Herbey
with her finger pointing to the sky. I could stand it no
longer, but gliding underneath the tent I hid my face in my
hands and wept aloud.

Meanwhile the brig had altered her track, and was moving
slowly to the east. Three hours later and the keenest eye
could not have discerned her top-sails above the horizon.

JANUARY 15. — After this further shattering of our excited hopes, death alone now stares us in the face; slow and
lingering as that death may be, sooner or later it must inevitably come.

To-day some clouds that rose in the west have brought us
a few puffs of wind; and in spite of our prostration, we appreciate the moderation, slight as it is, in the temperature.
To my parched throat the air seemed a little less trying; but
it is now seven days since the boatswain took his haul of
fish, and during that period we had eaten nothing; even
Andre Letourneur finished yesterday, the last morsel of the
biscuit which his sorrowful and self-denying father had intrusted to my charge.

Jynxstrop, the negro, has broken loose from his confinement, but Curtis has taken no measures for putting him
again under restraint. It is not to be apprehended that the
miserable fellow and his accomplices, weakened as they are
by their protracted fast, will attempt to do us any mischief
now.

Some huge sharks made their appearance to-day, cleaving
the water rapidly with their great black fins. The monsters
came up close to the edge of the raft, and Flaypole, who was
leaning over, narrowly escaped having his arm snapped off
by one of them. I could not help regarding them as living
sepulchers, which ere long might swallow up our miserable
carcasses; yet, withal, I profess that my feelings were those
of fascination rather than horror.

The boatswain, who stood with clenched teeth and dilated
eye, regarded these sharks from quite another point of view.
He thought about devouring the sharks, not about the sharks
devouring him; and if he could succeed in catching one, I
doubt if one of us would reject the tough and untempting
flesh. He determined to make the attempt, and as he had
no whirl which he could fasten to his rope he set to work
to find something that might serve as a substitute. Curtis
and Dowlas were consulted, and after a short conversation,
during which they kept throwing bits of rope and spars into
the water in order to entice the sharks to remain by the raft,
Dowlas went and fetched his carpenter's tool, which is at
once a hatchet and a hammer. Of this he proposed to make
the whirl of which they were in need, under the hope that
either the sharp edge of the adze or the pointed extremity
opposite would stick firmly into the jaws of any shark that
might swallow it. The wooden handle of the hammer was
secured to the rope, which, in its turn was tightly fastened
to the raft.

With eager, almost breathless, excitement we stood watching the preparations, at the same time using every means
in our power to attract the attention of the sharks. As soon
as the whirl was ready the boatswain began to think about
bait, and, talking rapidly to himself, ransacked every corner
of the raft, as though he expected to find some dead body
coming opportunely to sight. But his search ended in nothing; and the only plan that suggested itself was again to
have recourse to Miss Herbey's red shawl, of which a fragment was wrapped around the head of the hammer. After
testing the strength of his line, and reassuring himself that
it was fastened firmly both to the hammer and to the raft,
the boatswain lowered it into the water.

The sea was quite transparent, and any object was clearly
visible to a depth of two hundred feet below the surface.
Leaning over the low parapet of the raft we looked on in
breathless silence, as the scarlet rag, distinct as it was against
the blue mass of water, made its slow descent. But one by
one the sharks seemed to disappear. They could not, however, have gone far away, and it was not likely that anything in the shape of bait dropped near them would long
escape their keen voracity.

Suddenly, without speaking, the boatswain raised his hand
and pointed to a dark mass skimming along the surface of
the water, and making straight in our direction. It was a
shark, certainly not less than twelve feet long. As soon as
the creature was about four fathoms from the raft, the
boatswain gently drew in his line until the whirl was in such
a position that the shark must cross right over it; at the
same time he shook the line a little, that he might give the
whirl the appearance, if he could, of being something alive
and moving. As the creature came near, my heart beat
violently; I could see its eyes flashing above the waves; and
its gaping jaws, as it turned half over on its back, exhibited
long rows of pointed teeth.

I know not who it was, but some one at that moment
uttered an involuntary cry of horror. The shark came to a
standstill, turned about, and escaped quite out of sight. The
boatswain was pale with anger.

"The first man who speaks," he said, "I will kill him
on the spot."

Again he applied himself to his task. The whirl was
again lowered, this time to the depth of twenty fathoms,
but for half an hour or more not a shark could be distinguished; but as the waters far below seemed somehow to
be troubled I could not help believing that some of the
brutes at least were still there.

All at once, with a violent jerk, the cord was wrested from
the boatswain's hands; firmly attached, however, as it was
to the raft, it was not lost. The bait had been seized by a
shark, and the iron had made good its hold upon the creature's flesh.

"Now, then, my lads," cried the boatswain, "haul away!"

Passengers and sailors, one and all, put forth what
strength they had to drag the rope, but so violent were the
creature's struggles that it required all our efforts (and it is
needless to say they were willing enough) to bring it to the
surface. At length, after exertions that almost exhausted
us, the water became agitated by the violent flappings of the
tail and fins; and looking down I saw the huge carcass of
the shark writhing convulsively amid waves that were
stained with blood.

"Steady! steady!" said the boatswain, as the head appeared above

The whirl had passed right through the jaw into the middle of the throat, so that no struggle on the part of the animal could possibly release it. Dowlas seized the hatchet,
ready to dispatch the brute the moment it should be landed
on the raft. A short sharp snap was heard. The shark
had closed its jaws, and bitten through the wooden handle
of the hammer. Another moment and it had turned round
and was completely gone.

A howl of despair burst from all our lips. All the labor
and the patience, all had been in vain. Dowlas made a few
more unsuccessful attempts, but as the whirl was lost, and
they had no means of replacing it, there was no further
room for hope. They did, indeed, lower some cords
twisted into running knots, but (as might have been expected) these only slipped over, without holding, the slimy
bodies of the sharks. As a last resource the boatswain
allowed his naked leg to hang over the side of the raft;
the monsters, however, were proof even against this attraction.

Reduced once again to a gloomy despondency, all turned
to their places, to await the end that can not now be long
deferred.

Just as I moved away I heard the boatswain say to
Curtis:

"Captain, when shall we draw lots?"

The captain made no reply.

JANUARY 16. — If the crew of any passing vessel had
caught sight of us as we lay still and inanimate upon our
sail-cloth, they would scarcely, at first sight, have hesitated
to pronounce us dead.

My sufferings were terrible; tongue, lips, and throat
were so parched and swollen that if food had been at hand
I question whether I could have swallowed it. So exasperated were the feelings of us all, however, that we
glanced at each other with looks as savage as though we
were about to slaughter and without delay eat up one another.

The heat was aggravated by the atmosphere being somewhat stormy. Heavy vapors gathered on the horizon, and
there was a look as if it were raining all around. Longing
eyes and gasping mouths turned involuntarily toward the
clouds, and M. Letourneur, on bended knee, was raising
his hands, as it might be in supplication to the relentless
skies.

It was eleven o'clock in the morning. I listened for distant rumblings which might announce an approaching
storm, but although the vapors had obstructed the sun's
rays, they no longer presented the appearance of being
charged with electricity. Thus our prognostications ended
in disappointment; the clouds, which in the early morning
had been marked by the distinctness of their outline, had
melted one into another and assumed an uniform dull gray
tint; in fact, we were enveloped in an ordinary fog. But
was it not still possible that this fog might turn to rain?

Happily this hope was destined to be realized; for in a
very short time, Dowlas, with a shout of delight, declared
that rain was actually coming; and sure enough, not half a
mile from the raft, the dark parallel streaks against the sky
testified that there at least rain was falling. I fancied I
could see the drops rebounding from the surface of the
water. The wind was fresh and bringing the cloud right
on toward us, yet we could not suppress our trepidation
lest it should exhaust itself before it reached us.

But no; very soon large heavy drops began to fall, and
the storm-cloud, passing over our heads, was outpouring
its contents upon us. The shower, however, was very
transient; already a bright streak of light along the horizon
marked the limit of the cloud and warned us that we must
be quick to make the most of what it had to give us. Curtis
had placed the broken barrel in the position that was most
exposed, and every sail was spread out to the fullest extent
our dimensions would allow.