Hair-Breadth Escapes: The Adventures of Three Boys in South Africa. Adams Henry Cadwallader
a doubt,” assented Frank. “So my uncle surrendered?”
“Yes, sir, he did, but he didn’t like it. I must say, from what I’ve heard of these fellows, I judged that they’d have thrown us all in to the sea without mercy. But it seems White and O’Hara and the rest wouldn’t allow that, and insisted on it that every one, who chose it, should be allowed to leave the ship. I did ’em injustice, I must say.”
“What did they go in?” inquired Wilmore, a good deal surprised.
“In the two biggest of the ship’s boats, sir. You see we’ve been driven a long way south by that gale, and are not more than a few hundred miles from Ascension. They’ll make for that, and with this wind they’ve a good chance of getting there in three or four days.”
“Are all the officers and passengers gone?” asked Warley.
“Well, no, sir. Mr Lavie ain’t gone. The men stopped him as he was stepping into the boat, and declared he shouldn’t leave the ship. But all the rest is gone – no one’s left except those who’ve joined the mutineers, unless it’s poor old Lion, who’s still tied up in the fo’castle.”
“Why, you haven’t joined them, Jennings, to be sure?”
“I! no, sir; but with my leg I couldn’t have gone aboard the boats; and to be sure, I hadn’t the chance, for I fainted dead off as soon as I’d reached my berth, and didn’t come to till after they was gone. And there’s my nevvy too – he wouldn’t go, but chose to stay behind and nurse me. I hadn’t the heart to scold the lad for it.”
“Scold him! I should think not,” observed Warley.
“Well, sir, it may get him into trouble if he’s caught aboard this ship, and I expect he’ll get into troubles with these pirates too. But there’s no use fretting about what can’t be helped. I’m thinking about you young gents. You see if I’d been in my right senses when they went away, I should have told the cap’en about you, and he’d have taken you away with him. But I wasn’t sensible like, and no one else then knew as you was aboard.”
“No one knew it then?” repeated Warley. “No one knows it now, I suppose.”
“Yes, sir, Mr Lavie knows it, and Joe too; I told them an hour ago, and we had a long talk about it. The doctor’s resolved he won’t stay in the ship, and I suppose you don’t want to stay neither?”
“We stay, Tom!” replied Frank. “No, I should think not indeed, if we can help it. But how are we to get away?”
“This way, sir. These pirates have been choosing their officers to-day, and they’ve made O’Hara captain. They say he’s the only man who’s up to navigating the ship. Anyhow, they’ve made him captain, and one of the foreign chaps, first mate. They’re to have a great supper to-morrow night in honour of ’em, and most of the crew – pretty nigh all I should say – will be drunk. Well, then, we claps a lot of things, that Mr Lavie has got together, aboard one of the boats – there are enough of us to lower her easy enough – and long before daylight you’ll be out of sight.”
“You’ll be out of sight. Don’t you mean to go yourself, Jennings?” asked Frank.
“My leg won’t let me, Mr Frank. I couldn’t get down the ship’s side; and besides, I ain’t in no danger. My old messmates won’t let me be hurt, nor Joe Cobbes neither. I’d best stay here till my leg’s right. Mr Lavie says it wants nothing but rest, and a little washing now and then. No, sir; Joe and I would rather stay on board here and take the first opportunity of leaving the ship that offers. Mr Lavie and you all ’ull bear witness how it happened.”
“That we will, Tom,” said Warley. “Well, then, if I understand you, we’ve nothing to do but to remain quiet until to-morrow night, and you and Mr Lavie will make all the preparations?”
“Yes, sir, that’s right. Stay quietly here till you’ve notice that everything’s ready.”
“But I don’t like you having all the risk and trouble, Tom,” said Wilmore.
“You’d do as much for me, sir, and more too, I dare say, if you had the chance. Besides, I am anxious you should get away safe, because you’re my witnesses that I and Joe had no hand in this. I shall get well all the sooner, when you’re gone.”
“All right, Jennings,” said Warley. “And now I suppose you want to get out of this again?”
“Yes, sir; you must help me. Getting out will be worse than getting in, I am afraid.”
The lantern was extinguished, the keg removed, and with much pain and difficulty the old man was helped out. The next twenty-four hours were passed in the utmost anxiety by the three lads, who would hardly allow themselves even to whisper to one another, for fear of being overheard by the pirates. All the morning they could hear the preparations for the feast going on. Some casks in the lower deck, which, as they knew, contained some unusually fine wine, were broken open, and the bottles carried on deck. Planks also were handed up to make tables and benches. From the conversation of the men employed in the work, they learned that the feast was to take place in the forecastle, none of the cabins being large enough to hold the entire party. Once they caught a mention of Mr Lavie’s name, and learned that he had been all night in attendance on Amos Wood, the sailor who had been attacked by fever at Porto Prayo, and that the man had died that morning, and been thrown overboard. The doctor, it was said, had now turned in for a long sleep. The boys guessed that his day would be differently employed. About six o’clock in the evening, everything seemed to be in readiness. The tramp of feet above was heard as the men took their places at table, and was followed by the rattling of plates and knives and forks, and the oaths and noisy laughter of the revellers. These grew more vociferous as the evening passed on, and after an hour or two the uproar was heightened by the crash of glass, and the frequent outbreak of quarrels among the guests, which were with difficulty suppressed by their more sober comrades. Then benches were overturned, and the noise of bodies falling on the deck was heard, as man after man became stupidly intoxicated. The uproar gradually died out, until nothing was audible, but drunken snores, or the unsteady steps of some few of the sailors, who were supposed to be keeping watch.
It was about two hours after midnight when the expected summons came. Frank crept out first, followed by Nick and Ernest. They found Mr Lavie and Joe Cobbes waiting for them.
“Everything is ready, Ernest,” whispered the doctor. “We’ve put as many provisions and arms into the jolly-boat as we can safely carry; but you had better take a brace of pistols apiece. There are some one or two of the men who are the worse for drink, but still sober enough to know what they are doing, and we may have a tussle. Put on these caps and jackets, and come as quick as you can. The jolly-boat is on the starboard side, near the stern. She’s not in the water yet, but everything is ready for lowering her. Quiet’s the word.”
The boys obeyed. They crept cautiously on deck, pulling the caps over their foreheads, and imitating as well as they could the movements of drunken men. They soon reached the jolly-boat, where old Jennings was waiting for them. The helm had been lashed, but every ten minutes or so one of the watch came aft to see that all was right. Jennings had unfastened the lashings and taken the rudder, telling the first man who came up that he would see to it for the rest of the watch. The man willingly enough accepted his services, and this skilful manoeuvre saved them for the time from further interruption.
“Lower quickly, Mr Lavie,” he whispered in the doctor’s ear. “Andy Duncan has had liquor enough to make half a dozen men drunk, but he knows what he’s doing for all that. He’s keeping an eye on the ship, and may be down upon us any minute.”
He was obeyed promptly and in silence. The boat was lowered without attracting notice. Warley was the first to slip down the rope, and was safely followed by Nick. Frank was just climbing over the bulwark when a man staggered up, and accused them with a volley of drunken oaths of intending to desert.
“No, no, Andy,” said Jennings quickly, “no one means to desert. There’s a man overboard, and we’re lowering a boat to pick him up. Make haste, my lad,” he continued, addressing Wilmore,