CHAPTER X.

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ESCORTED BEYOND DANGER.—DAILY WORK ON SHIPBOARD.—WE SAVE A BOATFULL OF CASTAWAYS.—HOW WE FOUND THEM.

"We're in for it now," said the captain, "and must take our chances. We'll hug the Spanish coast pretty closely, and if they press us hard we may have to take refuge in some of the ports of Spain. It's lucky for us, there's a fairly good number of them,—Barcelona, Valencia, Alicante, Cartagena, Malaga, and several others. We will stop at Gibraltar, and perhaps we may find a British man-of-war sailing out of that port by the time we're ready to start."

Fortunately for us we didn't see a single corsair from the time we passed the Chateau d'If until we sighted the Rock of Gibraltar. Just as we came in sight of the famous rock we saw a vessel coming into the straits which had a piratical look. She steered in our direction; and we steered for safety to the spot where we had formerly anchored. We turned around Europa Point, where the Rock of Gibraltar juts into the Mediterranean, with the pirate ship not more than half a mile away from us. She had tried her best to cut us off, and would have done so if she had had fifteen minutes more to her advantage. Another vessel was in sight at a distance; and if we had attempted to run out of the straits without stopping at Gibraltar, we should have dropped directly into her jaws. Anyway, between the two of them there was little chance for our escape.

We were not as cordially received this time at Gibraltar as on our first arrival. The enthusiasm over the rescue of the Warwick and her people had somewhat abated; but this is in accordance with human nature generally, and we were not at all surprised at it. Under the circumstances, Captain Dawson decided to give liberty on shore to nobody, and to shorten the stay of the Washington in port as much as possible. He ascertained that an English frigate would sail for London in two or three days, and asked the privilege of following in her wake. The privilege was granted; and he was told to be in readiness for the signal to depart.

Early on the morning of the third day the signal for departure was hoisted on the British man-of-war. We hove anchor at once; and as there was a favoring wind we sailed out of the Bay of Gibraltar, and after passing Europa Point backed our sails, and waited for the Englishman. He took his own time for starting, and we lay there hove-to for an hour or more. Meantime, our captain had his eye on two vessels away out in the straits that looked very much like Algerines. Their movements indicated that they were "laying for" us. They probably expected, and certainly hoped, that we were going to sail through the straits unaccompanied by any escort, as there was no American war-ship at Gibraltar to give us any attention.

When the Algerine captains saw the English man-of-war coming out and heading for the straits, the Washington following close behind, they knew that their chances for business were decidedly interfered with for that day at least. The Englishman steered straight out into the Atlantic, not turning up the coast in the direction of Cadiz as we feared he might. Whether he did it out of courtesy to us, or merely to give himself a wide offing, I am unable to say; but we were all very glad he did so. The corsairs steered away to the south in the direction of the coast of Morocco; and the last we saw of them they sank beneath the horizon beyond Cape Spartel.

We sailed all day in the company of the British man-of-war,—I think her name was Grampus, but am not sure,—and when sunset came the coast was almost out of sight in the distance. Two or three merchant ships flying the English flag were in sight, or had been during the day. They were in no danger from the pirates, and of course could sail wherever they liked. At sundown our escort dipped his flag by way of saying farewell, and we dipped ours in return.

We gave some extra dips, like taking off our hats two or three times in succession, in order to thank him for his courtesy; and a great courtesy it was, in view of the strained relations existing at that time between our respective countries. I wondered, as I looked at the graceful figure of the Grampus dancing on the water, whether there were any impressed Americans serving on board of her, and perhaps looking over the rail in our direction, wishing, oh, so earnestly, that they were on board the Washington, under their own dear flag, and sailing for home.

Again and again we thanked our lucky stars that we relieved the crew of the Warwick as we did, and brought her safe to port. Our captain said, or at least Haines declared that he said it, "Charity is one of the noblest acts of which man is capable; and the best charity of all is that which receives a double reward, a high rate of salvage and protection against sea-robbers."

The Grampus and Washington steered on the same course for the greater part of the night; we could see her lights ahead of us, and noted that the distance steadily increased as the hours wore on. She had evidently cracked on all sail after bidding us good-by, having previously kept her canvas somewhat reduced in order to enable us to keep up to her. About four bells in the morning watch she turned to the northward; and at sunrise we had drawn so far apart that her hull had sunk below the horizon. By this time we were out of the area covered by the Algerine corsairs, and had nothing further to fear from them.

We had a favoring wind for several days, and took a straight course for home. Nothing worthy of note occurred for five or six days; and had it not been for a great deal of cleaning up and general overhauling of the ship we might have had an easy time of it. The captain was anxious to have his craft appear in as nice a condition as possible when it entered port and passed under the eyes of the owners. The common notion with landsmen is that when a ship leaves port on a long voyage she is in her finest condition, and comes home very much battered and bruised, and used up generally.

Now, the real fact is that unless she has some accident, or happens to come home in the dead of winter when it is impossible to do any work, she is in better condition when she reaches home than at any other time. When she sails from port her decks and sides are black and dirty from taking in cargo, her standing rigging is generally slack, there are loose ends hanging everywhere, and, as a sailor would express it, "everything is adrift."

The longer the voyage is the better is the appearance of the ship, provided she has fine weather for the last month or so of it. The best-looking vessels I've ever seen were those that had come round Cape Horn or Cape of Good Hope on their return from the other side of the world.

The captain kept us busy setting up and tarring all our standing rigging, setting the masts, ratting down or up the lower and topmast rigging, scraping the ship inside and out, decks, masts, and booms, and pounding the rust off the chains, bolts, and fastenings. The whole ship was gone over, inside and out, during our voyage. The work began the second day out from Gibraltar, and was continued almost all the time until we got back to Boston again.

On the tenth day after passing the straits the watch on deck was busy with the work of touching up the ship. I was aloft, tarring down the standing rigging near the foremast, and my position was higher up than that of any other man of the crew. I happened to look off toward the leeward and thought I saw a speck on the water; I looked again and felt sure there was a boat or something of the sort. But it was a speck, and nothing more.

I hesitated a moment as to what I should say or do; I concluded it best to call one of the officers and let him decide. So I shouted,—

"On deck there!"

"Aye, aye, there; what is it?" came to me in the voice of the first mate.

"There's something in sight away to leeward!" I answered. "I don't know what it is."

"Aye, aye," was the reply; "go on with your work."

The captain was in the cabin at the time, and the mate informed him of my report.

Immediately Captain Dawson came on deck with his glass, mounted into the foretop, and asked me where away was my discovery.

I indicated the direction, and he brought his glass to bear upon the object. He must have looked at it for nearly ten minutes, certainly for five; then, without saying a word, he descended to the deck and spoke to Mr. Stevens.

A moment later the mate shouted for all who were aloft to come down; and as soon as we reached the deck the Washington's course was changed to the direction of the little speck I had seen.

Not a word was said by the captain and mate to any of the crew as to the cause of the change of course. I told Haines and several others what I had seen, and that I thought we were about to take up a boat from a wrecked ship.

In a little while the speck became clearly visible from the deck; and as we approached it, we who had no telescopes could clearly make out that it was a boat with a rude substitute for a sail spread in the bows. We ran free, and overhauled it in a short time; and as we approached it we could see a white cloth waved in the air to assure us that some one was on board.

As we came up to the boat we hove to for it to come alongside. The people on board seemed to have considerable difficulty in maneuvering their craft, and so Mr. Johnson, our second mate, was ordered to lower one of our boats and go to the relief of the stranger. This he did promptly, and very soon the two boats were alongside, fastened to ropes that had been thrown over for their accommodation.

Mr. Johnson sent one of the men from our boat up the side of the ship to the deck, to tell the captain that the people in the strange boat were so exhausted that they would be unable to climb the rope safely, and he advised that a sling should be rigged in order to get them on board.

Immediately on learning this Captain Dawson ordered a sling to be rigged from the end of the mainyard. In ten or fifteen minutes the sling was ready, and meantime some bread and hot coffee had been lowered for the use of the unfortunate strangers. There were eight of them in the boat altogether, and as I looked over the side I could see that there were two women and a girl in the party. One of the women was middle aged, and the other young, perhaps sixteen or thereabouts. These two and the girl, who appeared to be six or seven years old, clung closely together, and I judged that the elder of the trio was the mother of the other two. Close by them was a soldierly, dignified man who seemed to be consoling and cheering them, and I concluded that he was the husband of the elder woman, and the father of the two others.

When the sling was ready the strangers were speedily hoisted on deck. The sling was made of a piece of stout canvas sewn into the shape of a chair, and with its sides held into position by means of part of a hoop from an old water-cask.

The edge of the canvas was turned over so as to make it double, and in this doubled edge three holes were pierced to receive the ends of a half-inch rope. The three small ropes were joined together about four feet above the sling and fastened to a three-quarter-inch rope that passed through a tackle at the end of the mainsail-yard. By means of this rope and tackle the chair, or sling, could be raised and lowered at will.

It was lowered into the boat and the middle-aged woman was placed in it. She hesitated at first at trusting herself to be hoisted into the air; but the man I took to be her husband urged her, and after a little demur she sat down as directed. Mr. Johnson had stepped into the boat to see that the sling was properly managed, and before the order was given to hoist away he passed a rope around the sling and its passenger, so that in case she became frightened and lost control of herself she would not be likely to fall out.

When all was ready the word was given and the men on the deck of the Washington hauled away with a will. When the sling was well above the level of our rail it was drawn in on deck by means of a line that had been fastened to it independent of the hoisting-line. As it was drawn in the sailors who had hoisted it eased away on the rope, and in less time than it takes me to tell it the fair passenger stood on the deck of our ship.

Captain Dawson approached the lady, raised his hat, and said,—

"Madam, please walk into my cabin and make yourself at home. Your friends will join you immediately as they are brought on board."

"This is Jack Crane," said Captain Dawson. Page 159.

The lady, for she was a real lady, thanked Captain Dawson for his politeness, and accepted his invitation. He accompanied her to the door of his cabin, again raised his hat to her, and returned to his place on deck near the mainmast.

A minute or so after he came back the other woman was safely hoisted on deck. Captain Dawson repeated in almost the same words the invitation to go to his cabin. The young woman thanked him, and said,—

"If you please, sir, I'll stay here until my sister comes. She will be next, I believe, so your officer said, and we two will go together."

The captain bowed, saying, "Just as you please; the cabin is at your service at any moment, and the lady who first came on board is now there."

Very speedily the little girl reached the Washington's deck, and immediately seized her sister by the hand.

"What a nice way of getting on board that is!" said the younger one; "seemed to me as though I was a bird and flying through the air; but I wouldn't like to go far that way."

"No," replied the other; "neither would I. It's very kind of the people on this ship to take so much trouble on our account." "Pardon me, but it is always a sailor's duty to aid those in distress," said Captain Dawson, who was standing so near that he could not help overhearing all that was said by the two sisters. "And what greater distress can there be than yours as we found you on the open ocean? Come, please, now you are together, and go to my cabin."

Without waiting for a reply he led the way to the entrance of the cabin followed by the young woman and girl. Then he bowed himself away as he had done in the previous instance.

The next to come on board was the man whom I took for the head of the family whose other members we had already received. My surmise was correct; he announced himself as Captain Graham of His Majesty's army, and explained that he was on his way from London to Bermuda on the ship Evelyn, Captain Woods, accompanied by his family. They were the only passengers on the ship, and, as circumstances had turned out, he was very glad that such was the case. Captain Dawson asked him if he would join his family in the cabin or remain on deck. He paused a moment, and then said he thought he would see his wife and daughters, as they might possibly need his assistance in some way.

"All right," said Captain Dawson; "I'll go with you, and show you the cabin and the accommodations that it will be possible to give you. We are not fitted up for carrying passengers," he explained, "but we will manage in some way to dispose of you."

The British officer thanked his host for his courtesy, and together they proceeded to the cabin. Captain Graham entered first, and was speedily followed by Captain Dawson, who lingered at the entrance a moment to give some directions to Mr. Stevens.

The other occupants of the strange boat that we had picked up were the captain, the second mate, and three of the crew. They were quickly landed on our deck, and as their boat was in good condition and we had room for it, it was hoisted in and saved. Then the Washington filled away on her course and left behind her the scene of the rescue of the people from the Evelyn.

Meantime, in the cabin of the Washington, Captain Dawson did everything he could to make his guests comfortable. They were weak and worn with their sufferings in the open boat, and it was with difficulty that the women and girl were able to stand. The man was more robust than they, but even he had lost a great deal of his customary strength. Fortunately for the new arrivals there were two vacant rooms in the cabin of the Washington, and one of them was large enough to accommodate three persons. The larger of these rooms was given up to Mrs. Graham and her two daughters; Captain Graham was lodged in the other of the vacant rooms, where he was shortly after joined by the captain of the Evelyn. Everything about the room was placed at the disposal of the strangers, who thanked Captain Dawson with the greatest heartiness for the kindness he was showing them.

"I am sorry I can do so little for your comfort," he replied, addressing his remark to Mrs. Graham, "as I haven't any women's clothing on board,—at least, I don't know of any. I'll turn out the contents of the slop-chest, and you can pick out whatever you like. If you can find anything that will answer your purpose, why just take it and use it."

The slop-chest was in a store-room off the cabin, and was in charge of Mr. Stevens. He was sent for to open the chest and spread out the contents upon the cabin table. When this was done both Captain Dawson and Mr. Stevens left the cabin in order to give the strangers an opportunity to select what they liked without being embarrassed by their presence.

Captain Woods of the Evelyn was temporarily consigned to the forecastle, where he arrayed himself in dry clothing which Mr. Johnson furnished him. As soon as possible a good meal of scouse, bread, and coffee was supplied to the rescued people, to which Captain Dawson added some sherry and brandy for those in the cabin, and some West India rum for the others. It is needless to say that the party sat down to their meal with excellent appetites, and ate their food with a good relish. Our captain apologized for the meagerness of the fare, but was told in reply, that the banquet was fit for a king, and no apologies were necessary.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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