A Chapter of AdventuresHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
A Chapter of Adventures
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Alexandria (Egypt) -- History -- Bombardment, 1882 -- Juvenile fiction
"Give me the helm, Tom," Tripper said; "and get those hatchways up and
cover the well, and lash the tarpaulin over it. It is bad enough here,
it will be worse when we get into broken water near the wreck." Most of
the bawleys are provided with hatches for closing the long narrow place
known as the 'well,' but it is only under quite exceptional
circumstances that they are ever used. Jack and the man got them up and
managed to fit them in their places, but getting the tarpaulin over them
was beyond their power.
"I will throw her up into the wind," Ben said. "Haul on the weather
fore-sheet as I do, and belay it with the foot of the sail just to
windward of the mast. Now rouse in the main-sheet. That is right."
Quitting the tiller as the boat lay-to to the wind, Ben lent his aid to
the other two, and in three or four minutes the tarpaulin was securely
lashed over the hatches, and the boat completely battened down.
"Now, Jack, you had best lash yourself to something or you will be swept
overboard; we shall have it a lot worse than this presently. Now, Tom,
before we get well away again get the last reef in the mainsail, then we
can haul the tack down taut again; the sail will stand much better so,
and we shall want to keep her all to windward if she is to go through
the swashway."
When all was ready the fore weather-sheet was let go, and the lee-sheet
hauled taut. The main-sheet was slacked off a little and the _Bessy_
proceeded on her way. It was a terrible half-hour; fortunately the dense
heavy clouds had broken a little, and it was lighter than it had been,
but this only rendered the danger more distinct. Once in the swashway,
which is the name given to a narrow channel between the sands, the waves
were less high. But on either hand they were breaking wildly, for there
were still but four or five feet of water over the sands. The sea was
nearly abeam now, and several times Jack almost held his breath as the
waves lifted the _Bessy_ bodily to leeward and threatened to cast her
into the breaking waters but a few fathoms away. But the skipper knew
his boat well and humoured her through the waves, taking advantage of
every squall to eat up a little to windward, but always keeping her
sails full and plenty of way on her. At last they were through the
swashway; and though the sea was again heavier, and the waves frequently
swept over the decks, Jack gave a sigh of relief. They could make out
the hull of the vessel now looming up black over the white surf that
surrounded it. She had ceased firing, either from the powder being
wetted or her guns disabled.
"Which way had we better get at her, Tom?" Ben Tripper asked. "She is
pretty near on the top of the sand."
"The only way we have a chance of helping her is by laying-to, or
anchoring on the edge of the sand to leeward of her. They may be able to
drift a line down to us. I do not see any other way. Our anchors
wouldn't hold to windward of her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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