Sailors -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
The captain and officers all took their spell, but none worked harder
than he, and yet none trusted more firmly to the only arm which could
save them. Higher and higher rose the water in the hold. Fearfully the
ship laboured. Still most of the crew worked bravely at the pumps. All
hopes of saving the ship had been abandoned, but yet they trusted that
they might keep her afloat till the storm should subside. Vain even
that hope. Some in their despair and folly rushed to the spirit casks.
"She is sinking--she is sinking," was the cry.
The officers and Jack, with those who had kept firm at their posts,
leaped into the boat, the lashings were cut loose, some provisions and
water had already been put into her. The oars were got out. The brig
made a plunge forward into a mountain sea. She never rose again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
The buoyant boat, though half filled with water, floated on the crest of
a wave. Vainly the skulkers from duty, the mad drunkards shrieked for
help. None could be given them. In another moment their cries were
silenced in death. The boat and those in her were all that remained of
the _Hope_. By constant baling, and by keeping her head to the seas,
she with difficulty floated: still she lived. The fury of the tempest
began to abate. Jack told his companions how, under similar though
still worse circumstances, he had once in the South Atlantic been
mercifully preserved, and his account kept up their spirits. Did Jack
preach to them, as some would call it? No. He spoke the simple honest
truth as it came swelling up pure from his grateful heart, the
convictions of his mind, and he would have been very much surprised if
any body had told him that he was acting the parson. He would have
asked in what the likeness lay, and would have been sorely puzzled to
discover it. The boat drove on before the remnant of the gale. She was
still many hundred miles from any land. The captain resolved to steer
for the Cape of Good Hope. Many were the hardships they might expect to
encounter before they could reach it. Still they kept up their spirits.
They had provisions for many days. They agreed to husband them to the
utmost. They told tales to each other; some were true, their own
adventures, and those of old companions; others were mere fiction. They
recited poetry. They even sang songs, though their voices sounded
strangely in the wild waste of waters in which they floated.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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