Adventure stories; Islands of the Pacific -- Fiction; Ship captains -- Fiction
Well, it was the third day of May, at four bells in the first dog
watch, when Harry Doe, the boatswain, sighted land on the port-bow, and
came abaft with the other hands to hear what I had got to say to him.
Mr. Jacob was in his bunk then, he being about to take the first watch,
and Peter Bligh, who walked the bridge, had rung down for half-speed by
the time I came out with my glass for the first view of the distant
island. We were then, I must tell you at a rough reckoning, in
longitude 150 east of Greenwich, by about 30 north; and my first
thought was that we might have sighted the Ganges group, as many a ship
sailing from 'Frisco to Japan; but when I had looked at the land a
little while, and especially at a low spur of rocks to the northward, I
knew that this was truly the Ken Archipelago, and that our voyage was
done.
"Lads," I said, "yonder is your port. Good weather and good luck, and
we'll put about for home before three days have passed."
Now, they set up a great cheer at this; and Peter Bligh, whose years go
to fat, wiped his brow like a man who has got rid of a great load and
is very pleased to have done with it.
"Thank you for that," said he. "I hope I do my duty in all weathers,
Mr. Begg, but this sunshine do wear a man sadly. Will you stop her,
sir, or shall we go dead slow?"
"Dead slow, if you please, Mister Pugh," said I; "the chart gives two
thousand fathoms about the reef. We should have water enough, and water
is a good thing, as I believe you know."
"When there's nothing else, I can manage to make shift with it--and
feel a better man, sir," he added, as an after-thought. But I was
already busy with my glass and that was not the hour for light talk.
Yonder upon the port-bow a group of islands shaped on our horizon as
shadows upon a glassy sea. I could espy a considerable cliff-land
rising to the southward, and north of that the rocky spur of which I
have made mention. The sun was setting behind us in a sky of orange and
crimson, and it was wonderful to see the playful lights now giving
veins of gold to the dark mass of the higher rocks, or washing over the
shadows as a running water of flame. I have seen many beautiful sights
upon the sea, in storm or tempest, God's weather or the devil's; but I
shall never forget that sunset which brought me to Ken's Island on as
strange an errand as ever commissioned a ship. The deep blue of the
sky, the vastness of the horizon, the setting sun, the island's shaping
out of the deep: these, and the curiosity which kept the glass ever at
my eye, made an hour which a man might fear to tell of. True, I have
sighted many a strange land in my time and have put up my glass for
many an unknown shore; but yonder lay the home of Ruth Bellenden, and
to-morrow's sun would tell me how it fared with her. I had sailed from
England to learn as much.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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