The Voyages of the "Ranger" and "Crusader": And what befell their Passengers and Crews. — John Shaqi
The Voyages of the "Ranger" and "Crusader": And what befell their Passengers and Crews.Kingston, William Henry Giles
General
The Voyages of the "Ranger" and "Crusader": And what befell their Passengers and Crews.
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
As may be supposed, they had been several times interrupted by the crew,
who now and then came by leading aft the stays of the mast now at length
set up. Scarcely any of the men cast more than a momentary glance at
the icebergs, but this glance showed that they looked on them with no
favourable eyes. All the time, too, it must be remembered, the pumps
were kept clanking away as before. No human beings ever worked harder
than the crew of the "Ranger;" they well knew, indeed, that they were
labouring for their lives. Hour after hour passed by--there was no
knocking off even for breakfast; it would be time enough to take their
food when the sails were spread, and the ship was standing away from the
beautiful but fearfully dangerous icebergs.
By the time the sun had risen high in the sky the water around had
become of a dark-green hue, and now not only icebergs and the distant
fields of ice were seen, but vast masses of drift ice were observed
floating about. Already two or three yards had been got across, and the
sails were being bent.
Willy found himself close to his friend Harry. "Shafto, you look
unusually grave," he observed; "you seem pretty well knocked up."
"We all of us have reason to be grave," answered Harry; "there is
evidently a strong in-draught towards that big berg, and unless we can
get the sails bent and a breeze to take us off, no human power can save
us from driving against it, and then we shall be worse off than we were
when we struck the berg the other night."
"But don't you think we shall get the sails bent in time?" asked Willy.
"We may get the sails bent, but the wind to fill them may not come; we
must depend on Heaven's mercy for that."
Harry Shafto would not generally have spoken so despondingly, but he was
well-nigh worn-out; and yet he probably did not see matters in a worse
light than most of the other officers.
The passengers had been sometime before summoned below to breakfast, and
only the crew and soldiers engaged in active duty remained on deck.
They were all working away as hard as ever.
The foremast, which had stood, had been well stayed, and a fresh
fore-topmast had also been got up. The captain and officers were
watching anxiously for a breeze. It came at length from the southward.
Sail was made, the ship was put before the wind, and it seemed that she
was now about to move out of her dangerous position. "Let the people go
below and get their breakfasts, Mr Tobin," said the commander to the
first-lieutenant; "they are well-nigh knocked up, and may still have
heavy work before them." The boatswain's whistle was soon heard piping
to the welcome meal, and the men gladly hurried below, though with less
of the elasticity which they exhibited generally on such occasions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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