makes much water; and,” continued he, looking round him, and up above, “we shall have fine weather, and a smooth sea before night.”
By the united exertions of Ready and William the breakfast was prepared while Mrs Seagrave still continued in a sound sleep. The motion of the ship was now very little: she only rolled very slowly from one side to the other; the sea and wind had gone down, and the sun shone brightly over their heads; the boat had been out of sight some time, and the ship did not go through the water faster than three miles an hour, for she had no other sail upon her than the main-topgallant sail hoisted up on the stump of the foremast. Ready, who had been some time down in the cabin, proposed to Mr Seagrave that Juno and all the children should go on deck. “They cannot be expected to be quiet, sir; and, now that Madam is in such a sweet sleep, it would be a pity to wake her. After so much fatigue she may sleep for hours, and the longer the better, for you know that (in a short time, I trust) she will have to exert herself.” Mr Seagrave agreed to the good sense of this proposal, and went on deck with Juno and the children, leaving William in the cabin to watch his mother. Poor Juno was very much astonished when she came up the ladder and perceived the condition of the vessel, and the absence of the men; but Mr Seagrave told her what had happened, and cautioned her against saying a word to Mrs Seagrave. Juno promised that she would not; but the poor girl perceived the danger of their position, and, as she pressed little Albert to her bosom, a tear or two rolled down her cheeks. Even Tommy and Caroline could not help asking where the masts and sails were, and what had become of Captain Osborn.
“Look there, sir,” said Ready, pointing out some floating sea-weed to Mr Seagrave.
“I perceive it,” said Mr Seagrave; “but what then?”
“That by itself would not be quite proof,” replied Ready, “but we sailors have other signs and tokens. Do you see those birds hovering over the waves?”
“I do.”
“Well, sir, those birds never go far from land, that’s all: and now, sir, I’ll go down for my quadrant; for, although I cannot tell the longitude just now, at all events I can find out the latitude we are in, and then by looking at the chart shall be able to give some kind of guess whereabout we are, if we see land soon.
“It is nearly noon now,” observed Ready, reading off his quadrant, “the sun rises very slowly. What a happy thing a child is! Look, sir, at those little creatures playing about, and as merry now, and as unaware of danger, as if they were at home in their parlour. I often think, sir, it is a great blessing for a child to be called away early; and that it is selfish in parents to repine.”
“Perhaps it is,” replied Mr Seagrave, looking mournfully at his children.
“It’s twelve o’clock, sir. I’ll just go down and work the latitude, and then I’ll bring up the chart.”
Mr Seagrave remained on deck. He was soon in deep and solemn thought; nor was it to be wondered at—the ship a wreck and deserted—left alone on the wide water with his wife and helpless family, with but one to assist him: had that one deserted as well as the rest, what would have been his position then? Utter helplessness! And now what had they to expect? Their greatest hopes were to gain some island, and, if they succeeded, perhaps a desert island, perhaps an island inhabited by savages—to be murdered, or to perish miserably of hunger and thirst. It was not until some time after these reflections had passed through his mind, that Mr Seagrave could recall himself to a sense of thankfulness to the Almighty for having hitherto preserved them, or could say with humility, “O Lord! thy will, not mine, be done.” But, having once succeeded in repressing his murmurs, he then felt that he had courage and faith to undergo every trial which might be imposed upon him.
“Here is the chart, sir,” said Ready, “and I have drawn a pencil line through our latitude: you perceive that it passes through this cluster of islands; and I think we must be among them, or very near. Now I must put something on for dinner, and then look sharp out for the land. Will you take a look round, Mr Seagrave, especially a-head and on the bows?”
Ready went down to see what he could procure for dinner, as the seamen, when they left the ship, had collected almost all which came first to hand. He soon procured a piece of salt beef and some potatoes, which he put into the saucepan, and then returned on deck.
Mr Seagrave was forward, looking over the bows, and Ready went there to him.
“Ready, I think I see something, but I can hardly tell what it is: it appears to be in the air, and yet it is not clouds. Look there, where I point my finger.”
“You’re right, sir,” replied Ready, “there is something; it is not the land which you see, but it is the trees upon the land which are refracted, as they call it, so as to appear, as you say, as if they were in the air. That is an island, sir, depend upon it; but I will go down and get my glass.”
“It is the land, Mr Seagrave,” said Ready, after examining it with his glass—“yes, it is so,” continued he, musing; “I wish that we had seen it earlier; and yet we must be thankful.”
“Why so, Ready?”
“Only, sir, as the ship forges so slowly through the water, I fear that we shall not reach it before dark, and I should have wished to have had daylight to have laid her nicely on it.”
“There is very little wind now.”
“Well, let us hope that there will be more,” replied Ready; “if not, we must do our best. But I must now go to the helm, for we must steer right for the island; it would not do to pass it, for, Mr Seagrave, although the ship does not leak so much as she did, yet I must now tell you that I do not think that she could be kept more than twenty-four hours above water. I thought otherwise this morning when I sounded the well; but when I went down in the hold for the beef, I perceived that we were in more danger than I had any idea of; however, there is the land, and every chance of escape; so let us thank the Lord for all his mercies.”
“Amen!” replied Mr Seagrave.
Ready went to the helm and steered a course for the land, which was not so far distant as he had imagined, for the island was very low: by degrees the wind freshened up, and they went faster through the water; and now, the trees, which had appeared as if in the air, joined on to the land, and they could make out that it was a low coral island covered with groves of cocoa-nuts. Occasionally Ready gave the helm up to Mr Seagrave, and went forward to examine. When they were within three or four miles of it, Ready came back from the forecastle and said, “I think I see my way pretty clear, sir: you see we are to the windward of the island, and there is always deep water to the windward of these sort of isles, and reefs and shoals to leeward; we must, therefore, find some little cleft in the coral rock to dock her in, as it were, or she may fall back into deep water after she has taken the ground, for sometimes these islands run up like a wall, with forty or fifty fathom of water close to the weather-sides of them; but I see a spot where I think she may be put on shore with safety. You see those three cocoa-nut trees close together on the beach? Now, sir, I cannot well see them as I steer, so do you go forward, and if I am to steer more to the right, put out your right hand, and if to the left, the same with your left; and when the ship’s head is as it ought to be, then drop the hand which you have raised.”
“I understand, Ready,” replied Mr Seagrave; who then went forward and directed the steering of the vessel as they neared the island. When they were within half a mile of it, the colour of the water changed, very much to the satisfaction of Ready, who knew that the weather-side of the island would not be so steep as was usually the case: still it was an agitating moment as they ran on to beach. They were now within a cable’s length, and still the ship did not ground; a little nearer, and there was a grating at her bottom—it was
