Foul Play [65]
them new to these poor fellows. He told them, among the rest, what the men of the _Bona Dea,_ waterlogged at sea, had suffered--twelve days without any food but a rat and a kitten--yet had all survived. He gave them some details of the _Wager,_ the _Grosvenor,_ the _Corbin,_ the _Medusa;_ but, above all, a most minute account of the _Bounty,_ and Bligh's wonderful voyage in an open boat, short of provisions. He moralized on this, And showed his fellow-sufferers it was discipline and self-denial from the first that had enabled those hungry specters to survive, and to traverse two thousand eight hundred miles of water, in those very seas; and that in spite of hunger, thirst, disease and rough weather.
By these means he diverted their minds in some degree from their own calamity, and taught them the lesson they most needed.
The poor fellows listened with more interest than you could have thought possible under the pressure of bodily distress. And Helen Rolleston's hazel eye dwelled on the narrator with unceasing wonder.
Yes, learning and fortitude, strengthened by those great examples learning furnishes, maintained a superiority, even in the middle of the Pacific; and not the rough sailors only, but the lady who had rejected and scorned his love, hung upon the brave student's words. She was compelled to look up with wonder to the man she had hated and despised in her hours of ease.
On the sixth day the provisions failed entirely. Not a crust of bread; not a drop of water.
At 4 P. M. several flying-fish, driven into the air by the dolphins and catfish, fell into the sea again near the boat, and one struck the sail sharply, and fell into the boat. It was divided, and devoured raw, in a moment.
The next morning the wind fell, and, by noon, the ocean became like glass.
The horrors of a storm have been often painted; but who has described, or can describe, the horrors of a calm, to a boatload of hungry, thirsty creatures, whose only chances of salvation or relief are wind and rain?
The beautiful, remorseless sky was one vault of purple, with a great flaming jewel in the center, whose vertical rays struck, and parched, and scorched the living sufferers; and blistered and baked the boat itself, so that it hurt their hot hands to touch it. The beautiful, remorseless ocean was one sheet of glass, that glared in their bloodshot eyes, and reflected the intolerable heat of heaven upon these poor wretches, who were gnawed to death with hunger; and their raging thirst was fiercer still.
Toward afternoon of the eighth day, Mackintosh dipped a vessel in the sea, with the manifest intention of drinking the salt water.
"Stop him!" cried Hazel, in great agitation; and the others seized him and overpowered him. He cursed them with such horrible curses that Miss Rolleston put her fingers in her ears, and shuddered from head to foot. Even this was new to her, to hear foul language.
A calm voice rose in the midst and said: "Let us pray."
There was a dead silence, and Mr. Hazel kneeled down and prayed loud and fervently; and, while he prayed, the furious cries subsided for a while, and deep groans only were heard. He prayed for food, for rain, for wind, for patience.
The men were not so far gone but they could just manage to say "Amen."
He rose from his knees and gathered the pale faces of the men together in one glance; and saw that intense expression of agony which physical pain can mold with men's features. And then he strained his eyes over the brassy horizon; but no cloud, no veil of vapor was visible.
"Water, water everywhere, but never a drop to drink."
"We must be mad," he cried, "to die of thirst with all this water round us."
His invention being stimulated by this idea, and his own dire need, he eagerly scanned everything in the boat, and his eyes soon lighted on two objects disconnected in themselves, but it struck him he could use them in combination. These were a common glass bottle, and Miss Rolleston's life-preserving jacket, that served her for a couch. He drew this
By these means he diverted their minds in some degree from their own calamity, and taught them the lesson they most needed.
The poor fellows listened with more interest than you could have thought possible under the pressure of bodily distress. And Helen Rolleston's hazel eye dwelled on the narrator with unceasing wonder.
Yes, learning and fortitude, strengthened by those great examples learning furnishes, maintained a superiority, even in the middle of the Pacific; and not the rough sailors only, but the lady who had rejected and scorned his love, hung upon the brave student's words. She was compelled to look up with wonder to the man she had hated and despised in her hours of ease.
On the sixth day the provisions failed entirely. Not a crust of bread; not a drop of water.
At 4 P. M. several flying-fish, driven into the air by the dolphins and catfish, fell into the sea again near the boat, and one struck the sail sharply, and fell into the boat. It was divided, and devoured raw, in a moment.
The next morning the wind fell, and, by noon, the ocean became like glass.
The horrors of a storm have been often painted; but who has described, or can describe, the horrors of a calm, to a boatload of hungry, thirsty creatures, whose only chances of salvation or relief are wind and rain?
The beautiful, remorseless sky was one vault of purple, with a great flaming jewel in the center, whose vertical rays struck, and parched, and scorched the living sufferers; and blistered and baked the boat itself, so that it hurt their hot hands to touch it. The beautiful, remorseless ocean was one sheet of glass, that glared in their bloodshot eyes, and reflected the intolerable heat of heaven upon these poor wretches, who were gnawed to death with hunger; and their raging thirst was fiercer still.
Toward afternoon of the eighth day, Mackintosh dipped a vessel in the sea, with the manifest intention of drinking the salt water.
"Stop him!" cried Hazel, in great agitation; and the others seized him and overpowered him. He cursed them with such horrible curses that Miss Rolleston put her fingers in her ears, and shuddered from head to foot. Even this was new to her, to hear foul language.
A calm voice rose in the midst and said: "Let us pray."
There was a dead silence, and Mr. Hazel kneeled down and prayed loud and fervently; and, while he prayed, the furious cries subsided for a while, and deep groans only were heard. He prayed for food, for rain, for wind, for patience.
The men were not so far gone but they could just manage to say "Amen."
He rose from his knees and gathered the pale faces of the men together in one glance; and saw that intense expression of agony which physical pain can mold with men's features. And then he strained his eyes over the brassy horizon; but no cloud, no veil of vapor was visible.
"We must be mad," he cried, "to die of thirst with all this water round us."
His invention being stimulated by this idea, and his own dire need, he eagerly scanned everything in the boat, and his eyes soon lighted on two objects disconnected in themselves, but it struck him he could use them in combination. These were a common glass bottle, and Miss Rolleston's life-preserving jacket, that served her for a couch. He drew this