<h2><SPAN name="chap3.7"></SPAN>CHAPTER 6</h2>
<p>The leading particulars of this narration were all that Augustus
communicated to me while we remained near the box. It was not until
afterward that he entered fully into all the details. He was apprehensive
of being missed, and I was wild with impatience to leave my detested place
of confinement. We resolved to make our way at once to the hole in the
bulkhead, near which I was to remain for the present, while he went
through to reconnoiter. To leave Tiger in the box was what neither of us
could endure to think of, yet, how to act otherwise was the question. He
now seemed to be perfectly quiet, and we could not even distinguish the
sound of his breathing upon applying our ears closely to the box. I was
convinced that he was dead, and determined to open the door. We found him
lying at full length, apparently in a deep stupor, yet still alive. No
time was to be lost, yet I could not bring myself to abandon an animal who
had now been twice instrumental in saving my life, without some attempt at
preserving him. We therefore dragged him along with us as well as we
could, although with the greatest difficulty and fatigue; Augustus, during
part of the time, being forced to clamber over the impediments in our way
with the huge dog in his arms—a feat to which the feebleness of my
frame rendered me totally inadequate. At length we succeeded in reaching
the hole, when Augustus got through, and Tiger was pushed in afterward.
All was found to be safe, and we did not fail to return sincere thanks to
God for our deliverance from the imminent danger we had escaped. For the
present, it was agreed that I should remain near the opening, through
which my companion could readily supply me with a part of his daily
provision, and where I could have the advantages of breathing an
atmosphere comparatively pure.</p>
<p>In explanation of some portions of this narrative, wherein I have spoken
of the stowage of the brig, and which may appear ambiguous to some of my
readers who may have seen a proper or regular stowage, I must here state
that the manner in which this most important duty had been performed on
board the Grampus was a most shameful piece of neglect on the part of
Captain Barnard, who was by no means as careful or as experienced a seaman
as the hazardous nature of the service on which he was employed would seem
necessarily to demand. A proper stowage cannot be accomplished in a
careless manner, and many most disastrous accidents, even within the
limits of my own experience, have arisen from neglect or ignorance in this
particular. Coasting vessels, in the frequent hurry and bustle attendant
upon taking in or discharging cargo, are the most liable to mishap from
the want of a proper attention to stowage. The great point is to allow no
possibility of the cargo or ballast shifting position even in the most
violent rollings of the vessel. With this end, great attention must be
paid, not only to the bulk taken in, but to the nature of the bulk, and
whether there be a full or only a partial cargo. In most kinds of freight
the stowage is accomplished by means of a screw. Thus, in a load of
tobacco or flour, the whole is screwed so tightly into the hold of the
vessel that the barrels or hogsheads, upon discharging, are found to be
completely flattened, and take some time to regain their original shape.
This screwing, however, is resorted to principally with a view of
obtaining more room in the hold; for in a full load of any such
commodities as flour or tobacco, there can be no danger of any shifting
whatever, at least none from which inconvenience can result. There have
been instances, indeed, where this method of screwing has resulted in the
most lamentable consequences, arising from a cause altogether distinct
from the danger attendant upon a shifting of cargo. A load of cotton, for
example, tightly screwed while in certain conditions, has been known,
through the expansion of its bulk, to rend a vessel asunder at sea. There
can be no doubt either that the same result would ensue in the case of
tobacco, while undergoing its usual course of fermentation, were it not
for the interstices consequent upon the rotundity of the hogsheads.</p>
<p>It is when a partial cargo is received that danger is chiefly to be
apprehended from shifting, and that precautions should be always taken to
guard against such misfortune. Only those who have encountered a violent
gale of wind, or rather who have experienced the rolling of a vessel in a
sudden calm after the gale, can form an idea of the tremendous force of
the plunges, and of the consequent terrible impetus given to all loose
articles in the vessel. It is then that the necessity of a cautious
stowage, when there is a partial cargo, becomes obvious. When lying-to
(especially with a small head sail), a vessel which is not properly
modelled in the bows is frequently thrown upon her beam-ends; this
occurring even every fifteen or twenty minutes upon an average, yet
without any serious consequences resulting, provided there be a proper
stowage. If this, however, has not been strictly attended to, in the first
of these heavy lurches the whole of the cargo tumbles over to the side of
the vessel which lies upon the water, and, being thus prevented from
regaining her equilibrium, as she would otherwise necessarily do, she is
certain to fill in a few seconds and go down. It is not too much to say
that at least one-half of the instances in which vessels have foundered in
heavy gales at sea may be attributed to a shifting of cargo or of ballast.</p>
<p>When a partial cargo of any kind is taken on board, the whole, after being
first stowed as compactly as may be, should be covered with a layer of
stout shifting-boards, extending completely across the vessel. Upon these
boards strong temporary stanchions should be erected, reaching to the
timbers above, and thus securing every thing in its place. In cargoes
consisting of grain, or any similar matter, additional precautions are
requisite. A hold filled entirely with grain upon leaving port will be
found not more than three fourths full upon reaching its destination—this,
too, although the freight, when measured bushel by bushel by the
consignee, will overrun by a vast deal (on account of the swelling of the
grain) the quantity consigned. This result is occasioned by settling
during the voyage, and is the more perceptible in proportion to the
roughness of the weather experienced. If grain loosely thrown in a vessel,
then, is ever so well secured by shifting-boards and stanchions, it will
be liable to shift in a long passage so greatly as to bring about the most
distressing calamities. To prevent these, every method should be employed
before leaving port to settle the cargo as much as possible; and for this
there are many contrivances, among which may be mentioned the driving of
wedges into the grain. Even after all this is done, and unusual pains
taken to secure the shifting-boards, no seaman who knows what he is about
will feel altogether secure in a gale of any violence with a cargo of
grain on board, and, least of all, with a partial cargo. Yet there are
hundreds of our coasting vessels, and, it is likely, many more from the
ports of Europe, which sail daily with partial cargoes, even of the most
dangerous species, and without any precaution whatever. The wonder is that
no more accidents occur than do actually happen. A lamentable instance of
this heedlessness occurred to my knowledge in the case of Captain Joel
Rice of the schooner Firefly, which sailed from Richmond, Virginia, to
Madeira, with a cargo of corn, in the year 1825. The captain had gone many
voyages without serious accident, although he was in the habit of paying
no attention whatever to his stowage, more than to secure it in the
ordinary manner. He had never before sailed with a cargo of grain, and on
this occasion had the corn thrown on board loosely, when it did not much
more than half fill the vessel. For the first portion of the voyage he met
with nothing more than light breezes; but when within a day’s sail of
Madeira there came on a strong gale from the N. N. E. which forced him to
lie-to. He brought the schooner to the wind under a double-reefed foresail
alone, when she rode as well as any vessel could be expected to do, and
shipped not a drop of water. Toward night the gale somewhat abated, and
she rolled with more unsteadiness than before, but still did very well,
until a heavy lurch threw her upon her beam-ends to starboard. The corn
was then heard to shift bodily, the force of the movement bursting open
the main hatchway. The vessel went down like a shot. This happened within
hail of a small sloop from Madeira, which picked up one of the crew (the
only person saved), and which rode out the gale in perfect security, as
indeed a jolly boat might have done under proper management.</p>
<p>The stowage on board the Grampus was most clumsily done, if stowage that
could be called which was little better than a promiscuous huddling
together of oil-casks {*1} and ship furniture. I have already spoken of
the condition of articles in the hold. On the orlop deck there was space
enough for my body (as I have stated) between the oil-casks and the upper
deck; a space was left open around the main hatchway; and several other
large spaces were left in the stowage. Near the hole cut through the
bulkhead by Augustus there was room enough for an entire cask, and in this
space I found myself comfortably situated for the present.</p>
<p>By the time my friend had got safely into the berth, and readjusted his
handcuffs and the rope, it was broad daylight. We had made a narrow escape
indeed; for scarcely had he arranged all matters, when the mate came
below, with Dirk Peters and the cook. They talked for some time about the
vessel from the Cape Verds, and seemed to be excessively anxious for her
appearance. At length the cook came to the berth in which Augustus was
lying, and seated himself in it near the head. I could see and hear every
thing from my hiding-place, for the piece cut out had not been put back,
and I was in momentary expectation that the negro would fall against the
pea-jacket, which was hung up to conceal the aperture, in which case all
would have been discovered, and our lives would, no doubt, have been
instantly sacrificed. Our good fortune prevailed, however; and although he
frequently touched it as the vessel rolled, he never pressed against it
sufficiently to bring about a discovery. The bottom of the jacket had been
carefully fastened to the bulkhead, so that the hole might not be seen by
its swinging to one side. All this time Tiger was lying in the foot of the
berth, and appeared to have recovered in some measure his faculties, for I
could see him occasionally open his eyes and draw a long breath.</p>
<p>After a few minutes the mate and cook went above, leaving Dirk Peters
behind, who, as soon as they were gone, came and sat himself down in the
place just occupied by the mate. He began to talk very sociably with
Augustus, and we could now see that the greater part of his apparent
intoxication, while the two others were with him, was a feint. He answered
all my companion’s questions with perfect freedom; told him that he had no
doubt of his father’s having been picked up, as there were no less than
five sail in sight just before sundown on the day he was cut adrift; and
used other language of a consolatory nature, which occasioned me no less
surprise than pleasure. Indeed, I began to entertain hopes, that through
the instrumentality of Peters we might be finally enabled to regain
possession of the brig, and this idea I mentioned to Augustus as soon as I
found an opportunity. He thought the matter possible, but urged the
necessity of the greatest caution in making the attempt, as the conduct of
the hybrid appeared to be instigated by the most arbitrary caprice alone;
and, indeed, it was difficult to say if he was at any moment of sound
mind. Peters went upon deck in about an hour, and did not return again
until noon, when he brought Augustus a plentiful supply of junk beef and
pudding. Of this, when we were left alone, I partook heartily, without
returning through the hole. No one else came down into the forecastle
during the day, and at night, I got into Augustus’ berth, where I slept
soundly and sweetly until nearly daybreak, when he awakened me upon
hearing a stir upon deck, and I regained my hiding-place as quickly as
possible. When the day was fully broke, we found that Tiger had recovered
his strength almost entirely, and gave no indications of hydrophobia,
drinking a little water that was offered him with great apparent
eagerness. During the day he regained all his former vigour and appetite.
His strange conduct had been brought on, no doubt, by the deleterious
quality of the air of the hold, and had no connexion with canine madness.
I could not sufficiently rejoice that I had persisted in bringing him with
me from the box. This day was the thirtieth of June, and the thirteenth
since the Grampus made sail from Nantucket.</p>
<p>On the second of July the mate came below drunk as usual, and in an
excessively good-humor. He came to Augustus’s berth, and, giving him a
slap on the back, asked him if he thought he could behave himself if he
let him loose, and whether he would promise not to be going into the cabin
again. To this, of course, my friend answered in the affirmative, when the
ruffian set him at liberty, after making him drink from a flask of rum
which he drew from his coat-pocket. Both now went on deck, and I did not
see Augustus for about three hours. He then came below with the good news
that he had obtained permission to go about the brig as he pleased
anywhere forward of the mainmast, and that he had been ordered to sleep,
as usual, in the forecastle. He brought me, too, a good dinner, and a
plentiful supply of water. The brig was still cruising for the vessel from
the Cape Verds, and a sail was now in sight, which was thought to be the
one in question. As the events of the ensuing eight days were of little
importance, and had no direct bearing upon the main incidents of my
narrative, I will here throw them into the form of a journal, as I do not
wish to omit them altogether.</p>
<p>July 3. Augustus furnished me with three blankets, with which I contrived
a comfortable bed in my hiding-place. No one came below, except my
companion, during the day. Tiger took his station in the berth just by the
aperture, and slept heavily, as if not yet entirely recovered from the
effects of his sickness. Toward night a flaw of wind struck the brig
before sail could be taken in, and very nearly capsized her. The puff died
away immediately, however, and no damage was done beyond the splitting of
the foretopsail. Dirk Peters treated Augustus all this day with great
kindness and entered into a long conversation with him respecting the
Pacific Ocean, and the islands he had visited in that region. He asked him
whether he would not like to go with the mutineers on a kind of exploring
and pleasure voyage in those quarters, and said that the men were
gradually coming over to the mate’s views. To this Augustus thought it
best to reply that he would be glad to go on such an adventure, since
nothing better could be done, and that any thing was preferable to a
piratical life.</p>
<p>July 4th. The vessel in sight proved to be a small brig from Liverpool,
and was allowed to pass unmolested. Augustus spent most of his time on
deck, with a view of obtaining all the information in his power respecting
the intentions of the mutineers. They had frequent and violent quarrels
among themselves, in one of which a harpooner, Jim Bonner, was thrown
overboard. The party of the mate was gaining ground. Jim Bonner belonged
to the cook’s gang, of which Peters was a partisan.</p>
<p>July 5th. About daybreak there came on a stiff breeze from the west, which
at noon freshened into a gale, so that the brig could carry nothing more
than her trysail and foresail. In taking in the foretopsail, Simms, one of
the common hands, and belonging also to the cook’s gang, fell overboard,
being very much in liquor, and was drowned—no attempt being made to
save him. The whole number of persons on board was now thirteen, to wit:
Dirk Peters; Seymour, the black cook; Jones, Greely, Hartman Rogers and
William Allen, all of the cook’s party; the mate, whose name I never
learned; Absalom Hicks, Wilson, John Hunty Richard Parker, of the mate’s
party;—besides Augustus and myself.</p>
<p>July 6th. The gale lasted all this day, blowing in heavy squalls,
accompanied with rain. The brig took in a good deal of water through her
seams, and one of the pumps was kept continually going, Augustus being
forced to take his turn. Just at twilight a large ship passed close by us,
without having been discovered until within hail. The ship was supposed to
be the one for which the mutineers were on the lookout. The mate hailed
her, but the reply was drowned in the roaring of the gale. At eleven, a
sea was shipped amidships, which tore away a great portion of the larboard
bulwarks, and did some other slight damage. Toward morning the weather
moderated, and at sunrise there was very little wind.</p>
<p>July 7th. There was a heavy swell running all this day, during which the
brig, being light, rolled excessively, and many articles broke loose in
the hold, as I could hear distinctly from my hiding-place. I suffered a
great deal from sea-sickness. Peters had a long conversation this day with
Augustus, and told him that two of his gang, Greely and Allen, had gone
over to the mate, and were resolved to turn pirates. He put several
questions to Augustus which he did not then exactly understand. During a
part of this evening the leak gained upon the vessel; and little could be
done to remedy it, as it was occasioned by the brig's straining, and taking
in the water through her seams. A sail was thrummed, and got under the
bows, which aided us in some measure, so that we began to gain upon the
leak.</p>
<p>July 8th. A light breeze sprang up at sunrise from the eastward, when the
mate headed the brig to the southwest, with the intention of making some
of the West India islands in pursuance of his piratical designs. No
opposition was made by Peters or the cook—at least none in the
hearing of Augustus. All idea of taking the vessel from the Cape Verds was
abandoned. The leak was now easily kept under by one pump going every
three quarters of an hour. The sail was drawn from beneath the bows. Spoke
two small schooners during the day.</p>
<p>July 9th. Fine weather. All hands employed in repairing bulwarks. Peters
had again a long conversation with Augustus, and spoke more plainly than
he had done heretofore. He said nothing should induce him to come into the
mate’s views, and even hinted his intention of taking the brig out of his
hands. He asked my friend if he could depend upon his aid in such case, to
which Augustus said, “Yes,” without hesitation. Peters then said he would
sound the others of his party upon the subject, and went away. During the
remainder of the day Augustus had no opportunity of speaking with him
privately.</p>
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