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Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship 'Pirate'

<h2 id="id00418" style="margin-top: 4em">VIII</h2> At three bells in the afternoon the sea had begun to go down enough to allow us to get our new topsails on her and a main-topgallantsail. The Pirate went smoking through it under the pressure, trembling with each surge, and throwing a perfect storm of water over her catheads. The English ship was now a mere speck to windward, almost hull down, and we would have to beat up to her if we could. Just how badly she needed help we of course could not tell. If she were sinking fast, then she would have to depend upon her own boats, for the sea was too heavy until late in the afternoon to venture out in our only one left. We could no longer see her signals, but carried all the sail possible, without danger of carrying away our spars, in the effort to get close to her again. After standing along for an hour or more we wore ship, and found that we could just about get within hailing distance to leeward. Trunnell had the reef tackles rigged from the main yard, and the life-boat was slung clear of the lee rail. Then, watching a chance, she was let go with Hans and Johnson in her to keep her clear and dropped back to the mizzen channels, where the volunteers were ready to get aboard her. Four men besides myself manned her, and she was instantly let go to keep her clear of the sea, which hove her first high on the Pirate's quarter, and then down until our faces were below the copper on her bends. By dint of quick work we shoved her clear, and started on the pull, dead to windward. How small the Pirate looked when we were but a few fathoms distant in that sea! Our boat rode the waves nicely without shipping much water, and several times I turned to look back at the ship, where Trunnell stood beside the skipper, watching us through the glasses, and waiting to pick us up on our return. I could see the "doctor's" face above the topgallant rail forward and that of Chips in the waist. It was a long pull. The sea was running high and the wind was still blowing a half gale, breaking up the heavy oily clouds into long banks between which the sun shone at intervals. It was a good half hour's work before we could cover the short distance between the ships. We came slowly up under her lee quarter, and when we were quite close I could see that she was indeed very deep, if not actually sinking. The words "Royal Sovereign, Liverpool," were painted in gold letters on her stern, and on the circular buoys hanging upon her quarter-rail was the same name in black. A group of men stood near the mizzen rigging, and one short man with a black sou'wester and blue pilot coat hailed us through a large-mouthed trumpet, which almost hid his bearded face. "Boat ahoy! can you come aboard?" he roared. "We'll try to come alongside," I bawled. "Stand by to heave a line." A man had one ready and hove it well out with a yell to catch. Long Tom, our lean Yankee sailor, who was pulling bow oar, seized it as it fell across and took a turn around a thwart. The oars were shipped and we fell under the vessel's stern, riding the seas without mishap. "We're sinking," cried the short man, who was the captain. "Can you take some of us with you?" "Aye, aye; get them aboard here as quick as you can," came the answer. There was no time lost now. Men swarmed toward the taffrail, and for an instant it looked as if there would be something of a panic. The short skipper, however, flung them aside without ceremony, and the next instant a female figure appeared at the rail. "Haul easy," came the order. Hans and Tom pulled in the line slowly until the boat's bow was leading almost directly beneath the ship's stern. A bridle was rigged from the spanker boom and made fast to a life buoy. Then the lady who had appeared at the taffrail was slung in it rather uncomfortably and carefully lowered away. She was seized by one of the men forward, and handed aft to me. The woman was quite young. She was slightly built, and I supported her easily until she was safely in the stern sheets. A few strands of curly blond hair blew across my face, and gave me a most peculiar feeling as I brushed them aside. Then she turned up her face, and I saw that she had most beautiful eyes, soft and gentle, with a trusting look, such as one sees in children. "Thank you, Mr. Sailorman," she said, with a smile. "I'm all right now." "Except, perhaps, for a little wetting, you will stay so, I hope," I answered. A heavy woman was being lowered away, and Hans caught her boldly around the body, trying to keep her from being thrown out of the tossing small boat. She shrieked dismally. "Don't be silly, mamma," cried the young lady aft. "You've been squeezed tighter than that before, I am sure." She was passed aft and took her place beside her daughter in the stern, expostulating incoherently at the younger one's insinuations. Then followed a little man, short and stout, who was evidently the ship's carpenter, and he was followed by a dozen sailors. "Haven't you any boats that will swim?" I asked of the mate, who hung over the rail above me. "We're getting them out now," he answered. "Then let us go. We've got a big enough load already." In a few moments we were on our way back to the Pirate, making good headway before the wind and sea, and shipping little water. The men explained as we went along that the Sovereign had started a butt during the gale, and she was full of water by this time. They had kept at the pumps all day, but had given it up when they saw we were coming for them. The ship's cargo of oil and light woods from the peninsula had kept her from going to the bottom. She was homeward bound to Liverpool, and it was the captain's wife and daughter we were bringing aboard. The hurricane had caught them aback and dismasted them during the night, and after six hours of plunging helplessly into the sea without anything but the mainmast and stump of the foremast above the deck, she had sprung a leak and filled rapidly. The maintopsail they had bent in the morning after extraordinary exertion, and with this they had managed to keep her partly under control. "She will never go to the bottom with all the soft wood she has in her," said a sailor who was old and grizzled and had the bearing of a man-of-war's man. "She can't sink for months. The water is up to her lower deck already." "So that's the reason you were not getting your boats out in a hurry?" I asked. "Sure," said he; "I'd as soon stay in her a bit longer as in many a bleedin' craft that you sees a-goin' in this trade." "I noticed you were one of the first to leave her," said the young girl, with some spirit. "Ah, mum, when you gets along in life like me, hardships is not good for the constitootion. A sailorman, 'e gets enough o' them without huntin' any more. Howsumever, if I see any chance o' gettin' the bleedin' craft in port 'way out here in this Hindian Ocean, I'd be the last to leave. Bust me, mum, if that ain't the whole truth, an' a little more besides. You ask your pa." Here he gave a sigh, and drew his hand across his forehead as if in pain. His large pop eyes blinked sadly for a few moments, and his mouth dropped down at the corners. Then his mahogany-colored face became fixed and his gaze was upon the craft he had just deserted. What was in the old fellow's mind? I really felt sorry for him, as he sat there gazing sadly after his deserted home. Captain Sackett would stay aboard until the last, his wife informed us, but as there was no necessity of any one staying now, if their boats could live in the sea that was still running, it was probable that they would all be aboard us before night. Jenks, the old sailor, gave it as his opinion that they would have the boats out in half an hour. We came up under the lee of the Pirate and then began the job of getting our passengers aboard her. Trunnell passed a line over the main-brace bumpkin, and held the tossing craft away from the ship's side until a bridle could be bent and the ladies hoisted aboard. Mrs. Sackett trembled violently and begged that she would not be killed, much to her daughter's amusement. Finally she was landed on deck, where she was greeted by the third mate and escorted aft. Miss Sackett was of different stuff. She insisted that she could grab the mizzen channel plates and climb aboard. I begged her to desist and be hoisted on deck properly, but she gave me such a look that I held back and refrained from passing the line about her. As the boat lifted on a sea she made a spring for the channel. Her hand caught it all right, but her foot slipped, and as the boat sank into the hollow trough she was left hanging. Trunnell instantly sprang over the side, and letting himself down upon the channel, seized her hand and lifted her easily to a footing. The ship rolled down until they were knee deep in the sea, but the little mate held tight, and then, with one hand above his head, as she rose again, he lifted his burden easily to the grasp of Jim, who reached over the side for her. After she was landed safely the men crowded up the best way they could, and the boat was dropped astern with a long painter to keep her clear of the ship's side. Captain Thompson greeted his female passengers awkwardly. He declared in a drawling tone that he was 'most glad that their boat was wrecked, inasmuch as it had given him the opportunity to meet the finest ladies he had ever set eyes on. "May the devil grasp me in his holy embrace, madam," said he, "if I am lying when I says that word. It is my most pious thought, says I." Mrs. Sackett was somewhat taken aback at this candor, but managed to keep her feelings well hidden. Her daughter came to the rescue. "We appreciate your noble efforts, Captain Thompson. The fact is, we have heard so much about your gallantry in saving life at sea that we are sure anything we could say would sound weak in comparison to what you must already have heard. If you have a spare stateroom, we would be very thankful if we might have it for a time, as our clothes are quite wet from the sea." The skipper was somewhat surprised at the young girl's answer, but he hid his confusion by bawling for the steward. When the mulatto came, he gave numerous orders in regard to bunks, linen, drying of clothes, etc., regretting over and over again that he was a single man, and consequently had no wife from whom he could borrow wearing apparel while that of his guests was drying. The third mate, also, took pains to be very civil to them, and his soft voice could be heard in conversation with Miss Sackett long after they had gone below. I went forward and interviewed the men we had rescued, afterward getting the "doctor" to serve them something hot, as their galley fire had been out many hours and they had been eating nothing but ship's bread. The Pirate waited all the afternoon with her canvas shortened down to her lower topsails to keep her from forging ahead too fast. But even when it grew dark and the British ship could no longer be clearly made out, her skipper had not gotten out his boats. It was evident that he would try to save her if possible, and now that his family were safe he cared little for the risk. Captain Thompson still held the Pirate hove to under easy canvas, drifting slowly with the wind, which was now no more than a moderate breeze. The sea, also, was going down fast, and the sky was showing well between the long lines of greasy-looking clouds which appeared to sail slowly away to the northeast. The night fell with every prospect of good weather coming on the following day. I went on deck in the dog-watch and took a look around. The Sovereign was a mere blur on the horizon, but her lights shone clearly. "We'll stand by her all night," said Trunnell, "and then if the skipper doesn't care to leave her,—which he will, however,—we'll stand away again." There was little to do, so the watch lounged around the deck and rested from the exertion of the past twenty-four hours. Chips told me I had better come forward after supper and take a smoke in his room, for they were going to come to some conclusion about the fellow Andrews. There had been some talk of putting him aboard the English ship, and if we could get the captain to agree to it, it would be done. I loafed around until I saw a light between the crack of his door and the bulkhead. Then I slid it back, and entered. The stuffy little box was full of men. The bos'n, a large man named Spurgen, who had quite a swagger for a merchant sailor, was holding forth to the quartermaster, Hans, on nautical operations. "An' how'd ye do if ye had an anchor atween, decks widout nothin' to hoist it out wid?" he was saying as I came in. Hans affirmed, with many oaths, that he'd let the "bloody hancor go bloomin' well to the bottom before he'd fool wid it." This made the bos'n angry, and he opened with a fierce harangue, accompanied by a description of the necessary manoeuvres. He also made some remarks relating to the quartermaster's knowledge of things nautical. I took occasion to look about the little room while this was going on and my fingers warmed up some. I then seated myself on a corner of the chest near Chips to make myself easy, during which time the bos'n had gained sufficient ground to enforce silence upon his adversary, and relinquish the subject of anchors. Then came a pause during which I could distinguish the "doctor's" voice above the mutterings, and get a whiff of my own tobacco out of the haze. "—five fat roaches; they'll cure you every time," he was saying to Chips. "It's old man Green's sure remedy, sah, yes, sah. I hearn him tole his ole mate, Mr. Gantline, when he sailed in the West Coast trade." "Faith, ye may stave me, shipmate, but that would be an all-fired tough dish to swallow," the carpenter declared, with a wry face. "Supposen they didn't die? They would make a most eternal disagreeable cargo shiftin' about amongst your ribs. May the devil grab me, ye moke, if I wouldn't rather swell up an' bust wid th' scurvy than swallow them fellows kickin'." "Bile 'em, white man," said the cook. "Bile 'em in er pint er water—an' then fling 'em overboard. Who the debble would eat er roach?" "Right ye are, shipmate," assented Chips; "'tis an aisy enough dose to take if all ye do is to throw th' critters to lor'ard. Sink me, though, if I sees th' benefit av a medicine ye fling to David Jones instead av placin' it to th' credit av yer own innerds." "Yah, yah, Mr. Chips, but you beats me. Yes, sah, you beats me, but yer haid is thick. Yes, sah, yer haid is thick ernuff, yah, yah," laughed the "doctor." "What would yer do but drink the water, white man? yes, sah, drink the water for the acid in the critter. It's salt in yer blood makes scurvy, from libbin' so long er eatin' nuffin' but salt junk. Lime juice is good, ef the ole man gives it to yer straight, but he nebber does. No, sah, dat he nebber do. It's too expensive. Anyways, it doan' hab no strength like er roach, ner no sech freshness, which am de main pint after all." Seeing himself out of the talk, and having completely growled down the quartermaster, the bos'n started another subject. This was a tirade against bad skippers and crimps who stood in too thick with the shipping commissioners, and whom he swore were in league with each other and the devil. He was an old sailor, and his seamed face was expressive when launching into a favorite subject. Here was Jim's chance, and he spoke out. "Whatever became of Jameson, what was took off by Andrews?" he asked Chipps. "Was he doped?" I asked. "Didn't ye niver hear tell from O'Toole an' Garnett? They was Andrews's mates for a spell, until th' Irishman, God bless him, knocked him overboards an' nearly killed him in a scuffle on th' India Docks." "Cast loose; I want to hear," said the bos'n. There was a moment's silence, and Chips looked at me as though questioning the senior officer of his watch. Then he fixed himself comfortably on the chest by jamming himself against the bulkhead, locking his hands about his knees, blowing smoke in a thick cloud. I heard the hail of Trunnell from the bridge during this pause, asking about a t'gallant leach-line. Thinking it well to take a look out, I did so to see if the men obeyed his orders, and found them rather slow slacking the line. This made it necessary for me to take a hand in matters and instil a little discipline among them, which kept me on deck for some minutes. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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