Chapter 6: The Island

Robert came out of his benumbed state. It had all seemed a fantastic dream, but he had only to look around him to know that it was reality. Three or four battle lanterns were shining and they threw a ghostly light over the deck of the schooner, which was littered with spars and sails, and the bodies of men who had fallen before the fire of the sloop. Streams of blood flowed everywhere. He sickened and shuddered again and again.

The captain, a savage figure, stained with blood, showed ruthless energy. Driving the men who remained unwounded, he compelled them to cut away the wreckage and throw the dead overboard. Garrulous, possessed by some demon, he boasted to them of many prizes they would yet take, and he pointed to the black flag which still floated overhead, unharmed through all the battle. He boasted of it as a good omen and succeeded in infusing into them some of his own spirit.

Robert was still unnoticed and at first, he wandered about his strait territory. Then he lent a helping hand with the wreckage. His own life was at stake as well as theirs, and whether they wished it or not he could not continue to stand by an idler. Circumstance and the sea forced him into comradeship with men of evil, and as long as it lasted he must make the best of it. So he fell to with such a will that it drew the captain’s attention.

“Good boy, Peter!” he cried. “You’ll be one of us yet, in spite of yourself! Our good fortune is yours, too! You as well as we have escaped a merry hanging! I’ll warrant you that the feel of the rope around the neck is not pleasant, and it’s well to keep one’s head out of the noose, eh, Peter?”

Robert did not answer but tugged at a rope that two other men were trying to reeve. He knew now that while they had escaped the sloop of war their danger was yet great and imminent. The wind was still rising, and now it was a howling gale. The schooner had been raked heavily. Most of her rigging was gone, huge holes had been smashed in her hull, half of her crew had been killed and half of the rest were wounded, and there were not enough men to work her even were she whole and the weather the best. As the crest of every wave passed she wallowed in the trough of the sea and shipped water steadily. The exultant look passed from the captain’s eyes.

“I’m afraid you’re a lad of ill omen, Peter,” he said to Robert. “I had you on board another ship once and she went to pieces. It looks now as if my good schooner were headed the same way.”

A dark sailor standing near heard him, and nodded in approval, but Robert said:

“Blame the sloop of war, not me. You would lay her aboard, and see what has happened!”

The captain frowned and turned away. For a long time, he paid no further attention to Robert, all his skill and energy concentrated upon the effort to save his ship. But it became evident even to Robert’s inexperienced eye that the schooner was stricken mortally. The guns of the sloop had not raked and slashed her in vain. A pirate she had been, but a pirate she would be no more. She rolled more heavily all the time, and Robert noticed that she was deeper in the water. Beyond a doubt, she was leaking fast.

The captain conferred with the second mate, a tall, thin man whom he called Stubbs. Then the two, standing together near the mast, watched the ship for a while and Robert, a little distance away, watched them. He was now keenly alive to his fate. Young and vital, he did not want to die. He had never known a time when he was more anxious to live. He was not going to be sold into slavery on a West India plantation. Fortune had saved him from that fate, and it might save him from new perils. In a storm on a sinking vessel, he was nevertheless instinct with hope. Somewhere beyond the clouds, Tayoga’s Tododaho on his great star was watching him. The captain spoke to him presently.

“Peter,” he said, “I think it will be necessary for us to leave the ship soon. That cursed sloop has done for the staunchest schooner that ever sailed these seas. I left you on board a sinking vessel the other time, but as it seemed to bring you good luck then, I won’t do it now. Besides, I’m tempted to keep you with me. You bore yourself bravely during the battle. I will say that for you.”

“Thanks for taking me, and for the compliment, too,” said Robert. “I’ve no mind to be left here alone in the middle of the ocean on a sinking ship.”

“‘Tis no pleasant prospect, nor have we an easy path before us in the boats, either. On the whole, the chances are against us. There’s land not far away to starboard, but whether we’ll make it in so rough a sea is another matter. Are you handy with an oar?”

“Fairly so. I’ve had experience on lakes and rivers, but none on the sea.”

“‘Twill serve. We’ll launch three boats. Hooker, the boatswain, takes one, Stubbs has the other, and I command the last. You go with me.”

“It would have been my choice.”

“I’m flattered, Peter. I may get a chance yet to sell you to one of the plantations.”

“I think not, Captain. The stars in their courses have said ‘no.’”

“Come! Come! Don’t be Biblical here.”

“The truth is the truth anywhere. But I’m glad enough to go with you.”

One of the boats was launched with great difficulty, and the boatswain, Hooker, and six men, two of whom were wounded, were lowered into it. It capsized almost immediately, and all on board were lost. Those destined for the other two boats hung back a while, but it became increasingly necessary for them to make the trial, no matter what the risk. The schooner rolled and pitched terribly, and a sailor, sent to see, reported that the water was rising in her steadily.

The captain showed himself a true seaman and leader. He had been wounded in the shoulder, but the hurt had been bound up hastily and he saw to everything. Each of the boats contained kegs of water, arms, ammunition, and food. A second was launched and Stubbs and his crew were lowered into it. A great wave caught it and carried it upon its crest, and Robert, watching, expected to see it turn over like the first, but the mate and the crew managed to restore the balance, and they disappeared in the darkness, still afloat.

“There, lads,” exclaimed the captain, “you see it can be done. Now we’ll go too, and the day will soon come when we’ll have a new ship, and then, ho! once more for the rover’s free and gorgeous life!”

The unwounded men raised a faint cheer. The long boat was launched with infinite care, and Robert lent a hand. The pressure of circumstances made his feeling of comradeship with these men return. For the time at least his life was bound up with theirs. Two wounded sailors were lowered first into the boat.

“Now, Peter, you go,” said the captain. “As I told you, I may have a chance yet to sell you to a plantation, and I must preserve my property.”

Robert slid down the rope. The captain and the others followed, and they cast loose. They were eight in the boat, three of whom were wounded, though not badly. The lad looked back at the schooner. He saw a dim hulk, with the black flag still floating over it, and then she passed from sight in the darkness and driving storm.

He took up an oar, resolved to do his best in the common struggle for life, and with the others fought the sea for a long time. The captain set their course south by west, apparently for some island of which he knew, and meanwhile the men strove not so much to make the distance as to keep the boat right side up. Often Robert thought they were gone. They rode dizzily upon high waves and sloped at appalling angles, but they always righted and kept afloat. The water sprayed them continuously and the wind made it sting like a small shot, but that was a trifle to men in their situation who were straining merely to keep their breath in their bodies.

After a while--Robert had no idea how long the time had been-- the violence of the wind seemed to abate somewhat, and their immense peril of sinking decreased. Robert sought an easier position at the oar and tried to see something reassuring, but it was still almost as dark as pitch, and there was only the black and terrible sea around them. But the captain seemed cheerful.

“We’ll make it, lads, before morning,” he said. “The storm is sinking, as you can see, and the island is there waiting for us.”

In another hour the sea became so much calmer that there was no longer any danger of the boat overturning. Half of the men who had been rowing rested an hour, and then the other half took their turn. Robert was in the second relay, and when he put down his oar he realized for the first time that his hands were sore and his bones aching.

“You’ve done well, Peter,” said the captain. “You’ve become one of us, whether or no, and we’ll make you an honored inhabitant of our island when we come to it.”

Robert said nothing, but lay back, drawing long breaths of relief. The danger of death by drowning had passed for the moment and he had a sense of triumph over nature. Despite his weariness and soreness, he was as anxious as ever to live, and he began to wonder about this island of which the captain spoke. It must be tropical, and hence in his imagination beautiful, but by whom was it peopled? He did not doubt that they would reach it and that he, as usual, would escape all perils.

Always invincible, his greatest characteristic was flaming up within him. He seemed to have won, in a way, the regard of the captain, and he did not fear the men. They would be castaways together, and on the land opportunities to escape would come. On the whole, he preferred the hazards of the land to those of the sea. He knew better how to deal with them. He was more at home in the wilderness than on salt water. Yet a brave heart was alike in either place.

“We’d better take it very easy, lads,” said the captain. “Not much rowing now, and save our strength for the later hours of the night.”

“Why?” asked Robert.

“Because the storm, although it has gone, is still hanging about in the south and may conclude to come back, assailing us again. A shift in the wind is going on now, and if it hit us before we reached the island, finding us worn out, we might go down before it.”

It was a good enough reason and bye and bye only two men kept at the oars, the rest lying on the bottom of the boat or falling asleep in their seats. The captain kept a sharp watch for the other boat, which had gone away in the dark, but beheld no sign of it, although the moon and stars were now out, and they could see a long distance.

“Stubbs knows where the island is,” said the captain, “and if they’ve lived they’ll make for it. We can’t turn aside to search all over the sea for ‘em.”

Robert after a while fell asleep also in his seat and despite his extraordinary situation slept soundly, though it was rather an unconsciousness that came from extreme exhaustion, both bodily and mental. He awoke sometime later to find that the darkness had come back and that the wind was rising again.

“You can take a hand at the oar once more, Peter,” said the captain. “I let you sleep because I knew that it would refresh you and we need the strength of everybody. The storm, as I predicted, is returning, not as strong as it was at first, perhaps, but strong enough.”

He wakened the other men who were sleeping, and all took to the oars. The waves were running high, and the boat began to ship water. Several of the men, under instructions from the captain, dropped their oars and bailed it out with their caps or one or two small tin vessels that they had stored aboard.

“Luckily the wind is blowing in the right direction,” said the captain. “It comes out of the northeast, and that carries us toward the island. Now, lads, all we have to do is to keep the boat steady, and not let it ship too much water. The wind itself will carry us on our way.”

But the wind rose yet more, and it required intense labor and vigilance to fight the waves that threatened every moment to sink their craft. Robert pulled on the oar until his arms ached. Everybody toiled except the captain, who directed, and Robert saw that he had all the qualities to make him a leader of slavers or pirates. In extreme danger, he was the boldest and most confident of them all, and he stood by his men. They could see that he would not desert them, that their fortune was his fortune. He was wounded, Robert did not yet know how badly, but he never yielded to his hurt. He was a figure of strength in the boat, and the men drew courage from him to struggle for life against the overmastering sea. Somehow, for the time at least, Robert looked upon him as his leader, obeying his commands, willingly and without question.

He was drenched anew with the salt water, but as they were in warm seas he never thought of it. Now and then he rested from his oar and helped bail the water from the boat.

Pale dawn showed at last through the driving clouds, but it was not encouraging. The sea was running higher than ever, and there was no sign of land. One of the men, much worse wounded than they had thought, lay down in the bottom of the boat and died. They tossed his body unceremoniously overboard. Robert knew that it was necessary, but it horrified him just the same. Another man, made light of head by dangers and excessive hardships, insisted that there was no island, that either they would be drowned or would drift on in the boat until they died of thirst and starvation. The captain drew a pistol and looking him straight in the eye said:

“Another word of that kind from you, Waters, and you’ll eat lead. You know me well enough to know that I keep my word.”

The man cowered away and Robert saw that it was no vain threat. Waters devoted his whole attention to an oar, and did not speak again.

“We’ll strike the island in two or three hours,” the captain said with great confidence.

The dawn continued to struggle with the stormy sky, but its progress was not promising. It was only a sullen gray dome over a gray and ghastly sea, depressing to the last degree to men worn as they were. But in about two hours the captain, using glasses that he had taken from his coat, raised the cry:

“Land ho!”

He kept the glasses to his eyes a full two minutes, and when he took them down he repeated with certainty:

“Land ho! I can see it distinctly there under the horizon in the west, and it’s the island we’ve been making for. Now, lads, keep her steady and we’ll be there in an hour.”

All the men were vitalized into new life, but the storm rose at the same time, and spray and foam dashed over them. All but two or three were compelled to work hard, keeping the water out of the boat, while the others steadied her with the oars. Robert saw the captain’s face grow anxious, and he began to wonder if they would reach the island in time. He wondered also how they would land in case they reached it, as he knew from his reading and travelers’ tales that most of the little islands in these warm seas were surrounded by reefs.

The wind drove them on and the island rose out of the ocean, a dark, low line, just a blur, but surely land, and the drooping men plucked up their spirits.

“We’ll make it, lads! Don’t be down-hearted!” cried the captain. “Keep the boat above water a half hour longer, and we’ll tread the soil of mother earth again! Well done, Peter! You handle a good oar! You’re the youngest in the boat, but you’ve set an example for the others! There’s good stuff in you, Peter.”

Robert, to his surprise, found his spirit responding to this man’s praise, slaver and pirate though he was, and he threw more strength into his swing. Soon they drew near to the island, and he heard such a roaring of the surf that he shuddered. He saw an unbroken line of white and he knew that behind it lay the cruel teeth of the rocks, ready to crunch any boat that came. Everyone looked anxiously at the captain.