The Battery and the Boiler: Adventures in Laying of Submarine Electric Cables by - (world best books to read txt) 📖

To awake “all at sea”—in other words, ignorant of one’s locality—is a rather common experience, but to awaken both at and in the sea, in a similar state of oblivion, is not so common.

It was the fortune of Robin Wright to do so on the first morning after the day of the wreck.

At first, when he opened his eyes, he fancied, from the sound of water in his ears, that it must have come on to rain very heavily, but, being regardless of rain, he tried to fall asleep again. Then he felt as if there must be a leak in his berth somewhere, he was so wet; but, being sleepy, he shut his eyes, and tried to shut his senses against moisture. Not succeeding, he resolved to turn on his other side, but experienced a strange resistance to that effort. Waxing testy, he wrenched himself round, and in so doing kicked out somewhat impatiently. This, of course, woke him up to the real state of the case. It also awoke Slagg, who received the kick on his shins. He, delivering a cry of pain straight into Sam Shipton’s ear, caused that youth to fling out his fist, which fell on Stumps’s nose, and thus in rapid succession were the sleepers roused effectually to a full sense of their condition.

“It’s cold,” remarked Stumps, with chattering teeth.

“You should be thankful that you’re alive to feel the cold, you ungrateful creetur,” said Slagg.

“I am thankful, Jim,” returned the other humbly, as he sought to undo the rope that held him fast; “but you know a feller can scarcely express thanks or—or—otherwise half asleep, an’ his teeth goin’ like a pair o’ nut-crackers.”

“The wind is evidently down,” remarked Sam, who had already undone his lashings. “Here, Robin, help me to untie this corner of the sail. I had no idea that sleeping with one’s side in a pool of water would make one so cold and stiff.”

“If it had bin a pool, Mr Shipton,” said Slagg, “it wouldn’t have made you cold; ’cause why? you’d have made it warm. But it was the sea washin’ out and in fresh that kep’ the temperater low—d’ee see?”

“What a cargo o’ rheumatiz we’ve been a-layin’ in this night for old age,” said Stumps ruefully, as he rubbed his left shoulder.

Throwing off the sail, Sam stood up and looked round, while an exclamation of surprise and pleasure broke from him. The contrast between the night and morning was more than usually striking. Not only had darkness vanished and the wind gone down, but there was a dead calm which had changed the sea into a sheet of undulating glass, and the sun had just risen, flooding the sky with rosy light, and tipping the summit of each swell with gleaming gold. The gentle, noiseless heaving of the long swell, so far from breaking the rest of nature, rather deepened it by suggesting the soft breathings of slumber. There were a few gulls floating each on its own image, as if asleep, and one great albatross soared slowly in the bright sky, as if acting the part of sentinel over the resting sea.

“How glorious!” exclaimed Robin, as, with flashing eyes, he gazed round the scarce perceptible horizon.

“How hard to believe,” said Sam, in a low voice, “that we may have been brought here to die.”

“But surely you do not think our case so desperate?” said Robin.

“I hope it is not, but it may be so.”

“God forbid,” responded Robin earnestly.

As he spoke his arm pressed the little bible which he had rescued from the wreck. Thrusting his hand into his bosom he drew it out.

“Darling mother!” he said, “when she gave me this she told me to consult it daily, but especially in times of trouble or danger. I’ll look into it now, Sam.”

He opened the book, and, selecting the verse that first met his eye, read: “In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them and carried them all the days of old.”

“That’s a grand word for us, isn’t it?—from Isaiah,” said Robin.

“Well, what do you make of it?” asked Sam, whose religious education had not been attended to as well as that of his friend.

“That our God is full of love, and pity, and sympathy, so that we have nothing to fear,” said Robin.

“But surely you can’t regard that as a message to us when you know that you turned to it by mere chance,” said Sam.

“I do regard it as a special message to us,” returned Robin with decision.

“And what if you had turned up an entirely unsuitable or inapplicable verse?” said Sam.

“Then I should have concluded that God had no special message for us just now, but left us to that general comfort and instruction contained throughout the whole word. When, however, special comfort is sought and found, it seems to me ungrateful to refuse it.”

“But I don’t refuse it, Robin,” returned Sam; “I merely doubt whether it is sent to us or not.”

“Why, Sam, all the bible was sent to us for comfort and instruction.”

“True—true. I have not thought much on that subject, Robin, but I’ll try to believe at present that you are right, for we stand much in need of strong hope at all events. Here we are, none of us knows how far from the nearest land, with little food and less water, on a thing that the first stiff breeze may knock to pieces, without shelter and without compass!”

“Without shelter and compass, Mr Shipton!” said Jim Slagg, who had hitherto listened in silence to the conversation; “why, what d’ye call this?” (taking hold of the sail). “Ain’t that shelter enough, and won’t the sun guide us by day and the stars by night. It seems to me that you are too despondin’, Mr Shipton.”

“Don’t ‘mister’ me any more, Slagg. It was all very well aboard ship where we had our relative positions, but now we are comrades in distress, and must be on an equal footing.”

“Very good,” replied Slagg, looking round in his comrades’ faces, and raising his voice as if making a speech. “Bein’ equal, as you say, I takes the liberty o’ callin’ a general meetin’ o’ this free and—if I may be allowed the expression—easy Republic. Moreover, I move myself into the chair and second the motion, which, nobody objectin’, is carried unanimously. Gentlemen, the business of this here meetin’ is to appoint a commander to this here ship, an’ what could be more in accordance with the rule o’ three—not to mention the rules o’ four and common sense—than a Shipton takin’ command. Who’s goin’ to make the first reslootion?”

Entering into the spirit of the thing, Robin moved that Samuel Shipton be appointed to command the ship and the party, with the title of captain.

“And without pay,” suggested Slagg.

“And I move,” said Stumps, who was just beginning to understand the joke, though a little puzzled by the fact that it was done in earnest, “I move that Robin Wright be first leftenant.”

“Brayvo, Stumps!” cried Slagg, “your intellec’ is growin’. It on’y remains to appoint you ship’s monkey and maid-of-all-work—specially dirty work—and, then, with a hearty vote o’ thanks to myself for my conduct in the chair, to vacate the same an’ dissolve the meetin’.”

These matters having been satisfactorily settled, the castaways proceeded to prepare breakfast, and while this was being done the recently appointed captain looked once more anxiously round in the hope of seeing the large raft with their late shipmates on it, but it was not to be seen. Neither raft, ship, nor any other sign of man wos visible on all the glittering sea.

Breakfast was not a tempting meal. The biscuits were, indeed, as good as ship’s biscuits ever are, and when moistened with sea water formed a comparatively pleasant as well as strengthening food; but the barrel of pork was raw; they had no means of cooking it, and had not yet experienced those pangs of hunger which induce men to luxuriate in anything that will allay the craving. They therefore breakfasted chiefly on biscuit, merely making an attempt, with wry faces, to swallow a little pork.

Observing this, Sam said, in a half-jocular manner:—

“Now, my lads, it is quite clear to me that in taking command of this ship, my first duty is to point out the evils that will flow from unrestrained appetite for biscuit;—also to insist on the cultivation of a love for raw pork. You have no notion how good it is when fairly believed in. Anyhow you’ll have to try, for it won’t do to eat up all the biscuit, and have to feed at last on pure pork.”

“I calls it impure pork,” said Slagg; “hows’-ever, capting, you’ve on’y to give the word and we obey. P’r’aps the best way’ll be to put us on allowance.”

This suggestion was at once acted on, and a considerable part of that bright day was spent by Sam and Robin in calculating how much pork should go to a biscuit, so that they should diminish in an equal ratio, and how much of both it would be safe to allow to each man per diem, seeing that they might be many days, perhaps even weeks, at sea. While the “officers” were thus engaged, Slagg and his friend Stumps busied themselves in making a mast and yard out of one of the planks—split in two for the purpose—and fitting part of their sail to the same.

Evening found them with the work done, a small sail hoisted on the rude mast, the remaining part of the canvas fitted more securely as a covering, and the apportioned meal before them. But the sail hung idly from its yard and flapped gently to and fro as the little ark rose and sank on the swell, for the calm still prevailed and the gorgeous sunset, with its golden clouds and bright blue sky, was so faithfully reflected in the sea, that they seemed to be floating in the centre of a crystal ball which had been dipped in the rainbow.

When night descended, the scene was, if possible, still more impressive, for although the bright colours had vanished, the castaways still floated in the centre of a dark crystal universe, whose unutterable depths were radiant with stars of varied size and hue.

Long they sat and gazed in solemn admiration at the scene, talking in subdued tones of past, present, and future, until their eyes refused to do their office and the heavy lids began to droop. Then, reluctantly, they crept beneath the sail-cloth covering and lay down to rest.

The planks were hard, no doubt, but our castaways were hardy; besides, a few folds of the superfluous portions of the large sail helped to soften the planks here and there.

“Now, boys,” said Slagg, as he settled himself with a long-drawn sigh, “the on’y thing we wants to make us perfectly happy is a submarine telegraph cable ’tween this an’ England, to let us say good-night to our friend, ashore, an’ hope they won’t be long in sending out to search for us.”

It is sad to be obliged to record that, Slagg’s companions being already asleep, this tremendous and original piece of pleasantry was literally cast upon the waters, where it probably made no impression whatever on the inhabitants of the slumbering sea.