University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.
The Windward Gage.

The roar of the tempest ere it struck
the frigate was fearful. The up-rearing
waves charged upon the ship like armed
squadrons, with sounds not unlike the
wild din of battle, the loud cannon rattling,
the rolling musketry, `the thunder
of the Captains and shouting!' All was
confusion and terror. The storm stay-sails
and jib burst instantly, like the
sharp ring of artillery, and the fragments
went whirling to leeward like feathers
on the blast. The waves overleaped
the ship and swept a score of living men
into the waters to struggle with death.
The frigate was thrown over upon beamends,
and the cracking and rending of
spars and cordage added their sounds to
the storm.

`Cut away the masts fore and aft!'
shouted the English commander through
his trumpet. His voice was scarcely
heard in the fierce uproar of the elements;
but men understood what he
ought to have said, and sprung to unlose
their axes, which began to fall upon the
weather stays with a loud hacking noise.
Stay after stay snapped and lashed the
air furiously, and with a loud rending
and flying of splinters went overboard
the main-mast and mizen-mast.

`Hold on the fore-mast! She rights!'
thundered the Captain, as the ship rolled
suddenly up to windward, and so far
over that she took in water on that side.
After a moment she lay upon an even
keel, to the great joy of every soul on
board; for at one moment with the immense
weight of her guns, there was the
most iminent danger of her capsizing
keel upward. The instant peril was
past and as the fierce, red lightning,
which constantly shone, fell upon the
faces of those on board it showed them
looking one at another with expressions
of gratitude. The danger, however, was
far from being past. The roar of the
winds was still terrific and their fury increasing.
The huge mountainous billows
lifted the dismasted ship upon their
crests and hurled it forward unresistingly
towards the land under her lee. The
thunder rolled like an incessant cannonading;
and seemed to be close over the
deck. The clouds seemed to hang so
low as nearly to touch the top of the
only remaining mast, enveloping the sea
in black pall. The ocean roared and
tumbled like a sea of cataracts. The
rain fell in glassy sheets, and the winds
had become whirlwinds and went shrieking
over the fated ship as if the air had
been filled with demons.

As soon as the Captain saw that the
frigate was once more upon her legs, he
gave orders to sound the wells; and finding
she had not been strained so as to
take in water he felt that the ship might
yet be saved.

`Young man,' he said, laying his hand
impressively upon the arm of the youthful
pilot, George, who had been thrown
down with the rest when the ship was
knocked over, and now was steadying
himself by the capstan, `did you come
on board as a pilot, for I have not yet
had time to ask you?'

`Yes, sir,' answered George, scarcely
able to speak for the wind and rain, and
unable to hear his own voice. The
English Captain placed his ear close to
his lips, and both stooped so as to be
sheltered by the portion of the bulwarks
that were not thrown down by the falling
masts.

`Our only safety is in being able to
run into one of the harbours. Can you
pilot me in?'

`Yes, sir! I know the channel well!'

`By night?'

`As well as in the day; especially
with the lightning to aid me.'

`Good. Go to the helm and you
shall have three men to help you at the
wheel!'

`I shall need them—I have an arm
broken, and shall only be able to teach
them how to steer; the black man here
will aid also.'

`That will do. Young man, if you
save the ship, you shall have one hundred
pounds.'

`I did not come to be paid for my services,
sir; money would hardly have
tempted me to risk my life to reach your
ship. Will she be able to carry a topsail
close-reefed, sir, on her foremast,
and a jib?' he asked, as if giving himself
at once to his duties.

`Yes, I think so.'

`If you can get her under her topsail
and jib, and rig a jury-mast aft so as to
present a small bit of canvass to the wind,
I think I can run her into Northrop's
Bay.'

`I will give the orders at once—we
are drifting fast landward. Is there bold
water here?'

`Close up with the land, quite sufficient
to float the frigate for a mile yet towards
the shore.'

`Where is this Bay?'

`You can see the entrance, sir: wait
for the next flash of lightning—it is between
the two headlands, on one of which
you will see a tall white landmark.'

`I see it now—we shall have to lay
close to the wind to get in.'

`Yes, sir; but I think I can reach the
Bay in safety if the ship holds together.'

`You are a brave young fellow, and
will do a noble deed if you save us to-night
from the peril of our position,' answered
the captain, as he turned and
gave through his trumpet the necessary
orders to get sail on the frigate.

The winds and waves still roared and
raved, and the ship was rapidly driven
before it towards the land. All eyes
were now fixed upon George as he went
aft and stood by the helm. The officers
watched him by the light battle-lanterns
hanging round, and saw in his countenance
a certain air of resolution and
judgment which gave them confidence
in him. They saw how his quick observing
eye glanced over the ship, and
then, as the lightning permitted, towards
the land, as if cooly calculating the danger
and the means of escape. They also
fixed their attention with interest upon
Buttermilk, who was at George's elbow,
and whom they saw, by the young fisherman's
command, take the first and
most responsible position at the wheel.
Two seamen, the best steersmen in the
ship, were appointed by the captain to
aid him. George took his post on the
left of the wheel, a little elevated, so as
to be able to con the ship from stem to
stern. All this while the uproar and
confusion of the tornado were dreadful.
Orders had to be passed from man to

man, and from ear to ear—for voices
could no longer be heard.

`That young man will do his duty,'
said the English captain within himself;
`if the ship can be saved he has an eye
that shows me he can do it.'

The fore-topsail was at length set,
close-reefed, and another jib hoisted.—
The mast bent forward like a withe beneath
the force of the outward-stretching
sails, and each moment every one on
board expected to see the topsail blown
clear out of the bolt-ropes, and tossed on
the winds like tow. But it continued to
hold its place, and drove the frigate forward
almost with the speed of the tornado,
plunging her bows deep beneath the
billows, and tossing the spray in huge jets
over the fore-top. Her course was as
strait as an arrow for the land, which was
not a mile distant, its cliffs rising, as they
were seen by the flashes of lightning, out
of an ocean of foam.

`Mind your hand, young man!' cried
the captain. `All our lives are in your
hand—I hope you know what you are
about.'

George made no reply: his eye was
upon the ship's course, and his whole
soul seemed wrapped in the responsible
duty he had taken upon himself.

It was a sublime moral spectacle to
see that young fisherman standing there
the centre of all eyes—the hope of the
lives of five hundred and seventy men.

The ship continued her course right on
for the land for a moment after the captain,
in his anxiety, had spoken; and
then George, catching one of the spokes
of the wheel, called out in a loud clear
tone,—

`Brace up the fore-topsail—sharp up!
—Hard a-lee!'

The steersmen threw their whole
weight upon the wheel—the ship's head
rapidly came up into the wind, and the
topsail swinging of itself—for no number
of men could manage it—the vessel bore
away upon the starboard tack as obedient
to her helm as a cock-boat. This
was a dangerous manœuvre at such a
time, but its success confirmed the confidence
of all on board in their youthful
pilot.

The ship's course was now about W.
N. West, as close to the wind as she
could lay with her jury mast and topsail,
the only two sails that she could carry.
The captain now came up and spoke to
George with an air of respect and deference,
as he would have addressed an old
and experienced pilot.'

`Where do you intend to run in, sir?'

Between the two headlands I before
pointed out, sir. Keep her nigh, men?
Look sharp for the Porpus Ledge, Milk,
and just make it in a line with the bow-sprit.'

`I see it massa Jorge. Dere no ledge
dere now, ony de white froth. If de wind
hold dis a-way we hab to chance runnin'
on de Foxes; coz de tide run in like debbel.'

`Keep her steady as you are.' answered
George.

`Don't you want the lead hove again,
sir,' asked the captain.

`No, sir. I have fished on every fathom
of this coast. I know its depth anywhere.
We are now in twenty-eight fathoms.
Luff a little, Milk. You are falling
off; and you well know if we get to
leeward of the Ledge we are gone without
hope.'

`Do you mean to try and weather that
foaming rock ahead?' asked the captain.

A loud peal of thunder close above
their heads, and the increased roar of the
waves prevented him from replying. At
length he answered,

`I shall weather the Ledge if possible.
The ship's safety depends on it. If we
fall to leeward of it we shall strike on a
sunken shoal and go to pieces.'

`Then for God's sake watch your helm
young man.'

`They steer right now. We shall, no
doubt, pass the danger safely; but as it
requires all my attention, please don't
speak to me till it is passed.'

`You are right.

It was soon understood by every man
in the ship that their safety depended on
weathering the vast bank of foam that
seemed to lay directly in their course,
about a third of a mile ahead. The foam
upon the ledge could be seen without the
aid of the lightning, by its own phosphorescent
light. It was an appalling spectacle.
Every eye gazed upon it as if it
were a grave. Every few seconds the
course of the ship was reported from
mouth to mouth; the report now producing
pleasure as the distant opening between
the bow and the ledge seemed
wider, and now turning every face pale
with fear, as it decreased in breath;

The rain as suddenly ceased as it had
come on, and the atmosphere being clear,
showed them their danger in all its dread
aspects. The wind still howled, and the
thunder rattled, and the sea roared and
dashed against the frigate's sides with terrible
blows, shaking her to her centre.

The young fisherman kept his eye upon
the course of the ship, and gave his
orders with coolness and decision. Nearer
and nearer they approached the danger,
and now the roar of the breakers up
on the ledge rises above the raving of the
storm. The distance every instant lessens.
The frigate rolls, plunges, dashes
on and seems for an instant before reaching
it to be about to plunge headlong into
the vortex. All is breathless expectation.

`Steady, as you are,' said the young
fisherman in a quiet tone of voice.

The whole sea around the bow seemed
a whirlpool. Its surface was white with
foam. The noise of the surges was deafening.
The crisis is at hand. For a moment
the ship seems to be among the
breakers. But it is only for an instant.
She drives on past the reef in safety, but
so near that the black heads of the rocks
could be seen lifting themselves from the
frothy billows within thirty feet of the
ship's quarter. Another moment and the
foaming gulf was past and was seen astern;
and the joyful sense of safety to
the hundreds on board found vent in a
shout that out-shouted the storm.

The ship stood on steadily in the same
course for about three minutes, when
George, who had been all the while calm
and collected, and who looked as if he
was only engaged in an ordinary duty,
gave orders to put the frigate's head before
the wind. It was obeyed with alacrity,
and the half dismantled ship of war,
stately in her ruins, bounded swiftly onward
before the tempest in the direction
of the entrance to Northrop's bay.