 | CHAPTER VIII. The Down-easters, &c. &c.
&c. |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
A moment of death-like stillness followed, and then
there was another faint sobbing cry afar off, a shriek
at my very elbow that thrilled through and through
me—a great rush overhead—a loud trampling on
deck—two or three heavy rolls, and a lurch, accompanied
by a trembling of the timbers that frightened
me half out of my senses, and a screaming from
every part of the ship, growing louder and louder at
every roll. In the belief that we were going down,
and that I had not a moment to lose, I sprang for the
companion-way, overturning every body in the passage,
and arrived on deck just in time to see a large
powerful man go headfirst over the side of the vessel,
as she recovered from the last roll and swung round
with a heavy lurch to the leward, jarring and shivering
through all her timbers at every dip of the
wheels—the women clinging to whatever they happened
to be near, their white veils and dishevelled
hair streaming away from their grasp, and their clothes
rattling fiercely in the wind—the frighted passengers
trying to assist the crew, and running about hither and
thither at every cry of the captain—Gage struggling
with somebody whom I afterwards found to be Gerard
Middleton, the handsome young Southerner, and calling
for assistance, within a few feet of the opening
gangway—the sea roaring and flashing directly under
their feet, with the swift brightness of a torrent—a
portion of the lee-bulwarks carried away and the
and fro with a violence that nothing could resist.
Save her! save her! screamed another and another
female voice. Heavenly Father! save her! shouted
Middleton, disengaging his right-arm and grasping
the shattered bulwark, against which his powerful
adversary had planted his foot, and was bearing with
all the strength of his body—the huge gate shrieking
and clapping at brief intervals, with a noise that overpowered
every thing else—the deck slippery with
spoon-drift—and the sea roaring for its prey.
Stop the engine! cried Gage, with a voice like a
trumpet. Heave her about captain Trip, and I will
answer for her safety—Gerard Middleton!—
They were now within a few inches of the very
brink—the sea almost on a level with their feet—
wrestling together as with all their strength—
Gerard Middleton! I swear to you by the Everlasting
God that if you go—we go together!
Be it so! cried Middleton stooping for a last effort
as he spoke—and the next moment he was pitched
head-long into the midst of a coil of rigging that lay
aft. Courage! courage! cried his antagonist, following
him and standing over him, ready to renew the
attack if he stirred with an evil purpose. Courage!
down with your boat my boys! over with all
your split-wood.—Ay, ay, shouted the captain, securing
the heavy gate as he spoke, and lashing it
home with the strength of a giant—away with ye,
my lads!
And away with the women too! cried Gage—they
have no business here—away with you to the cabin
ladies! we'll answer for your safety, if you'll betake
screaming—
Cant hear yourself speak now, cried a sailor—and
away flew the split wood from both sides of the deck,
and away scampered the women.
Over with it my lads! over with it! chairs, tables
and all! continued captain Trip—and instantly the
waters on both sides of our path were covered with
every thing buoyant that lay within reach—you'd
have thought our deck had been swept by a West
India hurricane—and as I ran aft, where Middleton
was lying apparently insensible, with Gage standing
over him like a roused lion over a refractory cub, I
saw a man pull down a large box from a pile of luggage—empty
it on deck with one blow of his foot—
secure the lid—stop the key-hole with a wad of
oakum—run as far aft as he could go—and wait there
till another who had just kicked off his boots—laid
aside his coat and hat as deliberately as if he were
going to an afternoon's nap—and who, calling upon
captain Trip to take notice, that they were left in his
charge, and that he must be answerable for them if any
thing happened,—got ready for a plunge. It was all
the work of a minute or two—hardly more—and it
was only after the struggle was over and the terror
no more, that I had time to arrange the circumstances
in my memory as they occurred. The two then
heaved the box overboard—the brave boat wore
round at the same instant—and over went the last-mentioned
man, just as I staggered to the lee-railing,
and caught a glimpse of a strong swimmer afar off,
and right in our wake, where our pathway was all
white and luminous with the irrisistable thundering of
I saw something more—yet further off and in a
different direction—a mass of white drapery buoyed
up and whirling and eddying with the swift waters.
I stretched out my arms involuntarily and might have
gone overboard too, but for Gage—for my heart died
within me—and I felt sure—ay, strange as it may
seem—perfectly sure that she, in whom I had felt so
much interest, she and no other, was now beyond the
reach of him and of help. I could even persuade
myself, as I stood clinging to the rails, and gasping
for breath, and watching what I saw in the distance,
that I could see her arms uplifted in her agony, and
her dark lustrous hair washing over her beautiful
face—
And there we stood, I know not how long, they
and I to the number of twenty or thirty altogether,
helpless and speechless, gazing as if fascinated with
terror upon the white halo, as it appeared to be slowly
and gradually sinking into the depth of waters. And
yet there was hope—some hope—for every blow of
the engine, every revolution of the wheel brought us
nearer, and the boats were already cast off, and the
oars were bending to the resolute fellows that manned
them; while the roar of the sea and the noise of the
wheels aboard were not enough to overpower the
encouraging cries of pull away! pull away! thats
your sort my lads—pull away!
One of the two persons who had jumped over-board
was now found to be on the wrong side of our
path, while the other had entirely disappeared, and
we were looking about and enquiring with our eyes,
for most of us were afraid or unable to speak, who
deepest anxiety. A breathless silence had succeeded
to the overwhelming uproar. Captain Trip, who was
below when the accident happened, had now got command
of his vessel, and you might have heard a pin
drop fore and aft her whole length, but for the noise
of the machinery and the ringing of the loud waters
when struck by the paddles, or thundering across our
pathway.
One circumstance I never shall forget—here stood
the old man—the aged grandfather—I could have
sworn to the relationship at a glance—unutterable
terror and hope and faith, and more than a grand-father's
love, all struggling together for mastery in
his agitated countenance—and each prevailing by
turns. As he stood holding on by the rail, with his
hat off, his hair blowing about his venerable face, and
his dim eyes fixed upon the disappearing brightness—
the white robe of his dear child fast vanishing, forever
and ever into the depths of the terrible sea—
forever and ever!—I saw him glance at poor Middleton,
who was lying on a bench near, as if utterly
overcome by the struggle—and I thought I could
perceive a look of self-reproach, on the one part and
a look of pity on the other.
How it happened that I did nothing but stare—
first at one object and then at another, all this time,
I do not know—I never knew—it is not my way in
seasons of danger—I never lost my self-command
before; and though but a poor swimmer and of course
utterly incapable of helping a fellow-creature in such
an extremity by jumping over-board, still I might
have been of some use in some other way, I think
and singularity of the adventure; and my heart has
reproached me a thousand and a thousand times since
for my boyish helplessness at the time—babyish I
might say—as I and some thirty more able-bodied
men stood there, motionless and speechless, waiting
the issue of life and death to one of that most beautiful
of God's creatures, without one cry—and I am
afraid without one prayer; though, as I hope for
mercy hereafter, I would have risked my life any
where—at any time—for almost any body—in almost
any other way; and but for the latter part of our
acquaintance, might have done it for her. Let others
expound the riddle that have the courage—I have
not.
Another and another faint cry reached us, and then,
just as the leading boat was rounding to, and one of
the oars was lifted as if to touch the object, the
drapery shivered and shook, and the boat lurched and
drifted away and appeared to be unmanageable. We
shut our eyes. And when we looked that way again,
we were very near, and lo! there was nothing to be
seen but a large spot near the top of the water, somewhat
lighter-colored than the rest over the smooth
dark level of the sea—Ah! the shriek! the loud
unearthly, overwhelming shriek that followed! Every
heart burst forth at once on every side of me—above
and below—as with a cry of horror. We altered our
course and were shooting by, swifter and more swiftly
at every revolution of the wheels, when we heard
voices from the sea right under our bows; and again
we were breathless and anxious, though not so much
in terror now, as in hope. A moment more, and
us down!—back the engine! were heard from the
sea and from the deck, followed by—there she is!
hurrah!—all safe, hurrah!—Amos 'll bring her up, as
sure as a die—didnt I tell yer so! fish up oysters fore
to day. I say—you—mister!—it was the yankee who
had thrown the chest over, speaking to somebody
whom I was unable to see, as he appeared to be just
under our bows—Here, take my hat! mind though
you must pay for it, case and all, if you're ever wuth
enough arter ye git ashore—there tis! cost four-sixty-nine
cash, Boston money—one thirty-one allowed
for the odds o' Philadelphy an' no dicker—turn
the mouth down, and keep it under water with a good
grip an' hold it there—stiddy, stiddy!—and you
might as well try to drown a bladder; there! you've
gut the knack now, and you may float this half hour;
and if you git tired a few, sing out to me, and I'll
spell ye!
The moment he began to speak, I ran forward,
and saw a large powerful man—it proved to be the
Tennessee-youth, apparently quite exhausted, and fast
dropping a-stern; yet holding on by the hat, with its
mouth under water and floating as if buoyed up with
a cork-jacket.
Thats you stranger! never mind me; you look out
for the wimmen-folks and I'll take care o' myself—
ride-and-tie if I cant do better; haint swum the 'Hio
for nothin' I warrant ye, six months upon the stretch,
five knot and a half agin the stream with a buffalo
under each arm, and a catamount on my back—putty
severe boatin' tho' where I am. Something more he
added in a cheerful voice, but we were already out
of reach, and the next moment, another loud, joyful
our search had re-appeared once more. I looked—
and saw both boats, which were now a long way off,
pulling together toward a spot where something
appeared like another very small boat. While I
was yet looking, somebody rose up from it, and
plunged into the sea. A moment more, and a slight
glimmering broke through the water, and the blue
chest emerged in full sight before our path, and lay
rocking upon the surface. Hourray! hourray! cried
a voice at my elbow, did'nt I tell ye so! He'll have
her now! if he dont, there's no sneks. When he
div the last time I knew what he was arter—hourray!
There now! capering about the deck and rubbing his
hands for joy—there now! see as well under water as
you can see here. Brung up to divin' at Pawtucket
Falls—ever there any on ye?—seen 'em jump off the
rich pole o' the Factory there, five stories high?—
swim like a fish—feared o' nothin' dead or alive—
dont be in sich a tarnal feeze neighbor (to the grand-father,
whose countenance I never shall forget as he
stood there—hardly venturing to let go his hold or to
look toward the sea). Bate ye what ye like ye'll see
her agin. There now!—see there!—did'nt I tell ye
so, as the old woman said, when the hog eet the
grinstone, hurray!
As he spoke, a strong arm appeared pushed forth
from the dread level of the deep, and clutching a mass
of white drapery. A short brief struggle ensued—
one end of the blue chest tilted in the air—and a voice
came up with more than mortal energy, as out of the
very jaws of Death, saying—Obadiah! Obadiah! I've
gut her, by jingo!
Hourray for you! you old rascal you; thats our
Amos! if taint I'm a chowderhead; jess like him—
hourray!
I shall not hourray! I never hourray till I'm out of
the woods, answered the other.
Jess so! cried the first, fetching the old man a slap
on the back, and cutting another caper with both feet
in the air. Ever see sich a feller?
By this time both boats were along side of the
sufferer, and by the help of the blue chest and a rope
or two, and a spare bench, they were all safe.
Now my lads! now pull away for that fine fellow
astern! cried Gage.
Ay, ay sir! And away they sprung.
Could'nt ye spell a feller, hey? shouted the man
with the box, evidently exhausted with the fatigue of
supporting his burthen, which was now in full sight—
her eyes closed, and her beautiful hair all about over
his broad shoulders.
Over went one of the crew and a passenger, head-first
in reply.
And over went Gage after them, not head-first like
the others, but steadily and safely by a rope; and
over went the youthful Georgian after him, though he
could'nt swim his length, and had only been prevented
by Gage from throwing himself overboard where
certain death awaited him.
Ah my brave fellow! cried Gage to the yankee, as
he dropped into the water, holding only the rope with
one hand—What ails you? are you hurt?
Jess you mind your own business an' take care o'
the gal. When she's safe, you may give me a boost
if you like—hulloo, hey, what!—there's another
care o' him, will ye; I'm too tired for that—pocky
tarnal tired, I ruther guess.
Gracious God—Middleton—is that you! cried Gage,
leaving the poor girl and her exhausted preserver, to
take care of themselves, and pulling after the adventurous
madman like a giant.
I had it now in my power to be of some use—a
little—not much; and intending to share in the glory
of the achievement, I grasped at the poor girl, stooping
over the bulwarks to do so, and with the help of
two or three more, succeeded in lifting her, speechless
and to all appearance lifeless, into the arms of
the women who had gathered about us; and was
turning away to assist the poor old grandfather, when
I heard the voice of the yankee below crying out—
hang on! hang on! by gosh I'll treat! Whereupon
I looked over and beheld Obadiah the swapper, dragging
Amos out of the great deep, literally, by the hair
of the head.
Mind the kew Diah! mind the kew I tell you; its
apt to stretch!—there't goes!
The words were hardly out of his mouth, when the
quieu parted near the middle, the upper part slipping
off like the skin of a squirel's tail, and letting poor
Amos into the sea again, over head and ears. It was
half a minute before he came up, and when he did,
the first words he spoke after getting his breath were—
Did'nt I tell ye so?
Did'nt I tell ye so! retorted the other looking at
the end of the quieu which he held in his hand, as if
he himself were drowning. Who'd a thought o'
your wearin' a false kew! Darn me if I dont believe
I 'member seein' a sojer scalped once 'twore a wig,
and the Indian was most frightened o' the two—aint
ye ashamed o' yourself, our Amos?
| CHAPTER VIII. The Down-easters, &c. &c.
&c. | |