on the fourth night succeeding the perilous position of the janson off cape antoine, the brig was making about seven knots, current of the gulf included. the sun had set beneath heavy radiant clouds, which rolled up like masses of inflamed matter, reflecting in a thousand mellow shades, and again spreading their gorgeous shadows upon the rippled surface of the ocean, making the picture serene and grand.
as darkness quickly followed, these beautiful transparencies of a west-india horizon gradually changed into murky-looking monitors, spreading gloom in the sombre perspective. the moon was in its second quarter, and was rising on the earth. the mist gathered thicker and thicker as she ascended, until at length she became totally obscured. the captain sat upon the companion-way, anxiously watching the sudden change that was going on overhead; and, without speaking to any one, rose, took a glance at the compass, and then went forward to the lookout, charging him to keep a sharp watch, as they were not only in a dangerous channel, but in the track of vessels bound into and out of the gulf. after this, he returned amidship, where the little miniature salt we have described before lay, with his face downward, upon the main-hatch, and ordering him to bring the lead-line, he went to leeward and took a cast; and after paying out about twenty-five fathoms without sounding, hauled aboard again. the wind was southward and light. as soon as he had examined the lead he walked aft and ordered the sheets eased and the vessel headed two points farther off. this done, he went below, and shaking his barometer several times, found it had begun to fall very fast. taking down his coast-chart, he consulted it very studiously for nearly half an hour, laying off an angle with a pair of dividers and scale, with mathematical minuteness; after which he pricked his course along the surface to a given point. this was intended as his course.
"where do you make her, captain?" said the mate, as he lay in his berth.
"we must be off the capes--we must keep a sharp look out for them reefs. they are so deceptive that we'll be on to them before we know it. there's no telling by sounding. we may get forty fathoms one minute and strike the next. i've heard old west-india coasters say the white water was the best warning," replied the captain.
"i'm mighty afraid of that carysfort reef, since i struck upon it in 1845. i was in a british schooner then, bound from kingston, jamaica, to new york. we kept a bright lookout, all the way through the passage, and yet struck, one morning just about day-light; and, five minutes before, we had sounded without getting bottom. when it cleared away, that we could see, there was two others like ourselves. one was the ship john parker, of boston, and the other was a 'long-shoreman. we had a valuable cargo on board, but the craft wasn't hurt a bit; and if the skipper--who was a little colonial man, not much acquainted with the judicial value of a wrecker's services--had a' taken my advice, he wouldn't got into the snarl he did at key west, where they carried him, and charged him thirty-six hundred dollars for the job. yes, and a nice little commission to the british consul for counting the doubloons, which, by-the-by, skipper, belonged to that great house of howland & aspinwalls. they were right clever fellows, and it went into the general average account for the relief of the underwriters' big chest," continued the mate.
"we must have all hands ready at the call," said the captain. "it looks dirty overhead, and i think we're going to catch it from the north-east to-night. if we do, our position is not as good as before. i don't feel afraid of her, if we only get clear of this infernal coast," said the skipper, as he rolled up his chart, and repaired on deck again.
during this time, manuel, who, had given the crew some very acceptable hot cakes for supper, was sitting upon the windlass, earnestly engaged, with his broken english, recounting an adventure he had on the coast of patagonia, a few years previous, while serving on board a whaleman, to a shipmate who sat at his left. it was one of those incidents which frequently occur to the men attached to vessels which visit that coast for the purpose of providing a supply of wood and water, and which would require too much space to relate here.
"did you run, manuel?" said the listening shipmate.
"what else did me do? if i no run, i'd not be here dis night, because i be make slave, or i be killed wid club. patagonian don't care for flag--nor not'in' else--i trust--e my leg, an' he get to de boat jus' when cap-i-tan come to rescue."
"was you on board an englishman then, manuel?" inquired the shipmate.
"yes, i'm always sail in english ship, because i can get protection from flag and consul, where i go--any part of globe," said he.
"i never liked this sailing among barbarous nations; they've no respect for any flag, and would just as lief imprison an englishman or an american as they would a dog. they're a set of wild barbarians, and if they kill a fellow, there's no responsibility for it. it's like a parcel of wolves chasing a lamb, and there's no finding them after they've killed it. but they give a fellow his rights in old england and the states. a man's a man there, rich or poor, and his feelings are just as much his own as anybody's. it's a glorious thing, this civilization, and if the world keeps on, there'll be no danger of a fellow's being imprisoned and killed among these savages. they're a cowardly set, for nobody but cowards are afraid of their own actions. men neither imprison nor kill strangers, that don't fear the injustice of their own acts. you may smoke that in your pipe, manuel, for i've heard great men say so. but you'd been done making dough-nuts then, manuel, if they'd got hold o' you."
"never catch manuel among patagonians, again; they not know what the flag be, nor they can't read de registrum ticket, if they know'd where england was," said manuel; and just as he was concluding the story of his adventure, the little sailor-boy put his arm around manuel's waist, and, laying his head on his breast, fondled about him with an affectionate attachment. the little fellow had been a shipmate with manuel on several voyages, and, through the kindness he had received at his hands, naturally formed an ardent attachment to him. taking advantage of the good treatment, he knew how to direct his attention to the steward whenever he wanted a snack from the cabin-locker of that which was not allowed in the forecastle. after holding him for a minute, encircling his arm around the little fellow's shoulder, he arose, and saying, "i know what you want, tommy," proceeded to the cabin and brought him several little eatables that had been left at the captain's table.
the wind now began to veer and increase, her sails kept filling aback; and as often as the man at the helm kept her off, the wind would baffle him, until finding it would be necessary to go on the other tack, or make some change of course, he called the captain. the moment the latter put his foot upon deck, he found his previous predictions were about to be verified. the rustling noise of the gulf, mingling its solemn sounds with the petrel-like music of that foreboding wind that "whistles through the shrouds," awakened the more superstitious sensations of a sailor's heart. the clouds had gathered their sombre folds into potent conclaves, while the sparkling brine in her wake, seemed like a fiery stream, rolling its troubled foam upon the dark waters.
"brace the yards up sharp-hard a-starboard!--and trim aft the sheets," ordered the captain, who had previously given the order, "all hands on deck!"
the order was scarcely executed, before the noise of the approaching gale was heard in the distance. all hands were ordered to shorten sail as quickly as possible; but before they could get aloft, it came upon them with such fury from e.n.e. as to carry away the foretop-mast and topgallant-mast, together with its sails, and the main-topgallant-mast with the sail. the foretop-mast, in going by the board, carried away the flying-jib-boom and flying-jibs. thus the ill-fated janson was doomed to another struggle for her floating existence. the sea began to rise and break in fearful power; the leak had already increased so, that two men were continually kept working the pumps. the crew, with commendable alacrity, cut away the wreck, which had been swaying to and fro, not only endangering the lives of those on board, but obstructing every attempt to get the vessel into any kind of working order. the main-sail had rent from the leash to the peak of the gaff, and was shaking into shreds. the starboard sheet of the maintop-sail was gone, and it had torn at the head from the bolt-rope, flying at every gust like the shreds of a muslin rag in a hail-storm. without the government of her helm, she lay in the trough of the sea more like a log than a manageable mass. sea after sea broke over her, carrying every thing before them at each pass. the officers and crew had now as much as they could do to retain their holds, without making any effort to save the wreck, while the men at the pumps could only work at each subsiding of the sea, and that under the disadvantage of being lashed to the frame. a more perilous position than that in which the old brig janson now lay, it was impossible to imagine.
"'tis the worst hurricane i've ever experienced upon the west india coast, captain, but it's too furious to last long; and if she don't go to pieces before morning, i'll give her credit for what i've always swore against her. she can't keep afloat though, if it hangs on another hour in this way," said the mate, who, with the captain and manuel, had just made an ineffectual attempt to rig a storm stay-sail, to try and lay her to under it. for the mate swore by his knowledge of her qualities, that to put her before it, would be certain foundering. the gale continued with unabated fury for about two hours, and stopped about as suddenly as it commenced. the work of destruction was complete, for from her water-line to the stump of the remaining spars, the janson floated a complete wreck.
the captain gave orders to clear away the wreck, and get what little sail they could patch up, upon her, for the purpose of working her into the nearest port. the mate was not inclined to further the order, evidently laboring under the strong presentiment that she was to be their coffin. he advised that it was fruitless to stick by her any longer, or hazard an attempt to reach a port with her, in such a leaky and disabled condition. "if we don't abandon her, skipper," said he, "she'll abandon us. we'd better make signal for the first vessel, and bid the old coffin good-by."
the captain was more determined in his resolution, and instead of being influenced by the mate's fears, continued his order, and the men went to work with a cheerful willingness. none seemed more anxious to lend a ready hand than manuel, for in addition to is duties as steward, he had worked at sail-making, and both worked at and directed the repairing of the sails. those acquainted with maritime affairs can readily appreciate the amount of labor necessary to provide a mess with the means at hand that we have before described. and yet he did it to the satisfaction of all, and manifested a restless anxiety lest he should not make everybody comfortable, and particularly his little pet boy, tommy.
"we'll get a good observation at meridian, and then we shall shape our course for charleston, south carolina. we'll be more likely to reach it than any other southern port," said the captain to his mate. "that steward, manuel, is worth his weight in gold. if we have to abandon the old craft, i'll take him home; the owners respect him just as much as a white man; his politeness and affability could not but command such esteem, with a man that a'n't a fool. i never believed in making equals of negroes, but if manuel was to be classed with niggers for all the nigger blood that's in him, seven-tenths of the inhabitants of the earth would go with him. i never saw such an attachment between brothers, as exists between him and tommy. i verily believe that one couldn't go to sleep without the other. i should think they were brothers, if the lad wasn't english, and manuel a portuguese. but manuel is as much an englishman at heart as the lad, and has sailed so long under the flag that he seems to have a reverence for the old jack when he sees the bunting go up. he likes to tell that story about the patagonians chasing him. i have overheard him several times, as much amused in his own recital as if he was listening to the quaint jokes of an old tar. but he swears the patagonians will never catch him on their shores again, for he says he doesn't believe in making 'drum-head of man-skin,'" said the captain, evidently with the intention of affecting the mate's feelings, and drawing his mind from its dark forebodings.
"well, skipper, i pray for a happy deliverance," said the mate, "but if we make charleston with her, it'll be a luck that man nor mermaid ever thought of. i hearn a good deal o' tell about charleston, and the keys. that isn't one of the places our stewards are so 'fraid of, and where owners don't like to send their ships when they can find freight in other ports?"
"i expect it is, sir; but i apprehend no such trouble with any of my crew," answered the captain promptly. "i sail under the faith of my nation's honor and prowess, the same as the americans do under theirs. we're both respected wherever we go, and if one little state in the union violates the responsibility of a great nation like that, i'm mistaken. certainly, no nation in christendom could be found, that wouldn't open their hearts to a shipwrecked sailor. i have too much faith in what i have heard of the hospitality of southerners, to believe any thing of that kind."
"talk's all very well, skipper," said the mate; "but my word for it, i know'd several ships lying in the mersey, about three years ago, bound to southern ports for cotton. white stewards worth any thing couldn't be had for love nor money, and the colored ones wouldn't ship for ports in slaves states. the thebis got a colored man, but the owners had to pay him an enormous advance, and this, too, with the knowledge of his being locked up the whole time he was in port; thus having to incur the very useless expense of supplying his place, or find boarding-house accommodations for the officers and crew. if it be true, what i've hearn 'em say in the mersey, the man doesn't only suffer in his feelings by some sort of confinement they have, but the owners suffer in pocket. but it may be, skipper, and i'm inclined to think with you, our case is certainly deplorable enough to command pity instead of imprisonment. the government must be found cutting a dirty figure on the national picture, that would ill-treat sailors who had suffered as much as our boys have. i would hate to see manuel shut up or ill-used. he's as brave a fellow as ever buckled at a handspike or rode a jib-boom. last night, while in the worst of the gale, he volunteered to take higgins's place, and, mounting the jib-boom, was several times buried in the sea; yet he held on like a bravo, and succeeded in cutting away the wreck. i thought he was gone once or twice, and i own i never saw more peril at sea; but if he hadn't effected it, the foot of the bowsprit would have strained her open in the eyes, and we'd all been sharks'-bait before this. the fellow was nearly exhausted when he came on board; says i, its gone day with you, old fellow; but he come to in a little while, and went cheerily to work again," continued mr. mate, who though pleased with the captain's determination to make the nearest port, seemed to dread that all would not be right in charleston--that the bar was a very intricate one--water very shoal in the ship-channel, and though marked with three distinctive buoys, numbered according to their range, impossible to crops without a skilful pilot. the mate plead a preference for savannah, asserting, according to his own knowlege, that a ship of any draft could cross that bar at any time of tide, and that it was a better port for the transaction of business.
the janson was headed for charleston, the queen city of the sunny south, and, as may be expected from her disabled condition, made very slow progress on her course. during the gale, her stores had become damaged, and on the third day before making charleston light, manuel pereira came aft, and with a sad countenance reported that the last cask of good water was nearly out; that the others had all been stove during the gale, and what remained, so brackish that it was unfit for use. from this time until their arrival at charleston, they suffered those tortures of thirst, which only those who have endured them can estimate.
