The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg, and Other Stories
ourselves out for a good sleep, but have to take it any way we can get
it.'
Of course this feature will grow more and more trying, but it will be
human nature to cease to set it down; there will be five weeks of it
yet--we must try to remember that for the diarist; it will make our beds
the softer.
May 9 the sun gives him a warning: 'Looking with both eyes, the horizon
crossed thus +.' 'Henry keeps well, but broods over our troubles more
than I wish he did.' They caught two dolphins; they tasted well. 'The
captain believed the compass out of the way, but the long-invisible
north star came out--a welcome sight--and endorsed the compass.'
May 10, 'latitude 7 degrees 0 minutes 3 seconds N., longitude 111
degrees 32 minutes W.' So they have made about three hundred miles of
northing in the six days since they left the region of the lost ship.
'Drifting in calms all day.' And baking hot, of course; I have been
down there, and I remember that detail. 'Even as the captain says,
all romance has long since vanished, and I think the most of us are
beginning to look the fact of our awful situation full in the face.' 'We
are making but little headway on our course.' Bad news from the rearmost
boat: the men are improvident; 'they have eaten up all of the canned
meats brought from the ship, and are now growing discontented.' Not so
with the chief mate's people--they are evidently under the eye of a man.
Under date of May 11: 'Standing still! or worse; we lost more last night
than we made yesterday.' In fact, they have lost three miles of the
three hundred of northing they had so laboriously made. 'The cock that
was rescued and pitched into the boat while the ship was on fire still
lives, and crows with the breaking of dawn, cheering us a good deal.'
What has he been living on for a week? Did the starving men feed him
from their dire poverty? 'The second mate's boat out of water again,
showing that they over-drink their allowance. The captain spoke pretty
sharply to them.' It is true: I have the remark in my old note-book; I
got it of the third mate in the hospital at Honolulu. But there is not
room for it here, and it is too combustible, anyway. Besides, the third
mate admired it, and what he admired he was likely to enhance.
They were still watching hopefully for ships. The captain was a
thoughtful man, and probably did not disclose on them that that was
substantially a waste of time. 'In this latitude the horizon is filled
with little upright clouds that look very much like ships.' Mr. Ferguson
saved three bottles of brandy from his private stores when he left the
ship, and the liquor came good in these days. 'The captain serves out
two tablespoonfuls of brandy and water--half and half--to our crew.' He
means the watch that is on duty; they stood regular watches--four
hours on and four off. The chief mate was an excellent officer--a
self-possessed, resolute, fine, all-round man. The diarist makes the
following note--there is character in it: 'I offered one bottle of
brandy to the chief mate, but he declined, saying he could keep the
after-boat quiet, and we had not enough for all.'
HENRY FERGUSON'S DIARY TO DATE, GIVEN IN FULL:
May 4, 5, 6, doldrums. May 7, 8, 9, doldrums. May 10, 11, 12,
doldrums. Tells it all. Never saw, never felt, never heard, never
experienced such heat, such darkness, such lightning and thunder,
and wind and rain, in my life before.
That boy's diary is of the economical sort that a person might properly
be expected to keep in such circumstances--and be forgiven for the
economy, too. His brother, perishing of consumption, hunger, thirst,
blazing heat, drowning rains, loss of sleep, lack of exercise, was
persistently faithful and circumstantial with his diary from the first
day to the last--an instance of noteworthy fidelity and resolution. In
spite of the tossing and plunging boat he wrote it close and fine, in a
hand as easy to read as print. They can't seem to get north of 7 degrees
N.; they are still there the next day:
May 12. A good rain last night, and we caught a good deal, though
not enough to fill up our tank, pails, &c. Our object is to get
out of these doldrums, but it seems as if we cannot do it. To-day
we have had it very variable, and hope we are on the northern
edge, though we are not much above 7 degrees. This morning we all
thought we had made out a sail; but it was one of those deceiving
clouds. Rained a good deal to-day, making all hands wet and
uncomfortable; we filled up pretty nearly all our water-pots,
however. I hope we may have a fine night, for the captain
certainly wants rest, and while there is any danger of squalls, or
danger of any kind, he is always on hand. I never would have
believed that open boats such as ours, with their loads, could
live in some of the seas we have had.
During the night, 12th-13th, 'the cry of A SHIP! brought us to our
feet.' It seemed to be the glimmer of a vessel's signal-lantern rising
out of the curve of the sea. There was a season of breathless hope while
they stood watching, with their hands shading their eyes, and their
hearts in their throats; then the promise failed: the light was a rising
star. It is a long time ago--thirty-two years--and it doesn't matter
now, yet one is sorry for their disappointment. 'Thought often of those
at home to-day, and of the disappointment they will feel next Sunday at
not hearing from us by telegraph from San Francisco.' It will be
many weeks yet before the telegram is received, and it will come as a
thunderclap of joy then, and with the seeming of a miracle, for it
will raise from the grave men mourned as dead. 'To-day our rations were
reduced to a quarter of a biscuit a meal, with about half a pint of
water.' This is on May 13, with more than a month of voyaging in front
of them yet! However, as they do not know that, 'we are all feeling
pretty cheerful.'
In the afternoon of the 14th there was a thunderstorm, 'which toward
night seemed to close in around us on every side, making it very dark
and squally.' 'Our situation is becoming more and more desperate,' for
they were making very little northing 'and every day diminishes our
small stock of provisions.' They realise that the boats must soon
separate, and each fight for its own life. Towing the quarter-boats is a
hindering business.
That night and next day, light and baffling winds and but little
progress. Hard to bear, that persistent standing still, and the food
wasting away. 'Everything in a perfect sop; and all so cramped, and no
change of clothes.' Soon the sun comes out and roasts them. 'Joe caught
another dolphin to-day; in his maw we found a flying-fish and two
skipjacks.' There is an event, now, which rouses an enthusiasm of hope:
a land-bird arrives! It rests on the yard for awhile, and they can look
at it all they like, and envy it, and thank it for its message. As a
subject of talk it is beyond price--a fresh new topic for tongues tired
to death of talking upon a single theme: Shall we ever see the land
again; and when? Is the bird from Clipperton Rock? They hope so; and
they take heart of grace to believe so. As it turned out the bird had no
message; it merely came to mock.
May 16, 'the cock still lives, and daily carols forth his praise.'
It will be a rainy night, 'but I do not care if we can fill up our
water-butts.'
On the 17th one of those majestic spectres of the deep, a water-spout,
stalked by them, and they trembled for their lives. Young Henry set it
down in his scanty journal with the judicious comment that 'it might
have been a fine sight from a ship.'
From Captain Mitchell's log for this day: 'Only half a bushel of
bread-crumbs left.' (And a month to wander the seas yet.')
It rained all night and all day; everybody uncomfortable. Now came
a sword-fish chasing a bonito; and the poor thing, seeking help and
friends, took refuge under the rudder. The big sword-fish kept hovering
around, scaring everybody badly. The men's mouths watered for him, for
he would have made a whole banquet; but no one dared to touch him,
of course, for he would sink a boat promptly if molested. Providence
protected the poor bonito from the cruel sword-fish. This was just and
right. Providence next befriended the shipwrecked sailors: they got the
bonito. This was also just and right. But in the distribution of mercies
the sword-fish himself got overlooked. He now went away; to muse over
these subtleties, probably. The men in all the boats seem pretty well;
the feeblest of the sick ones (not able for a long time to stand his
watch on board the ship) 'is wonderfully recovered.' This is the third
mate's detested 'Portyghee' that raised the family of abscesses.
Passed a most awful night. Rained hard nearly all the time, and
blew in squalls, accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning from
all points of the compass.--Henry's Log.
Most awful night I ever witnessed.--Captain's Log.
Latitude, May 18, 11 degrees 11 minutes. So they have averaged but
forty miles of northing a day during the fortnight. Further talk of
separating. 'Too bad, but it must be done for the safety of the whole.'
'At first I never dreamed, but now hardly shut my eyes for a cat-nap
without conjuring up something or other--to be accounted for by
weakness, I suppose.' But for their disaster they think they would be
arriving in San Francisco about this time. 'I should have liked to send
B---the telegram for her birthday.' This was a young sister.
On the 19th the captain called up the quarter-boats and said one would
have to go off on its own hook. The long-boat could no longer tow both
of them. The second mate refused to go, but the chief mate was ready;
in fact, he was always ready when there was a man's work to the fore. He
took the second mate's boat; six of its crew elected to remain, and
two of his own crew came with him (nine in the boat, now, including
himself). He sailed away, and toward sunset passed out of sight. The
diarist was sorry to see him go. It was natural; one could have better
spared the 'Portyghee.' After thirty-two years I find my prejudice
against this 'Portyghee' reviving. His very looks have long passed out
of my memory; but no matter, I am coming to hate him as religiously
as ever. 'Water will now be a scarce article, for as we get out of the
doldrums we shall get showers only now and then in the trades. This life
is telling severely on my strength. Henry holds out first-rate.' Henry
did not start well, but under hardships he improved straight along.
Latitude, Sunday, May 20, 12 degrees 0 minutes 9 seconds. They ought
to be well out of the doldrums now, but they are not. No breeze--the
longed-for trades still missing. They are still anxiously watching for
a sail, but they have only 'visions of ships that come to naught--the
shadow without the substance.' The second mate catches a booby this
afternoon, a bird which consists mainly of feathers; 'but as they have
no other meat, it will go well.'
May 21, they strike the trades at last! The second mate catches three
more boobies, and gives the long-boat one. Dinner 'half a can of
mincemeat divided up and served around, which strengthened us somewhat.'
They have to keep a man bailing all the time; the hole knocked in the
boat when she was launched from the burning ship was never efficiently
mended. 'Heading about north-west now.' They hope they have easting
enough to make some of these indefinite isles. Failing that, they think
they will be in a better position to be picked up. It was an infinitely
slender chance, but the captain probably refrained from mentioning that.
The next day is to be an eventful one.