<SPAN name="chap06"></SPAN>
<h3>Chapter Six.</h3>
<h4>The Fate of the “Amazon.”</h4>
<p>The man who, in this unexpected manner, brought me intelligence of my father, belonged to the crew of one of the visiting captains’ boats, and a word or two of explanation was sufficient to procure the delay in the boat’s departure necessary to permit the fellow to tell his story.</p>
<p>In order to be a little more alone, Bob (who was, in a few words, made acquainted with the facts of the case), the seaman, and I went down over the side to the <i>Water Lily’s</i> deck, when, as soon as we had comfortably bestowed ourselves, the man thus began:</p>
<p>“You must know, gentlemen, to commence with, that I was shipped, among others, on board the <i>Amazon</i> at Canton. Dysentery was awful bad among the crews just at that time, and no less than seven was ashore from our old barkie bad, when she left. Two chaps run as soon as she got in, and couldn’t be found agin; so there was nine berths in the fo’c’sle to be filled when she was ready to sail. As I was savin’, I was one of the new hands shipped. Englishmen was scarce somehow just then, and the skipper had to take what he could get. Consequence was, he shipped three Portuguese, a Spaniard, a Greek, two Frenchmen, and a Yankee, besides myself. The third mate was ashore bad, and the second mate had died, so the Yankee (who seemed a smartish sort of chap) was made second mate, and one of the old fo’c’sle men was put into the third mate’s berth. When we got aboard, we found the hatches on, and all ready for a start, and that same a’ternoon we unmoored, and away we went.</p>
<p>“We was the first ship as went away with any of the new teas, and the skipper was awful anxious for a quick run home. We carried on night and day; but the weather was light with us, and we didn’t get along half as such a smart ship ought to ha’ done, for she was a reg’lar flyer, as perhaps you gentlemen both knows.</p>
<p>“Well, we hadn’t been out above a week when, whether ’twas worryin’ at the light winds, or what ’twas I can’t say, but the poor skipper was laid on his beam-ends with fever, and it took the chief-mate all his time to prevent his jumping overboard. However, it didn’t seem to matter so much, so far as the ship was consarned, for the Yankee second mate turned out to be a first-rate navigator, and he in a way took charge of the craft.</p>
<p>“Well, gentlemen, how it all came about, I can’t say, for I never noticed anything wrong. True, some of the chaps talked a bit queer to me at times; but I thought ’twas all a bit of a flam; but, howsomever, one fine night my Yankee gentleman and the new hands takes the ship. At eight bells in the first watch, the watch below was called; and as soon as they came on deck three on ’em goes straight over and jines the mutineers without a word; so it was clear as ’twas all planned afore among ’em. That left only three whites out of the plot—the Lascars had all been bribed or frightened into jining in with t’others—and, out of us three, two was lying on deck, lashed hands and heels together when I come up through the fore-scuttle.</p>
<p>“The minute my foot touched the deck, I was tripped up and secured before I was fairly awake, and stowed alongside of the two other chaps. Then my noble Yankee, he steps up and stands in front of us three, and he says, says he, ‘Now, you chaps, you see how it is; we’ve got the ship and we means to keep her; and we’ve made up our minds to do a little bit of pirating; make our fortunes; and then cut the sea and live like gentlemen for the rest of our days ashore. If you’ve a mind to jine us, well and good; if not, there’s a plank sticking over the bows, and I’ll be obliged to trouble you to take a short walk on it for the benefit of your constitooshuns. You’ve got five minutes allowed to make up your minds.’</p>
<p>“When the time was up, one of the chaps was unlashed, and the Yankee asks him what he intends to do.</p>
<p>“‘I’ll walk that — plank, if I must,’ says he; ‘but I hope I’m too honest to turn my hand to your — pirating,’ says he.</p>
<p>“‘Ah right,’ says the Yankee; ‘just as you please; there’s no compulsion; only if you’re so confounded honest,’ says he, ‘you’ll have to leave this here ship,’ says he, ‘for we can’t afford the room to stow away sich a bulky article as honesty. That’s your road, and a pleasant passage to ye,’ says he, pointin’ to the plank.</p>
<p>“Poor Bill—I can see him now, it seems to me—he stood for about half a minute looking far away into the moonlit sky, thinking of his friends, maybe, if he had any; and then, without a word, he steps to the rail, puts his hands upon it, jumps up on to the top of the bulwarks, and next minute there was a splash alongside, and he was gone.</p>
<p>“T’other chap was then cast adrift, and <i>he</i> was asked the same question.</p>
<p>“‘I’ve sailed with Bill,’ says he, ‘for nigh on six years, and never knew a truer-hearted shipmate, or a better seaman,’ says he; ‘and since it <i>must</i> be, here goes,’ says he, ‘to take our last cruise in company.’</p>
<p>“And he too jumps upon the rail just as Bill did, and, without waitin’ a second, launches himself overboard a’ter him.</p>
<p>“It was now my turn. I’d been thinking matters over in my mind whilst all this was going on; and I’ll confess I found it hard to make up my mind to die. ‘Whilst there’s life there’s hope,’ thinks I; ‘and it can but come to a launch over the side at last, if the worst comes to the worst;’ so when they asked me what I intended to do, says I. ‘Tell me, first of all, what’s become of the skipper?’ says I.</p>
<p>“‘He’s below in his bunk,’ says the Yankee, ‘and the mate with him, and there they’re welcome to stay so long as they don’t interfere with us,’ says he, ‘and I’ll take good care they don’t,’ says he. ‘But what’s that to do with you?’</p>
<p>“‘Well,’ says I, ‘I likes the skipper; he’s been a good friend to me, and I couldn’t be content to see harm come to him. If you’ll promise to shove him ashore all safe,’ says I, ‘I don’t mind taking a hand in your little game.’</p>
<p>“‘Very sensible indeed,’ says the Yankee; ‘you’ve a darned sight better notions in your head than they two stupid cusses as has just gone over the side with nothin’ to ballast ’em but their—honesty,’ says he; ‘and as for the skipper—make your mind easy. We’ve no grudge agin him; all we wants is the ship; and now we’ve got her, we means to put the skipper and the mate both ashore somewheres where they can be snug and comfortable like together, but where there’ll be no chance of our hearin’ anything more from ’em for the rest of their lives.’</p>
<p>“And that’s the way it was all settled,” continued the man. “I made up my mind I’d never do no pirating if I could help it; and I thought maybe if I stuck to the craft, I might be able to help the skipper a bit somehow, and if ever I got a chance, why, I’d make a clean run for it, and I reckoned I should find a way to do that the first port we touched at.</p>
<p>“Well, as soon as matters was arranged, the Yankee takes the command, and makes the Greek chief-mate; the watches was divided, the course altered, and away we goes to the east’ard, on the starboard tack, with a taut bowline and everything set as would draw, from the skysails down. One hand is told off from each watch to keep a look-out in the cabin; and the steward has his orders to do everything he could for the poor skipper. He had a hard time of it, poor man, for when he was getting better, and the truth couldn’t any longer be kept from him, the mate told him what had happened, and the news took him so completely aback that he got as bad as ever again, and the wonder is that he didn’t slip his cables altogether. However, he managed to hold on to ’em, and at last the fever left him; but he was that weak he hadn’t strength to turn over in his berth without help.</p>
<p>“All this time we were going to the east’ard, or about east-south-east, with everything set that the spars would bear. At last, about a month or maybe five weeks after the mutiny—I didn’t keep much account of the time—we fetches up, all standing, one dark night, upon a coral reef, before we knowed where we was. There warn’t much sea on, and we happened to touch where there was nearly water enough to float us; so we bumped and thumped gradually right over the reef into deep water—at least about ten fathoms—on t’other side. The well was sounded, and we found five feet of water in the hold; so, as there was land of some sort close aboard of us, the Yankee rams her straight on to it to save her from sinking under us.</p>
<p>“When daylight broke, we found ourselves on the sandy beach of a small island, with reefs all round us; but a space of about a quarter to half a mile of clear water everywhere between the reefs and the island.</p>
<p>“The cargo was roused out, and the ship examined, as well as it could be done, to learn the extent of the damage, for the Yankee talked about careening her to repair her bottom; but we soon found that the job was too much for us. So we stayed on the island about a week, fitting out the launch and the pinnace; and when all was ready, and everything stowed in the boats that it was thought we should want, we made sail to the nor’ard and east’ard; not, however, until the rest of the boats had been destroyed, and the skipper and mate made all snug and comfortable like in a tent ashore.”</p>
<p>“Then you were inhuman enough,” exclaimed I, “to leave my poor father, sick as he was, on a desert island?”</p>
<p>“He was better off there than he would ha’ been with us,” replied the man. “The island was a first-rate spot, with cocoa-nuts and bananas, and lots of other fruits, no end; plenty of fresh water, and the bulk of the ship’s stores to draw from. It was a <i>lovely</i> spot; lots of shade, pure air, and pretty nigh everything a man could want, what with the stores, and the fruit, and so on. He <i>must</i> have died, had we taken him away in the boats, for the sun beat down upon us <i>awful</i>, and the heat was reflected back from the surface of the water to that extent we was nearly roasted.</p>
<p>“Well, we’d been to sea nigh on to three weeks, and was getting pretty short of water, though we touched at a couple of islands and filled up again, on our way, when one evening—there wasn’t a breath of air blowing—we sighted a sail to the nor’ard of us. She was becalmed, like ourselves.</p>
<p>“The Yankee takes a good long look at her, or at least at her to’gallants’ls, which was all we could see, and then tells us he’d made up his mind to have a slap at the chap during the night. We carefully took her bearings, dowsed our canvas, and pulled leisurely towards her. At last, when we thought we were beginning to near her, we muffled our oars, and then paddled on again, both boats within oar’s length of each other.</p>
<p>“We pulled for about an hour, and then waited for some sign of her whereabouts—for we reckoned we must be close aboard of her—but it was that dark you couldn’t see the length of your nose. After waiting a goodish spell—none of us speaking a word for fear of giving an alarm—we hears eight bells struck, somewhere away upon our port quarter.</p>
<p>“We had passed her, so we pulled very quietly round and just paddled in the direction we thought she was lying. In about five minutes the Yankee says, ‘I see her,’ says he; and we stopped paddling. The pinnace was hanging on astern of us, so’s we shouldn’t lose one another in the dark; and she was hauled up, the men in her told what to do, and the ship pointed out to them; and then we pulled away very quietly again.</p>
<p>“By this time we could just make out a dim something towering up in the darkness, which we knew to be her sails. In another minute our boat was alongside on her starboard quarter, and the pinnace on her larboard quarter; we shinned up her low sides, and before the watch on deck could rub their eyelids open, we had her.</p>
<p>“She turned out to be a little Yankee brig, with a cargo of sandalwood, and was bound to Canton.</p>
<p>“Some of her crew joined us, the rest—the poor skipper and the first mate among ’em—was hove overboard, and the sharks had a good meal. She mounted four sixes, and had a well-stocked arm-chest, so that, with the arms we brought with us from the old <i>Amazon</i>, we was pretty well off. We mustered a good strong crew too—twenty-nine altogether, counting the Lascars—so, as the brig was a beautiful model, and, we soon found, sailed like a witch, our skipper decided to set up for a pirate at once.</p>
<p>“Well, gentlemen, it kept stark calm for two whole days after we’d took the brig, and Johnson—that was the Yankee’s name, Edward Johnson—he kept us all busy during that time disguising the craft, by painting the hull and spars afresh, and such like; and the carpenter he was sent over the starn on a stage to fix a plank over the name, on which he’d carved a lot of flourishes and such like, and the word <i>Albatross</i>, which was what Johnson had re-christened her, and by the time we’d finished, her own builder wouldn’t have knowed her.</p>
<p>“After everything was finished to his satisfaction, he calls us all aft, and tells us that he’d been thinking matters over, and he’d decided to take the ship to Hong-Kong, and get rid of the sandalwood there, and get a lot of things that was wanted to complete our outfit, and make us fit for a good long cruise.</p>
<p>“Accordin’ly, as soon as the breeze sprang up, away we goes, never falling in with anything as Johnson thought it worth his while to meddle with all the way.</p>
<p>“We had a pretty quick run, for the brig sailed quite wonderful; and all the while I was turning over in my mind how to get away. I intended to take the first chance as offered, as soon as we got in; but Johnson was a ’cute chap, none of us was let out of the ship any more’n he could help, and then only they as he knowed he could trust.</p>
<p>“At last the cargo was out and the ballast in, the brig cleared for the South Pacific, and everything ready for sailing next morning, and I’d had no chance to get away, and I was beginning to think things were looking queer with me. But I didn’t give up all hope, for I knowed a chance <i>might</i> offer at the last minute, if I was but ready to take it.</p>
<p>“Some time during the night I woke up and went on deck for a minute or two, and found it as black as pitch. There wasn’t a soul moving in the ship. I don’t know where the anchor watch was; stowed away asleep somewheres, likely. Anyhow, I thought to myself that now was my chance, so, without waiting another minute, I climbs over the bows, and lets myself quietly down into the water by the cable. As soon as I was adrift, I lets the tide take me, for I was afraid of makin’ so much as a splash whilst I was near the ship. I drifted astern for about five minutes, and then struck out. I hadn’t taken no bearings, and didn’t know where the shore was; but I saw a few lights, and I shaped a course for them.</p>
<p>“But after I’d swam about a matter of twenty minutes I found I was farther away from ’em than I was when I started; and then the thought flashed into my mind that the tide must be on the ebb, and that I was going out to sea. I was so took aback that I went under. But I didn’t feel like giving up without I was obliged; so I struggled to the top of the water again, and then turned over on my back to think matters over a bit. But I didn’t find much encouragement that way; and I was beginning to think it was all up with me—’specially as I was getting pretty tired—when I heard a sound some distance away, like a coil of rope hove down on deck.</p>
<p>“I started to swim in the direction of the sound, and after perhaps about five minutes I makes out something away on my port bow. I gives a shout as loud as I could, and that sends me under again; so I soon found that game wouldn’t answer.</p>
<p>“However, I stretched out as hard as I could, and got alongside; but there warn’t nothing to take hold of, and she slips past me. I was too done up to sing out again; but I starts to swim after her, when I strikes my head against something, and it turns out to be a boat towing astern. I got hold of the gunnel, and managed somehow to get aboard, and then down I goes into the bottom of her, too exhausted to do anything.</p>
<p>“I dropped off to sleep pretty soon, and was only woke up when the chaps came to hoist their boat in.</p>
<p>“The craft turned out to be a coasting junk, bound to Shanghai, as I managed to make out, but not another syllable could I understand of their lingo or they of mine ’twould seem.</p>
<p>“Blest if the very next night we wasn’t run down by something or other—I never knowed what ’twas, for they hadn’t the good manners to stop and pick us up.</p>
<p>“The mainmast of the junk was knocked out of her in the smash, and I managed to get hold of it and lash myself to it, just in the eyes of the rigging. The yard happened to be undermost, and so I had a pretty good berth.</p>
<p>“I floated about on that — spar for four days and nights without a bit or drop of anything, and then my senses broke adrift, and I knew nothing more of what happened to me for some time.</p>
<p>“When I came to myself I found I was on board a Dutch ship, homeward-bound. It turned out that they passed close to my spar, and seein’ me lashed to it they picked me up.</p>
<p>“At least so I made it out; but I knew no Dutch, and there was only one chap aboard that thought he knowed English; but Lord bless ye, gentlemen, <i>I</i> couldn’t make top nor tail of what he said. I managed to make out hows’ever that I’d had a narrow squeak of it, and that’s about all.</p>
<p>“By the time I was able to get about on deck again, we was well out in the Indian Ocean, and everything seemed going on all right; but, as it turned out, it was all <i>wrong</i>, for early one morning we makes land ahead, the wind bein’ light and dead on shore.</p>
<p>“The skipper hauled sharp up on the port tack to try and claw off; but a current had got hold of us, and away we sagged to leeward, do what we would, and at last we had to anchor.</p>
<p>“By-and-by the breeze freshened; but we was in a very ugly berth, and the skipper didn’t like to make a move.</p>
<p>“However, we didn’t have a chance to settle the matter for ourselves, for just about sunset the old barkie struck adrift, and, before we could get the canvas on her, she was in among the rocks and bilged.</p>
<p>“We all got ashore, there bein’ no great matter of a sea running, and, to make a long story short, was made prisoners by the natives. What become of the rest of the hands I never knowed—they may be there yet for all I can say. An old chap picked me out, and made a sort of servant of me, and, on the whole, I had pretty easy times of it I got to find out, at last, that I was somewhere on the island of Madagascar.</p>
<p>“I stayed here nigh on two years, I reckon; but at last I got a chance to steal a canoe and slip off to a small craft that was becalmed in the offing. She was luckier than the Dutchman, as we got a breeze off the land about an hour after I boarded her.</p>
<p>“She was bound to the Cape, and there I left her, shipping the very same day in the craft I now belong to, and sailing for home the same a’ternoon.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said I, as soon as the man had finished, “if your story is true—and I see no reason to doubt it—<i>you</i> at least are blameless as far as the wrong done to my father is concerned. The only question now is, whereabouts is the island on which he was left?”</p>
<p>“Ah, sir,” replied he, “that’s more’n I can tell. I <i>did</i> hear Johnson mention the latitude and longitude of it once; but I’m blest if I can remember ’em now.”</p>
<p>I was determined, however, to get <i>some</i> clue if possible, however faint it might be; and I took him into our little cabin, and spread a chart of the Pacific on the table. Then I got him to recall, as nearly as he could, the courses and distances steered by the <i>Amazon</i> until the time of her wreck.</p>
<p>We managed to trace her as far as the north-western extremity of New Guinea, the man happening to remember hearing Johnson point out some land in sight as the Cape of Good Hope.</p>
<p>This must manifestly have been the headland of that name on the north-west coast of New Guinea; but from this point he became bewildered. He remembered passing a great many islands after sighting this headland, however, and was of opinion that the average courses steered were about south-east, and he thought it was nearly a month afterwards when the ship was lost.</p>
<p>This placed the scene of the wreck on one of the islands in the large group in which we expected to find our treasure-island.</p>
<p>I questioned the fellow until I found I had extracted really every particle of information it was in his power to give, and then, after rewarding him for his information, I let him go.</p>
<p>As soon as he was gone, I wrote a hasty note to my sister, cautiously conveying to her the intelligence that we had obtained a faint trace of the <i>Amazons</i> fate; a trace which, I added, we intended to follow up as far as we could, and having sealed and addressed my missive, I hurried up over the barque’s side, and placed it in her captain’s hands, and then took leave of him with a hearty shake of the hand and many good wishes on his part that we might have a safe and pleasant voyage.</p>
<p>It was time we were off, for a gentle breeze was springing up, and all parties were anxious to avail themselves of it to the utmost extent. As soon as we had once more got all our light canvas spread, Bob, instead of turning in as he had a right to do, it being his watch below, came and sat down beside me, and we began to discuss the strange story to which we had so lately listened.</p>
<p>“It has enabled me definitely to make up my mind upon one point, which I will now confess has troubled me not a little,” said I, “and that is your proposal to go round the ‘Horn,’ Bob. Ever since we settled upon that route, I have been thinking of the great risks we must run by adopting such a course, and I really think that, but for this, I should have hauled sharp up upon the port tack as soon as we fell in with the south-east trades. <i>Now</i>, however, I feel so anxious about my father, and his condition, that I would incur double the amount of risk, if need were, in order to reach the Pacific as soon as possible, and, Bob, we must find <i>him</i> before we give a thought to the treasure.</p>
<p>“Right you are,” exclaimed Bob heartily; “and there’s my hand upon it, Harry, my lad. The treasure can wait; but it may be of the greatest consequence to the skipper to be found as soon as possible. He may be ill, or tormented by a parcel of cannibal savages, or a thousand things may be happening to him to make it important for him to have a couple of trustworthy hands like ourselves added to his crew as soon as may be. So shove the huzzey’s nose as straight for the Cape as she’ll look, and let’s get that part of the job over as soon as we can. And as to the <i>danger</i> of the expl’ite, we’ll weather it somehow. The little beauty has showed us already what she can do, and with a couple of prime seamen—which I take it no man will deny <i>we</i> are—to handle her, take my word for it, she’ll carry us round as safe as e’er a craft that floats.”</p>
<p>“There’s another thing I’ve been thinking of within the last hour,” continued I. “We talked of going into Buenos Ayres when we first made up our minds to take the route round the Horn; but even that short detention I should now like to avoid if possible. Want of water is really the only cause which would <i>compel</i> us to call there, though I confess I should like to write a line to Ada from thence, to let her know we had safely reached so far—”</p>
<p>“As to the first,” interrupted Bob, “I feel no consarn whatever. We are pretty certain to fall in with heavy rains afore we get very far south; and if the wind happens to be light we can easily spread one of the sails so as to catch the water, and one good heavy thunder-shower would fill our tank for us, and as to letters, why, we shall perhaps have such another chance as this here that we’ve just had, and that disposes of the second difficulty. If we <i>don’t</i> get any rain before, there’s a splendid harbour on the southernmost side of the Gulf of Saint Matias, hereaway on our starboard-bow, somewheres about two or three days’ sail to the south’ard of Buenos Ayres, and we can fill up our water there. I’ve been into the place once, and a fine snug anchorage it is.”</p>
<p>This was a great relief to me, for in my present feverish state of excitement it seemed to me that any stoppage, unless absolutely unavoidable, would be more than I could endure.</p>
<p>By this time it was Bob’s watch on deck; but I felt that it would be utterly impossible to sleep if I turned in, so I insisted that he should go below instead, and, after some argument, he consented.</p>
<p>In about ten minutes more, certain sounds arising through the companion told me that my friend was too thorough a seaman to be kept awake by excitement, and I found myself alone and at liberty to indulge in the new hopes which had so lately been awakened within my breast.</p>
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