Chapter 43 - A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea by Mayne Reid
Refitting the Raft
On once more setting foot on the deck of the Catamaran the strong sailor was so thoroughly exhausted that he was unable to stand erect, and after scrambling aboard, and staggering a pace or two, he lay down along the planks. Lilly Lalee was taken care of by little William; who, half-leading, half-lifting her in his arms, tenderly placed her upon some pieces of canvas near the foot of the mast.
For this service, so fondly yet delicately performed, the boy felt himself amply rewarded by the glance of gratitude that shone in the eyes of the child,—even without the thanks faintly murmured by her on perceiving she was safe.
Snowball, equally exhausted, dropped into a recumbent position. All three remained silent for a considerable length of time, and without stirring either hand or foot,—as though to speak or move in their state of extreme weariness was impossible.
Little William, however, did not resign himself to inaction. As soon as he had disposed of Lalee, he made direct to that corner of the Catamaran where a small barrel or keg, half submerged under the water, was attached to one of the timbers of the craft. It was the keg containing the precious “Canary.”
Carefully extracting the bung,—which, in the lashing of the keg, had been purposely kept upwards,—he inserted a dipper,—that is to say, a small tin vessel, or drinking “taut,”—which had turned up among the stores of the sea-kit, and which, having been already used for the same purpose, was provided with a piece of cord attached around its rim, like the vessel in use among the gaugers or wine-merchants for drawing their wine from the wood. This was hoisted out again, filled with the sweet fluid which the keg contained; and which was at once administered,—first to Lilly Lalee, then to William’s own especial protector, Ben Brace; and lastly, after a fresh draw from the keg, to the real owner of the wine,—the Coromantee. The spirit of the grape, grown upon the declivities of Teneriffe, acted like magic on all three; and in a few minutes both sailor and sea-cook were sufficiently restored to think about taking certain prudent measures, that had now become necessary, and that would require a fresh exertion of their strength.
These measures were the recovery of the empty casks which William had detached from the Catamaran; and for the want of which that improvised craft not only lay much lower in the water than when they had left her, but was altogether a less seaworthy structure.
The sailor’s chest,—for which its owner now felt increased affection,—was the first thing secured; and next the cask upon which Snowball had bestraddled himself to get a better view. Both were near, and easily reached by a little rowing.
The other three casks had drifted to a considerable distance to leeward, and were still continuing their course; but as all three were in sight, the crew of the Catamaran anticipated no great difficulty in overtaking them.
Nor did any occur. A pair of oars handled by the sailor and sea-cook, with the sailor-boy standing up to direct the course in which they should pull, soon brought the raft down upon the straying hogsheads; and they were picked up one after the other, the severed ropes respliced, and all of them set back in their old positions,—so that but for the wet garments clinging around the bodies of those who had been overboard, and perhaps the pale and wearied expression upon their countenances, no one could have told that anything had gone wrong on board the Catamaran.
As to their wet clothes, none of them cared much for that; and if there had been any discomfort in it, it was not likely to continue long under the hot sun then shining down upon them. So rapidly was this part of the damage becoming repaired that all three,—but more especially Snowball—were now surrounded by a cloud of evaporation that would soon dry every stitch of clothing they had on.
The negro,—partly from the natural heat proceeding from his own body, and partly from the strong sunbeams,—was smoking like a fresh kindled pit of charcoal: so that, through the strata of steam that encompassed his head and shoulders, it would have been impossible to tell whether he was black or white. In the midst of this Juno-like nimbus however, the negro continued to talk and act, helping the sailor and little William, until not only were the water-casks restored to their proper places, but the sail was hauled up to the mast, and the Catamaran once more scudding before the breeze, as if not the slightest accident had occurred either to craft or crew.
Care was taken, however, this time to make fast the halliard rope with a proper “belay”; and although Snowball might have deserved a caution to be more vigilant for the future, it was not deemed necessary to administer it, as it was thought the peril out of which they had so miraculously escaped would prove to him a sufficient reminder.
There was but one misfortune arising out of the adventure that might have caused the crew of the Catamaran any serious regret. This was the loss of a large portion of their stock of provisions,—consisting of the dried fish,—partly those that had been half cured by Snowball previous to the union of the two rafts, and partly the flitches of shark-meat, that had been taken from the lesser raft, and added to Snowball’s store.
These, with the object of having them thoroughly dried, had been exposed to the sun, on the tops of the water-casks which little William had let loose. In the hurry and excitement of the moment, it was not likely the lad should give a thought to the flitches of fish. Nor did he; and while freeing the water-casks from their fastenings, and pushing them off from the raft, the pieces were all permitted to slide off into the water, and either swim or go to the bottom, as their specific gravity might dictate. The consequence was, that, when everything else was recovered, these were lost,—having actually gone to the bottom, or floated out of sight; or, what was more probable than either, having been picked up by the numerous predatory birds hovering in the heavens above, or the equally voracious fish quartering the depths of the ocean underneath.
It was not without some chagrin that Snowball contemplated his reduced stores,—a chagrin in which his companions could equally participate. At the time, however, they felt the misfortune less bitterly than they might otherwise have done,—their spirits being buoyed up by the miraculous escape they had just made, as well as by a hope that the larder so spent might be replenished, and by a process similar to that by which it had been originally stocked.