Loe raamatut: «Terry's Trials and Triumphs», lehekülg 3

He awoke next morning to see the last of the Nova Scotian coast disappearing astern, and for the first time in his life to be entirely out of sight of land.

The wind continued favourable all that day and the next, greatly to the satisfaction of Captain Afleck, who wanted to lose no time in making the round trip, as business was brisk between Halifax and Boston then, and the more trips he could put in the better for his pocket.

Terry enjoyed the voyage thoroughly. His duties were not onerous, and out of love for the kind-hearted captain he fulfilled them promptly and neatly. When they were all attended to he had a good margin of time for himself, and he found Captain Afleck ready to talk or to tell stories from his own extensive experience at sea. Then the seamen, of whom there were four, proved very friendly, and seemed always glad of his company; so that everything helped to render the short voyage a real delight to the boy, who did everything in his power to pay his way by good behaviour.

The evening of the fourth day was closing in when the Sea-Slipper entered Massachusetts Bay; and if Captain Afleck had not been so eager to save time, he would have been content with getting inside Boston Light and anchoring there until morning. But he knew the ship-channel well, having often passed up it before, and he determined to push in, although the wind was dropping fast.

The darkness fell before he had cleared Lovel's Island, and the sky being overcast he had only the harbour lights to guide him. Nevertheless he kept on, though it was little better than feeling his way.

The schooner thus crept up as far as Governor's Island, and the city lights began to come into view.

"Ah!" exclaimed Captain Afleck, bringing the palm of his hand down with a smart slap on his thigh as he stood at the wheel, "we'll make the dock to-night yet, even if I have to hail a tug to tow me in."

He had hardly spoken when suddenly there loomed up on the port side the dim form of a huge steamer bearing down on the schooner at full speed; and then it flashed upon the captain that in his eagerness to get into port he had omitted to put up the regulation lights.

There was no time to do it now. The only chance of escaping a collision was to go off on the other tack. Round spun the wheel, and swiftly the men sprang to the sails. But the schooner refused to answer her helm for lack of steerage way, and lay almost motionless right in the steamer's path.

Leaping upon the bulwarks, Captain Afleck shouted with all his strength, —

"Ahoy, there! Keep away, or you'll run us down!"

But even if his warning had been heard, it was too late to heed it; and a minute later, with a tremendous shock, the steamer crashed into the schooner just abaft of the fore-chains.

CHAPTER V
ON BOARD THE "MINNESOTA."

When the crash came, Terry was standing at the stern, a little in front of Captain Afleck, who held the wheel. The shock hurled him to the deck; but he instantly leaped to his feet again, and as he did so the captain's voice rang out, —

"Jump for the martingale, Terry! quick!"

The great bowsprit of the colliding vessel overhung the shattered and sinking schooner like the outreaching branch of a tree. It offered the one possible chance of escape from death. Already two of the sailors were frantically striving for it. Terry had not lost his wits despite the suddenness of the catastrophe. Just before him were the main-shrouds, tense and taut with the tremendous strain upon them. Springing into these, he climbed hand over hand with a celerity born of frequent practice on vessels lying at the docks, until he reached the angles made by the shackling of the martingale stays to the dolphin-striker of the other vessel. Into these he put his feet, and clasping the dolphin-striker tightly with both arms he held on in safety, while with a strange, grinding, crashing sound the big steamer, having regained her impetus after the brief check, passed over the poor Sea-Slipper, sending her down into the dark depths beneath!

The moment his own safety was assured, Terry thought of Captain Afleck, and in the silence which for a moment followed the noise of the collision, his clear, strong voice made itself hoard calling, —

"Captain Afleck, where are you? are you all right?"

It was too dark for him to see beyond the length of his arm, but he hoped that the captain had, like himself, got hold of the steamer somewhere, and thus saved his own life.

Nor was his hope unfounded. Out of the darkness below came the captain's answer, —

"I'm here, Terry, holding on for dear life. Where are you yourself?"

Before Terry could answer there was a flashing of lights above, and eager hands were stretched out holding ropes with a bight at the end, one of which Terry caught, while another was grasped by the captain, and presently they were both drawn up to the deck amid the cheers of a crowd of sailors anxiously watching the operation.

Not only so, but in like manner two of the sailors were found clinging to the bowsprit rigging. The other two, unhappily, were in the forecastle at the time of the collision, and before they could reach the deck their chance was gone, and the poor fellows had been drawn down to death with the ill-fated schooner.

As soon as Captain Afleck had got his feet firmly on the deck, he looked about at the circle of smiling sailors, and with as cheerful an expression as though being run down were quite a common experience, he exclaimed, —

"Well, you did me up on short notice; and serve me well right too, I suppose, for not having my lights up. But who may you be, and where away?"

A jaunty little midshipman who had just pressed his way through the crowd responded at once, —

"We're the United States war-ship Minnesota, and we're extremely sorry we ran you down; but you had no lights out, you know, and we didn't see you until we were right upon you. Are you all safe? I'm sure I hope so."

Captain Afleck looked round about him, and then, with a sorrowful shake of his head, replied, —

"We're all here but two. Joe and Alec were in the foc'sle when you struck us, and I guess they hadn't time to get out. Poor chaps! it's a mean way to die, ain't it? – like rats in a hole."

The look of importance on the middy's face changed to one of genuine concern at this, and with a courteous bow he said, —

"Will you please come astern and be presented to the captain?"

As they traversed the deck, Terry's keen eyes would have told him the character of the vessel on board which he had been thus suddenly and strangely flung, so to speak, even if the boyish officer, who seemed little older than himself, had not already done so.

The long black cannon stood close together upon their heavy carriages, with everything at hand, ready for immediate action if need be. Stands of rifles were ranged around the masts and the base of the funnels; and the whole ship had the appearance, as revealed by the light of many lanterns, of being in readiness for an expected foe.

More than one ship similarly equipped had Terry seen in Halifax harbour, and being, like all the other boys of the city, a fervent sympathizer with the South in the lamentable Civil War, he had cordially hated them, and heartily wished them at the bottom of the sea.

Now, by an odd stroke of fate, he found himself a waif on board one of these very vessels, and he didn't like the idea at all. Blinded by his prejudice in favour of their antagonists, he had been wont to look upon the Northern men as ruffians and bullies and cut-throats. Naturally enough, he felt some apprehensions as to his safety in their midst.

But there was no retreat for him now. He had no alternative save to accept the situation, which, to his credit be it told, he strove to do with a brave countenance, even though it hid a beating heart.

Following in the wake of Captain Afleck, who on his part was troubled with no such misgivings, his relations with the New England people having always been so satisfactory that his sympathies leaned to their side in the struggle, Terry presently was ushered into a roomy and handsome cabin, brilliantly lit, where several officers in rich uniform were seated at a table, listening to a report of the collision just being presented by the navigating lieutenant, who had been on the bridge at the time.

The entrance of two of the survivors of the disaster caused the officers to rise to their feet, and the one who evidently held the highest rank to say in a tone of sincere interest, as he held out his hand, —

"I presume you are the captain of the schooner we have been so unfortunate as to collide with. I assure you I profoundly regret the mishap. If the blame lies with us, you may rely upon my giving you every assistance in obtaining due reparation. Won't you please be seated?"

Not deeming himself included in this invitation, and finding the atmosphere of the brilliant cabin by no means congenial, Terry beat a retreat to the maindeck, leaving Captain Afleck to give his version of the Sea-Slipper's disaster.

On the deck he was soon surrounded by a number of the sailors, who questioned him about the schooner, and why no lights had been hung out. He felt very ill at ease amongst them for the reason indicated, but knew better than to show it, and answered every question as promptly and as fully as was possible; so that the sailors voted him quite a bright chap, and one of them was moved to ask, —

"Say, young fellow, wouldn't you like to be one of us? I reckon ye could join all right, for there's none too many boys aboard just now, and there's more wanted."

To this proposition Terry gave such an emphatic negative as to rather raise the ire of the speaker, who, growing red with indignation, exclaimed, —

"Consarn you, my young turkey-cock, you needn't be so touchy. Better boys than you would be glad enough of the chance."

Now it was not because he thought himself above the business that Terry had so flatly declined the sailor's suggestion, although of course the prospect that had opened out before him at Drummond and Brown's had entirely banished the notion he once cherished of following the sea. His reason was simply his antipathy to the North, which rendered the idea of entering its service most unwelcome.

With a boy's rashness, he was about to say something in reply to the sailor's taunt that would have made clear his mind in the matter, and probably got him into trouble for being a "Secesh" sympathizer, when happily at that moment Captain Afleck appeared and called him to him.

Terry instantly noted the gravity of his face, and felt sure that he had some bad news to tell; and so indeed it proved for both of them.

The war-ship Minnesota, on which they were passengers in spite of themselves, was on her way to Hampton Roads, Virginia, to strengthen the Federal naval force there, it having been reported that some novel and menacing additions had recently been made to the Confederate navy. As an attack was expected any day, the Minnesota had orders to proceed with the utmost speed direct to Hampton Roads. It was, consequently, impossible for her to land the survivors of the collision, and there was no alternative but for them to accompany her to her destination, and get back to Boston from there as best they might manage.

For both the captain and Terry this was a very distressing state of affairs. The former's presence would be required at once in Boston, to prepare his claim against the company in which his vessel was insured; while the latter burned with impatience to get back to Halifax, and right himself at Drummond and Brown's.

"We're in a fix, and no mistake, Terry," said Captain Afleck, cracking the knuckles of his big horny hands after a fashion he had when perplexed of mind. "Of course, the captain of this ship is not to blame. He's got his orders, and he's bound to obey them, particularly seeing it's war time. But it's mighty hard, all the same, for a fellow to be lugged off like this against his will, and to run the risk of being killed into the bargain."

"Bein' killed!" exclaimed Terry, with a startled look on his face. "Sure, an' what do you mane by that?"

"There now, my boy, don't get scared," replied the captain soothingly. "I didn't mean to tell you just now, but it slipped out unbeknownst to me. You see, it's this way. This war-ship's bound for Hampton Roads, where there's goin' to be a big fight right away, if it hasn't begun already, and it's not likely she'll have a chance to land us before she goes into the thick of it herself; consequently, if it all comes out as the captain expects – and he spoke right to me like an honest man – why, Terry, we're in for a battle, that's all, and not one of our own choosin' either."

The dismay expressed on Terry's countenance would have been comical enough but for the real gravity of the situation. There would, of course, be no call upon the two Nova Scotians to take any part in the conflict. But they would necessarily have to share the danger with the others on board, and they could not expect the shot and shell or flying splinters to make any distinction on their behalf.

"Oh, but that's terrible altogether!" lamented poor Terry. "It's kilt we'll be for sure, and" – here his voice suddenly took a note of indignation, as if fate had been entirely too unkind – "on board a Yankee man-of-war, too! Now, if it might be on a – "

Captain Afleck's hand suddenly clapped over his mouth cut off the rest of the sentence.

"Whist, you young imp," he said in a deep whisper; "keep that to yourself, will you? You'll get knocked on the head if you talk that way here."

He was evidently alarmed at the boy's rashness, and looked anxiously around to see if the words had been overheard. As it chanced, the sailor who had proposed to Terry to join the crew was passing at the moment, and did catch his injudicious remark; but although he had stopped to listen with pricked ears, he was somewhat in doubt as to the boy's exact meaning, and would have liked to hear more. Captain Afleck's prompt action, however, having disappointed him in this, he moved on, but with a scowl on his face that boded ill for Terry should he be found expressing Southern sympathy in a more decided manner.

Having read his youthful companion a lecture upon the necessity of keeping his own counsel, Captain Afleck proceeded to lay out the course of action he proposed to follow.

"We've got to stay by this ship for the present, Terry, that's clear. But I don't mean to go into action with her if I can any way help myself. So I'll just keep a sharp look-out for a chance to get ashore as soon as we make Hampton Roads. There'll be sure to be some shore-boats coming off to us, and I'll get a passage in one of them."

"And leave me here?" cried Terry, laying hold of his arm with both hands, as though he thought he were about to go at once.

"No, you young rogue," responded the captain, taking him by the collar and shaking him just for fun; "of course not. I won't go without you, seein' that I'm mainly to blame for your being here."

Greatly relieved in his mind, and putting implicit faith in his big friend's ability to get them both out of their present complications, Terry, with the volatility of his race, dismissed all further concern on that point from his mind, and stood ready for the next thing that might turn up.

His was a happy nature in many ways. He liked the idea that "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." He was not given to taking much thought for the morrow. To do this was one of the lessons in life he had to learn. In the meantime he lived in the present hour, getting the most out of it he knew how, and leaving the future to take care of itself.

That night he had nothing better than a coil of rope for a bed and a bit of tarpaulin for a coverlet; but he slept as soundly as if on his straw mattress at home, and woke up in the morning with an appetite that many a millionaire might envy.

Awaking at dawn next morning, he hastened on deck to find the powerful Minnesota steaming at full speed southward, with the coast hardly visible on the right. His heart sank as he realized that every minute was taking him further from home, and nearer the indefinite dangers which he must share so long as he remained on board the war-ship.

He had gone up to the bow, and was leaning over the bulwarks lost in perplexing thought, when a voice behind him said tauntingly, —

"Well, young 'un, have you been thinkin' over what I said about taking service with us?"

And Terry turned round to face the sailor who had overheard his interrupted utterance the night before.

He did not at all like the look of the man. He had a crafty, cruel face, and apparently relished the prospect of having a good chance to tease the Bluenose boy who had been thrown in his way. The North was well aware how strongly sympathy with the South ran in Halifax; and as Terry came from that city, the Yankee sailor would have taken it for granted that the boy sided with the enemy, even though he had had no other ground for the belief.

Not knowing what reply to make, Terry discreetly kept silence, and his questioner continued, —

"You're kinder bashful, I reckon, and don't like to say how glad you'd be of the chance."

Now this, of course, was far from being Terry's state of mind, as the sailor well knew; yet the boy shrank from admitting it. Had the place been Long Wharf, he would not have hesitated for a moment to give a Roland for the other's Oliver, and then trusted to his legs to carry him out of danger. But on the deck of the sailor's own ship it was an altogether different matter.

His position was certainly calculated to teach him a fine lesson in self-control. But it is very doubtful if he would have been equal to the strain. Happily, before he was tempted overmuch, Captain Afleck appeared upon the scene, and taking in the situation at a glance, called him to him, as though he had something to communicate of importance.

Glad of this diversion, Terry turned his back upon the sailor, and joined the captain, who, when they had moved apart a little, proceeded to say, —

"You mustn't be talkin' with the sailors, my boy, any more than you can help, or you'll be puttin' your foot in it for sure. They're a mighty touchy lot, I can tell you; and if they find you letting on that you want the Southerners to win, there's no sayin' how hot they'll make it for you."

Terry promised to be careful, adding with a rueful face, —

"Oh! but it's meself that wants to be off the botherin' ship. Sure I never axed to be aboard her, and it's sick I am of her entirely."

Captain Afleck could not keep back a laugh. The boy seemed so deeply concerned about his perplexities whenever he stopped to think of them, although he could forget them so completely when something else engaged his mind.

"Keep your heart up, Terry," he said, in a cheering tone. "We're on a losin' tack now seemingly, but we may 'bout ship soon. Come along with me and see if they won't give us some breakfast."

They found a ready welcome at one of the sailors' messes, and a big piece of bread washed down with steaming coffee perceptibly lightened Terry's spirits, for the time being at all events.

All that day and the next the Minnesota maintained her strenuous speed; and as the afternoon wore on, the signs of bustle and excitement on board, and the earnest way in which the men talked together, showed that they were rapidly nearing their destination.

The approach of battle is a serious enough matter when the forces on both sides are pretty well known, and the character of the undertaking can be at least measurably estimated; but it is a very different matter when neither of these things is known, and when the affair is very much of a leap in the dark.

Now this was just the state of things on the Minnesota. No one on board, not even her captain, had any clear knowledge of the perils and difficulties to be encountered. The Confederate naval force might be found overwhelmingly strong or miserably weak. Moreover, there were certain disturbing rumours afloat about an alarming novelty, in the way of a naval monster, against which no wooden vessel would have the slightest chance. Of this mystery the Norfolk navy-yard still held the secret, although it was generally believed to be about ripe for revelation.