"I yield! I yield me!" he cried; and though he was a tall man, Peter lifted him up as he had done the others, and handed him to us. He lay quiet enough in the bottom of the boat, regarding the wreck he was leaving with a stare of wonder.

Three other men were lifted in, but still the mate refused to leave while any remained alive on board. As we were leaving the wreck a second time, a man lifted himself up from the deck, and stood for a moment gazing at us.

"What! again deserted!" he exclaimed, shrieking frantically. "Oh, take me! take me!" and staggering forward, before the mate could prevent him he cast himself headlong into the sea. We endeavoured to put back, but he floated scarcely a moment, and then the foaming waters closed over his head. It was another of the numberless instances I have witnessed of the crime and folly of not waiting with calmness and resignation for what the Almighty has in his providence prepared for us. I trust that the poor man's mind had given way in this instance; but even that result is often produced by a want of reliance on G.o.d's mercy.

We put our hapless freight on board the brig, and a third time returned to the wreck. Besides the brave mate, Peter found only two more people alive on board. Several were dead. At the earnest solicitation of the mate, Peter helped him to commit them to the deep. It was a melancholy and loathsome task, for some had been long dead.

The delay also was of serious consequence. More than once I summoned Peter, for another thick squall of rain had come on, and when I glanced round for an instant to look for the brig, she was nowhere to be seen!

A pang of dread ran through my heart, and all sorts of horrid ideas rushed into my head. I thought that the squall might have struck her, and that she might have capsized, or that she might have drifted so far to leeward that we might not be able to find her. I said nothing, however, but helped Peter to take the mate and the other two survivors off the wreck. Then, indeed, the question pressed on us, What has become of the brig?

"Cheer up, my lads!" cried Peter; "hold on yet a while; we'll see her presently."

We waited with intense anxiety, and the darkness seemed every instant increasing. It was, however, only the result of the tail of the squall pa.s.sing by. Suddenly a bright light burst forth, which we knew must proceed from the deck of the brig.

"The captain has not forgotten the trick we played the pirates!"

exclaimed Peter. "Shove off, my lads!"

With lightened hearts we pulled away to leeward, and were soon once more on the deck of the brig, with our boat hoisted up and secured. Every care and attention which we could possibly bestow was paid to the poor starving wretches. Captain Gale was enlightened as well as brave and generous, so that he knew well how to treat them. First he gave them only a little liquid--tea and cocoa; and then after a time a little simple arrowroot; afterwards he gave them some with broth; and, lastly, he mixed a few drops of wine with the arrowroot.

Scarcely, however, had we got them down below, than the gale which had been threatening came on; and while the captain went to the helm, all hands had to spring aloft to shorten sail. Happily the gale was in our favour, so that we were able to run before it, and keep our course.

There can be little doubt that had we not providentially appeared that very night, everybody on board the wreck would have perished. We had hard work enough to do the duty of the ship and to attend to our pa.s.sengers, who could for some days do nothing to help themselves. They were all too weak to speak without fatigue, so we forbore to question them as to the particulars of the events which had brought them into the condition in which we had found them.

For some days all we knew was, that the ship was the _Eagle_, from Quebec, laden with timber, and that she had been six weeks very nearly in the condition we found her--water-logged, with spars and sails carried away. The captain had died, and the lady we had rescued was his wife. Poor thing! at first she was almost insensible to everything; but when she recovered her health and strength, it was pitiable to see her grief.

The tall, gaunt man, whom we found deranged, had been a merchant's clerk, and had gone out to Canada in the vain hope of finding employment. Disappointed in his expectations, he was returning home.

At first he appeared to recover strength, but a relapse took place, and he rapidly seemed to grow weaker and weaker. I was sent to watch him.

Suddenly he sat up in his berth, and glared wildly around.

"Where am I?--where am I going?--what has occurred?" he exclaimed.

"Tell me, young man. I have had a horrid dream. For worlds I would not dream it again!" Then his voice lowered, and, rubbing his hand across his brow, he added, in a low, calm tone--

"I know all about it. I am going to a land where I have only one account to render; but my Judge will be great and just; and there is One in whom I trust who has taken all my sins on Himself. Young man, thank all those who have been kind to me. I am grateful. Good-night!" He fell back on his pillow, and was dead.

Among those saved was one other pa.s.senger. The rest consisted of the first mate, and the crew of the ship. With one of the crew, a young Canadian, who was making his second trip to sea, I formed a strong friendship; Adam De Lisle was his name. From him I learned the particulars of the disaster.

"You must know," he observed, "that the timber which is sent from Canada to England is cut down from forests many hundreds of miles up the country. Numerous large and rapid rivers run into the great river Saint Lawrence. At the fall of the year gangs of woodcutters, under regular leaders, proceed up these rivers in canoes, with a supply of food, and every requisite, to enable them to spend the winter far from the haunts, of civilisation. Arrived at the forest they have selected for their operations, they build their habitations, and then set to work to cut down the trees they require. These, when shaped into square logs, as soon as snow has fallen, and ice covers the water, are dragged to the nearest stream. When spring returns, they are bound together in small rafts, and floated down towards the main river. Sometimes, when rapids occur, they are separated, and a few trees are allowed to glide down together. Slides have, of late years, been formed by the sides of the rapids, through which the timber descends without injury. At the foot of the rapids the rafts are re-formed, and ultimately, when they reach the Saint Lawrence, they are made so large that huts are built on them, in which their conductors live till they reach Quebec. This they frequently do not do till the end of the summer, when all the ships have sailed. The timber, therefore, remains in shallow docks at the mouth of the Charles River, which runs into the Saint Lawrence on one side of Quebec, till the following spring. The timber is often shipped through a large port in the bow of a ship, but a quant.i.ty is also piled upon deck, and lashed there to ring-bolts, making a ship with so great a weight above board very uneasy in a sea. Thus, I think, more accidents happen to the spars and rigging of timber-ships than to any other, though they have an advantage in floating longer than other craft.

"The _Eagle_ was one of the first ships which left Quebec this year, with a crew of eighteen, all told fore-and-aft, with the captain's wife and several pa.s.sengers. Scarcely had we got clear of the Gulf when we fell in with bad weather; and about ten days afterwards, a heavy gale sprung up from the westward. It was night. The sea soon ran very high, and the ship being deep, and steering ill, before she could be got before the wind, it made a clear breach over her. There she lay helplessly in the trough of the sea, most of her bulwarks carried away, and the water pouring down her companion-hatch, and deluging the cabin.

It soon found its way forward, and every instant we thought she would capsize. The captain ordered the main and mizzen topsail-sheets to be cut away, for there was no time to let them go, or clew-up the sails; but still the ship lay helpless and unable to answer her helm. Two men went to the helm, while others rigged relieving-tackles, and at length all the after-sail being taken off her, the headsail filled, and once more she ran before the wind. This was a great relief, but still the water was gaining on us. The seas continued rolling up after us high above the p.o.o.p, and at length one broke on board, carrying the taffrail clean away, and sweeping the after-part of the deck. Had we not had safety-lines pa.s.sed across the deck, the greater number of us would at once have been washed overboard. Our sufferings had now become intense, both from cold and hunger. All the provisions we could get at were spoiled with salt water, and the few clothes we had on were drenched also with water, and the wind pierced through them to our very bones.

We still managed to keep a close-reefed foretop-sail on the ship, with a mainstay-sail and trysail, or we could not have avoided being constantly p.o.o.ped. The gale, in a short time, increased in fury as the sea did in height. Again it made a clean breach over the ship. All the bulwarks were carried away; and the ring-bolts being torn from the decks, the deck timber, which consisted of large logs, was washed overboard, as were all our boats. At the same moment the foresail blew clean out of the bolt-ropes; and all those we could muster fit for duty had not strength sufficient to go aloft to set another. We knew well that our safety much depended on our being able to keep sail on the ship; but each man felt that his death would be the consequence if he attempted to go aloft, with that raging sea tumbling the ship about in every direction, the wind howling round him, and the torn sail flapping fiercely in his face. Still we managed to keep the ship before the wind, and thus, by easing the strain on her, she was prevented from going to pieces, which she would otherwise inevitably have done.

"Our first mate, James Carr, was a fine fellow. To look at him, you would not have supposed that he had so much endurance in his body. His spirit kept him up. When very few besides he and I could bear up, he went about the decks as if nothing unusual had occurred. He was a slight, fair man, and far from strongly-built; but he was a thoughtful, reading, and more than that, a religious man. Those who had led the wildest and most careless lives, and had no faith or hope to sustain them, were the first to succ.u.mb. I held out--first, because I believed that G.o.d would sustain me; and because I had a good const.i.tution, which I had never injured by vice and debauchery, as too many of the rest had done. The captain was a good, kind man, and he did his best for us as long as his strength lasted. The little food we could get at was carefully husbanded, and all hands were put on short allowance. Many days thus pa.s.sed away, the ship running before the wind, and still keeping together. At length the wind lulled, and we began to look forward with hope to the future. The caboose had hitherto stood, and the cook managed to light a fire in it, and to dress several meals, which we ate with comparative comfort. As long as there was a moderate breeze the ship ran steadily before it, but what many people would have thought an advantage, proved our greatest bane. Too much wind had injured us--too little almost destroyed us. It fell a dead calm; and this, far from bettering our condition, made the ship roll still more than ever, and soon reduced us to the condition in which you found us.

The greater part of the bowsprit had already gone, the foremast was next rolled out of her, and then the mizzen-mast went--the mainmast must have been an unusually good stick, or that would have gone likewise. We had scarcely strength left to cut away the wreck. Hitherto, though all hands were growing daily weaker, no deaths had occurred, nor had anyone any particular sickness. However, anxiety of mind now helped to make our poor captain ill, and he took to his cot. The daily provision for each of us consisted also of but three ounces of bread, and half a pint of water. We agreed to this, because we felt that it was enough to sustain life for some time, and that it was better to have a little each day than have to go many days without any food at all. The officers proposed, however, before long, to diminish even this small allowance-- though, by mixing a little spirits with the water, our food sustained us more than it would otherwise have done. Starvation, after a time, began to tell sadly on our tempers; and we, who had generally lived in good-fellowship with each other, spent the day in wrangling and peevishness. A breeze, however, had again sprung up, which seemed to steady the ship, though we could not keep her on her proper course.

Such was the state of things, when one morning Mr Carr going on deck, as was his custom, to take a look-out, and to hoist our signal of distress, he shouted out, 'Sail, ho!'

"How did our hearts leap with joy as we heard those words! We all crawled up as best we could to take a look at the stranger, which we hoped would save us. She saw us, and drew nearer. The captain got the mate and me to help him up on deck, and then, as he saw the approaching vessel, his heart bursting forth with grat.i.tude, he called on us all to return thanks to G.o.d for the deliverance he hoped was at hand. His poor wife, who had held out bravely, and scarcely ever left his side, wept with joy at the thought that his life might yet be spared.

"'Now, my lads, let's see if we cannot get the ship somewhat clear of water,' exclaimed Mr Carr, going to the pumps; 'It will never do to have it said that we did nothing to help ourselves.'

"I believe he did this to employ the men's minds till a.s.sistance could reach us. He set the example, which we all followed; and, weak as we were, we pumped away with such good-will that she rose perceptibly in the water, showing us that there was no leak to injure her.

"At last the stranger, a large brig, reached us, and heaving-to just to leeward, Mr Carr gave him an account of all that had happened to us.

"The master of the brig said that he was himself somewhat short of provisions, but would send us what he could venture to give in his own boat. We thanked him with grateful hearts. Still the boat did not come. There was some consultation on board; we could not tell what. A breeze from the westward again sprung up. It was a fair wind for the stranger.

"'What's he about now?' exclaimed several voices, trembling with agitation.

"He put up his helm and filled his headsails.

"'He'll go about directly, and heave-to on the other tack,' said Mr Carr.

"Still the stranger stood on.

"'Where can he be going to?' again exclaimed several of us.

"On, on he stood, steadily, with all sail set! Oh, how bitter were the words which followed him! Could that heartless stranger have heard them, would he have ventured to brave the fate to which he had left so many of his fellow-creatures? How completely had he forgotten that golden rule, 'Do unto others as you would wish others to do unto you!'

What will be his thoughts some day when he is suffering from all the miseries to which we were exposed, when he remembers the wreck he deserted on the wild ocean! Hour after hour we watched him anxiously, scarcely believing, till his topsails dipped beneath the horizon, that so heartless a wretch existed in the creation."

"Ay, it's another proof of the depth of man's vileness, and wickedness, and contempt of the laws of a G.o.d of mercy," observed Peter Poplar. "I have known many such instances almost as bad; so I am not surprised."

"When we found that we really were deserted, the spirits of all of us and the minds of some gave way. Several of the crew broke into the spirit-room, which they could now reach, and, broaching a cask of liquor, endeavoured to forget their miseries by getting drunk. The mate and I, and most of the pa.s.sengers, abstained from the temptation. Those who indulged in it were the first to pay the penalty by a miserable death.

"Still discipline had been maintained. Mr Carr called on me to accompany him round the ship in search of anything which might serve as food to stay the cravings of hunger. We discovered a few pounds of candles, some bits of old leather, leather shoes, a rug, a couple of hides; but our greatest prize was about a gallon of lamp-oil, and some oil intended to mix with paint. These we brought into the cabin, to be kept in safety. While we were there, Mr Carr's eyes fell on old Trojan, the captain's favourite Newfoundland dog, as he lay almost dying under his master's cot. The captain very naturally had not brought himself to order its death.

"'I am sorry, sir,' said Mr Carr, 'to propose what I do; but that dog may be the means of preserving the lives of all of us. We must kill him.'

"'You'll be proposing to kill and eat each other before long,' exclaimed the poor master, in a querulous tone.

"'Heaven forbid!' answered the mate. 'But to take the life of a brute beast is a different matter. I don't see how we can spare him. Even if we do, he will not live long, and now his blood alone will be of great importance.'

"At last the captain consented to the death of his favourite, and poor Trojan was led up on deck to be put to death. Before he was killed, we all of us took an anxious look round the horizon, to ascertain that no sail was near. We would gladly, even then, have saved the poor dog's life. The cravings of hunger soon, however, drove all feelings of remorse from our bosoms. The faithful brute looked up into our faces, and his eyes said as clearly as if he had spoken the words, 'I know that it is necessary--be quick about it.' How carefully we husbanded every drop of the blood! The mate got a teaspoon, and served it out with that measure full to each of us at a time, while the flesh was reserved for another day.

"I cannot describe how those wretched days pa.s.sed away. Except the mate and three others of us, no one could even stand. The captain lay in his cot growing worse and worse. I was on deck one afternoon with Mr Carr, steering and keeping the ship's head to the eastward, when we were startled by a faint shriek from the cabin. Presently afterwards the captain rushed on deck.

"'Mutiny! mutiny!' he exclaimed, frantically flourishing his arms about.

'But I'll take care that no one takes the ship from me. I'll shoot the first man who approaches me, be he whom he may. See here here!'

"He drew a brace of pistols from his bosom, and presented them at us.

Happily, one missed fire; the ball from the other pa.s.sed close to Mr Carr's head.

"'That's right, sir,' said Mr Carr, quite coolly. 'Now you've quelled the mutiny, let's go below.'

"He signed to one of the other men, who crawled aft to help me to steer, while he took the captain below. This outbreak was the last flaring up of the poor man's almost exhausted strength. His wife watched him as the flame of life sank lower and lower in the socket; and two days after that, when I went into the cabin, I found her fainting beside him, and he was dead. She entreated that the body might be allowed to remain in the cabin another day; but the next she allowed the mate and me to remove it, and to commit it to the sea.

"Oh, how sad and melancholy were those long, dreary nights, as we stood at the helm, the gale howling over our heads, the ship groaning and creaking, and the seas roaring up astern and threatening every moment to wash us from our uncertain support--darkness above us, darkness on every side!

"At last not a particle of food remained. Mr Carr made another search into every cranny of the ship. Some grease was found; it served to keep life in us another day. Then the dreadful information spread among us that there was nothing else. Relief must come, or we must die.