Chapter Five.

Jack’s Second Voyage.

Jack had behaved so well when on board the Indiaman, that Captain Hudson, her commander, kept him on to assist in looking after the ship while she was refitting for sea, and once more he sailed in her. Nearly all the crew had been shipped when Sambo made his appearance and got a berth on board. Away rolled the old Belvoir Castle laden with a rich cargo, and full of passengers hoping to gain fortune and fame in the distant land of the East. None of them, however, took notice of the young sailor lad, nor did it ever occur to Jack that such grand people would think of speaking to such as he. How vast was the gap between them!

It was war time. One morning a strange sail was seen bearing down on them, but whether friend or foe no one could tell. To escape by flight was impossible, so the ship was prepared for action. Jack, like the rest, stripped himself to the waist, and went to his gun with alacrity. The old hands said they should have a tough job to beat off the enemy, but they would do their best. An enemy’s frigate the stranger proved to be, but so well were the old Indiaman’s guns fought, that she beat off the frigate with the loss of her foremast. It was an achievement of which all on board might justly have been proud, though several similar acts of gallantry were performed during the war. Jack’s coolness had been remarked, and he was called aft, and thanked by Captain Hudson on the quarter deck for the way in which he had stood to his gun.

Chapter Six.

India was reached at last, the nabobs and the Griffins and the young ladies were safely landed, and the ship, as before, proceeded to China. There she took in a cargo of tea, and the time of year being suitable the captain resolved to return home by Cape Horn. The Pacific was true to its character, and the Indiaman had a smooth run across it. Cape Horn was almost doubled. It was a fine night. The passengers tripped it gaily on the quarter deck to the sound of music, the crew amused themselves by singing forward. No one thought of danger. The moon’s bright beams played on the surface of the dark mysterious deep. So passed the evening away. The passengers retired to rest; the first watch was set; silence reigned over the ship. Before the watch was out dark clouds collected in the horizon and came rolling up overhead. Every instant they grew thicker and thicker, the wind whistled louder and louder, the sea rose higher and higher. A heavy gale was blowing; such a sea Jack had never before witnessed. Suddenly a cry arose from below, a cry the dread import of which a sailor too well knows—“Fire! Fire! Fire!” The crew in a moment sprung on deck. The passengers, pale with terror, rushed from their cabins.

Jack listened for the orders of one on whom he knew all must depend—their venerable captain. Quick as lightning all flew to obey them. The courses were brailed up, the ship’s head was brought to the wind. All hands were stationed to pass buckets along the decks, to deluge the hold with water, but a fiercer element was at work. Upward darted the bright flames, grappling savagely with everything they encountered. On—on they fought their way, vanquishing the utmost efforts of the crew. Those who had never before felt fear now trembled at the rapid progress of the devouring element. Already had the flames gained the foremast and were mounting the rigging. Their bright glare fell on the terror-stricken countenances of the passengers and the figures of some of the crew labouring to lower the boats into the water. Others were endeavouring hastily to construct a raft by which, perchance, some few more of those on board might have their lives prolonged. Provisions, water, blankets, compasses, and other articles were collected in haste, and thrown into the boats, as they were got into the water and dropped under the counter. Then the order was given to lower the women and children into them. Rapidly were the flames making their way aft. Still the generous seamen obeyed the call of duty, and endeavoured to see the most helpless rescued from immediate destruction before they attempted to seek their own safety. The frail raft was launched: one by one the people descended on it: still many remained on board.

There was a loud explosion! Fragments of the wreck flew high into the air. Bright hungry flames enveloped the whole ship. Jack felt his arm seized, and in another moment he was struggling in the waves supported by Sambo, who then struck out for the nearest boat, the ship’s launch. They were taken on board. Sad and solemn was the sight as Jack watched the burning ship, casting its ruddy glare on the tossing foam-crested waves, the tossing boats and helpless raft. The launch, already crowded, could take no more people in, and the second officer, who had charge of her, judged it necessary to keep her before the wind. So hoisting sail they soon left their companions in misfortune and the burning wreck far astern. Yet how miserable was the condition of the people in that storm-tossed boat. Great also were their fears as to the fate of those from whom they had just parted. What hope also could they have for themselves? No sail in sight, land far far away, with small supply of provisions or water. The mate, Mr Collins, was a man of decision and judgment. The scanty store was husbanded to the utmost, grumblers were silenced, discipline was maintained.

Still the sufferings of all were great. Exposed to the sun by day, to the cold at night, wet to the skin, with but little food, one after the other they died.

A fortnight passed away. Still no ship appeared in sight, no land was made. Scarcely could any of those in the boat have been recognised by their dearest friends, so sad was the change wrought by those days of suffering. The wind now shifting, the mate determined to steer for the Falkland Islands, the nearest land he could expect to make. There, at all events, they could obtain water and fresh meat. Still it was a hundred leagues or more away: could any hope to live to reach that resting place for their feet? Alas, their hollow voices, their haggard countenances as in despair they looked into each other’s faces, told them that such hope was vain. Jack and Sambo sat side by side, others talked of home and friends, and entreated those who might survive to bear their last messages to those friends in their far, far-off homes; but Jack and the black had no homes, no friends to mourn their loss. Much anguish were they saved. It might have been the reason that they retained their strength while others sunk under their trials. Jack remembered also how he and Sambo had before been preserved, and did not despair.

Day after day passed away, the boat