of Contents
“All’s well so far, sir,” said Ready to Mr. Seagrave; “and now let us return thanks to Heaven.”
As they rose to their feet again, after giving thanks to the Almighty, William came up and said, “Father, my mother was awakened by the noise under the ship’s bottom, and is frightened—will you go down to her?”
“What is the matter, my dear—and where have you all been?” exclaimed Mrs. Seagrave, when her husband went down below. “I have been so frightened—I was in a sound sleep, and I was awakened with such a dreadful noise.”
“Be composed, my dear,” replied Mr. Seagrave; “we have been in great danger, and are now, I trust, in safety. Tell me, are you not better for your long sleep?”
“Yes, much better—much stronger; but do tell me what has happened.”
“Much took place, dearest, before you went to sleep, which was concealed from you; but now, as I expect we shall all go on shore in a short time—”
“Go on shore, my dear?”
“Yes, on shore. Now be calm, and hear what has happened, and how much we have reason to be grateful to Heaven.”
Mr. Seagrave then entered into a detail of all that had passed. Mrs. Seagrave heard him without reply; and when he had finished, she threw herself in his arms and wept bitterly. Mr. Seagrave remained with his wife, using all his efforts to console her, until Juno reappeared with the children, for it was now getting late; then he returned on deck.
“Well, sir,” said Ready, when Mr. Seagrave went up to him, “I have been looking well about me, and I think that we have great reason to be thankful. The ship is fast enough, and will not move until some violent gales come on and break her up; but of that there is no fear at present: the little wind that there is, is going down, and we shall have a calm before morning.”
“I grant that there is no immediate danger, Ready; but how are we to get on shore?—and, when on shore, how are we to exist?”
“I have thought of that too, sir, and I must have your assistance, and even that of Master William, to get the little boat on board to repair her: her bottom is stove in, it is true, but I am carpenter enough for that, and with some well-tarred canvas I can make her sufficiently water-tight to land us all in safety. We must set to at daylight.”
“And when we get on shore?”
“Why, Mr. Seagrave, where there are cocoa-nut trees in such plenty as there are on that island, there is no fear of starvation, even if we had not the ship’s provisions. I expect a little difficulty with regard to water, for the island is low and small; but we cannot expect to find everything exactly as we wish.”
“I am thankful to the Almighty for our preservation, Ready; but still there are feelings which I cannot get over. Here we are cast away upon a desolate island, which perhaps no ship may ever come near, so that there is little chance of our being taken off. It is a melancholy and cruel fate, Ready, and that you must acknowledge.”
“Mr. Seagrave, as an old man compared to you, I may venture to say that you are ungrateful to Heaven to give way to these repinings. What is said in the book of Job? ‘Shall we receive good of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil?’ Besides, who knows whether good may not proceed from what appears evil? I beg your pardon, Mr. Seagrave, I hope I have not offended you; but, indeed, sir, I felt that it was my duty to speak as I have done.”
“You have reproved me very justly, Ready; and I thank you for it,” replied Mr. Seagrave; “I will repine no more, but make the best of it.”
“And trust in God, sir, who, if he thinks fit, will restore you once more to your friends, and increase tenfold your flocks and herds.”
“That quotation becomes very apt, Ready,” replied Mr. Seagrave, smiling, “considering that all my prospects are in flocks and herds upon my land in New South Wales. I must put myself under your orders; for, in our present position, you are my superior—knowledge is power. Can we do anything to-night?”
“I can do a little, Mr. Seagrave; but you cannot assist me till tomorrow morning, except indeed to help me to drag these two spars aft; and then I can rig a pair of sheers, and have them all ready for hoisting up to-morrow morning to get the boat in. You see, with so little strength on board, and no masts, we shall be obliged to contrive.”
Mr. Seagrave assisted Ready in getting the two spars aft, and laid on the spot which was required. “There now, Mr. Seagrave, you may go down below. William had better let loose the two dogs, and give them a little victuals, for we have quite forgot them, poor things. I shall keep watch to-night, for I have plenty to do, and plenty to think of; so, good-night, sir.”
Ready remained on deck, lashing the heads of the spars, and fixing his tackles ready for the morrow. When all was done, he sat down upon one of the hen-coops aft, and remained in deep thought. At last, tired with watching and exertion, the old man fell asleep. He was awakened at daylight by the dogs, who had been set at liberty, and who, after walking about the ship and finding nobody, had then gone to sleep at the cabin door. At daybreak they had roused up, and going on deck had found old Ready asleep on the hen-coop, and were licking his face in their joy at having discovered him. “Ay,” said the old man, as he got off the hen-coop, “you’ll all three be useful, if I mistake not, by and by. Down, Vixen, down—poor creature, you’ve lost a good master, I’m afraid.”
“Stop—now let me see,” said Ready, talking to himself; “first—but I’ll get the log board and a bit of chalk, and write them down, for my memory is not quite so good as it was.”
Ready placed the logboard on the hen-coop, and then wrote on it with the chalk:—“Three dogs, two goats, and Billy the kid (I think there’s five pigs); fowls (quite enough); three or four pigeons (I’m sure); the cow (she has lain down and won’t get up again, I’m afraid, so we must kill her); and there’s the merino ram and sheep belonging to Mr. Seagrave—plenty of live stock. Now, what’s the first things we must get on shore after we are all landed—a spar and topgallant sail for a tent, a coil or two of rope, a mattress or two for Madam and the children, two axes, hammer and nails, something to eat—yes, and something to cut it with. There, that will do for the present,” said old Ready, getting up. “Now, I’ll just light the fire, get the water on, and, while I think of it, boil two or three pieces of beef and pork to go on shore with them; and then I’ll call up Mr. Seagrave, for I reckon it will be a hard day’s work.”
Chapter Nine.
As soon as Ready had executed his intentions, and had fed the animals, he went to the cabin and called Mr. Seagrave and William. With their assistance the sheers were raised, and secured in their place; the boat was then hooked on, but, as one person was required to bear it clear of the davits and taffrail, they could not hoist it in.
“Master William, will you run down to Juno, and tell her to come on deck to assist us—we must all work now?”
William soon returned with Juno, who was a strong girl; and, with her assistance, they succeeded in getting the boat in.
The boat was turned over, and Ready commenced his work; while Mr. Seagrave, at his request, put the pitch-pot on the galley fire, all ready for pitching the canvas when it was nailed on. It was not till dinner-time that Ready, who had worked hard, could patch up the boat; he then payed the canvas and the seams which he had caulked with pitch both inside and out.
“I think we shall do now, sir,” said Ready; “we’ll drag her to the gangway and launch her. It’s fortunate for us that they did clear away the gunnel, as we shall have no trouble.”
A rope was made fast to the boat, to hold her to the ship: she was then launched over the gunnel by the united exertions of Mr.