very regretfully i notice how the recital of frank’s career has drawn me on to longer and longer chapters, until i hardly know where to draw the line. but then at sea, you know, as a rule day succeeds day and work flows on so steadily that, except when some sudden catastrophe occurs, the necessity for a break in the narrative is not evident. such a necessity is now at hand. i have said that the elements seemed to favour the departure of the sealark, and the elevation of hansen to the position of bo’sun, or foreman of the crew, made frank feel that things were going exceptionally well with him, and that this voyage was indeed a great improvement upon the last one.

and then a change took place, a change in the weather that made, as the scriptures say, “all faces gather blackness.” the wind backed round into the north-west, with an awfully hideous sea which made the deeply-laden sealark strain and labour as if she would loosen her plates. (i hope i have made it clear that she was an iron ship, but i don’t think i have.) captain jenkins, full of care for his charge, saw to it that all the sails were well secured, all the mast supports well looked to by means of preventer backstays, and, in short, everything[182] done that a good sailor could think of for the safety of the vessel and all on board under any circumstances of weather. for he knew how low the glass had fallen, and he felt the need of preparing for the worst possible eventuality.

at last the weather grew so bad, and the wind so high, that the carrying of any sail was impossible, and so the sealark lay hove-to under bare poles, with just a tarpaulin in the mizzen rigging to keep her head from falling off and leaving her in the trough of the enormous sea then running.

she lay pretty comfortably considering, but frank, who was quite a sea-dog by this time, was much moved by the terror of his two poor little housemates, the two new apprentices. they did not know how much they were indebted to him for any comfort they had felt, yet unconsciously they clung to him in their distress, because johnson, though a good fellow enough, hadn’t frank’s sympathy with the weak. he had quite forgotten his own early disadvantages. some men are like that, but it is a great pity, because it is a trait that rather adds to manhood than detracts from it.

and in this dread time, when the howling storm tore off the sea-crests and made them envelop the cowering ship in clouds of spray, when sky and ocean seemed to mingle, and the uproar of the elements made ordinary conversation impossible, they clung to one who, only a little older than themselves, had risen to the full stature of a man and knew how to control his natural fears. not that frank was in any way lavish with his sympathy;[183] rather he evinced it by speaking and acting in the most natural and usual manner possible, as if there could be nothing to make a fuss about. this, i take it, is, in the majority of cases, far more effectual in the comforting of others than the most elaborate endeavours to do so can ever be.

nevertheless, it cannot be denied that time and conditions were bad enough to daunt the stoutest heart. only youngsters, not being able to see so far ahead, are able to keep their end up at such a time much better than the majority of men, that is, if they are as good stuff as frank brown was to start with. it was a gale that will be long remembered in shipping annals for the enormous destruction of property and loss of life at sea, a regular tropical hurricane raging in the temperate zone and just where the greatest traffic in the world congregates, outward and homeward bound. it blew so hard that the sealark lay down with her lee rail under water, deep laden as she was, and refused to rise; while the sea smiting her weather side was caught by the furious tempest and hurled high over her masts’ heads in great sheets of spume. then is the time when the weak spots show and when faithful work proves its worth, for one small mishap at such a time may, and often does, lead to the loss of the ship and the lives of all hands.

so day faded into night with no relief, while all hands hung on to their patience, as it were, thankful for a staunch ship and a fairly good cargo. but oh! the weary hours of the night.[184] a man does get so weary of the ravenous roar of the wind, the unceasing assault of the mighty sea, does long so for a little respite. day, moreover, broke again upon an ocean that was one expanse of white, for the sea seemed mingling with the sky, its very surface torn off by the ferocious wind. it was impossible to see for any distance through the hissing spray, two or three hundred yards at the most, and yet they craved for further vision, it was so lonely. then suddenly there was a slight lull, the ship eased up a little, and the sky cleared temporarily, although it was still blowing a tremendous gale.

and into their circle of sight there came an object of pity, awakening a passionate desire to do something at any risk whatever for the help of their fellow-men. it was a vessel of about the same size as themselves, but of wood, and by the appearance of her very near the foundering-point. her three masts, bulwarks, and boats were gone, she was just a mere hulk upon the terrible sea; but upon the highest part of her, lashed to the stanchions of the departed bulwarks, which showed up like a set of broken teeth, were visible the cowering forms of her crew, visible, that is, at intervals, when the incessant spray which swept over them became thinner than usual. the word went quickly round the sealark, and all hands rushed on deck, staring with bated breath on the pitiful sight, and glancing anxiously at the skipper between whiles to see what he might be going to do.

poor man, it was an anxious time for him, for[185] his ship was quite unmanageable, as he dared not make sail. true, the derelict was to leeward of him, and a boat could reach her without very great danger; but unless the wind let up soon, the getting of that boat back was an obvious impossibility. however, there was no question about the urgency of the matter, for at every scend of the sea it would be noticed that the unfortunate craft had settled deeper, had less buoyancy. so pulling himself together, captain jenkins shouted at the pitch of his great voice, “who will volunteer to go and try and save those men from drowning?”

there was only a momentary hesitation, and then four men stepped forward. they were the two scotchmen, hansen, and one of the welshmen, the other being at the wheel.

then the second mate looked up at the skipper, and said quite coolly, “i shall want another man, sir.”

he had hardly uttered the words when frank, who had been watching the wreck with indescribable feelings, sprang forward and said, “let me go, sir; i would have offered before, but i was afraid you would not let me go.”

the skipper shook his head sadly, and said, “i’m afraid it’s no place for you, my boy.”

but frank bounded up the ladder to his side, and said gaspingly, “i’m as strong as any of those men, sir, and you know i can pull a good oar. besides, i want to show the second mate, sir——”

that was all, but the skipper nodded “all right,”[186] and immediately all hands were busy getting the boat out, a difficult and heavy task in a ship like that, where the boats are seldom carried ready for launching. but by dint of hard work and eagerness, she was got all ready for lowering in fifteen minutes.

“now, mr. jacks,” roared the skipper, “all i’ve got to say is, keep your eye on that ship that she doesn’t go down while you’re alongside, and take you all with her. as soon as ever i see you have reached her, i’ll keep away and run down to leeward at any risks, so that you can run down to me as you are going to do to her, and may god grant you save ’em all and yourselves too. off you go.”

the six of them got into the boat as she hung by a single bridle from a main-yard tackle, a steady shove off and she touched the seething surface almost instantly. the man at the tackle fall let go, and, as the barque heeled over, one hand in the boat unhooked the tackle and hove it clear, while the sea surging up beneath the vessel’s bottom bore the boat a hundred yards to leeward at a single sweep. the second mate at the tiller kept her off before the wind, ordering his men to ship their oars and hold the blades high out of water by depressing the looms, with the effect that the boat sped away as if under a press of sail.

there was no time to be afraid had the crew been ever so fearful, and in addition they all felt at once that they were being steered by a master in the science of boat-handling. it seemed but a[187] minute or two before she reached the wallowing vessel, and as she flew under the stern the second mate shouted to his port oarsmen to pull for their very lives, starboard oarsmen to ship their oars and watch for a rope. the boat spun round right up into the smooth, and at the same moment a coil of rope was hove into her from the derelict, which was caught and held.

but now the boat’s position was full of peril, for the derelict’s decks on the lee side were under water, and some ugly fragments of spars, still attached by the lee rigging, were tumbling about and threatening the boat with destruction. it was quite impossible to get close alongside, and yet every moment was precious, while the poor fellows, so close to rescue, and yet confronted with that terrible few feet of boiling foam and jagged tumbling spars, were in an agony of doubt. but their natural hesitation was solved by a huge sea which, bursting over the weather side, washed full half of their number overboard, as they were not then on the look-out for it; and before even they themselves had realised what had happened, they were clambering into the boat.

the rest were emboldened by what had happened, and jumped into the foaming vortex at the same moment as the second mate screamed, “let go that rope, she’s going.” happily one of them managed to reach the boat’s side, and clung to it with desperate tenacity, as the heavily laden craft, caught by a swell, was swept away clear of that brutal entanglement alongside. only just in time, for, as the boat swung off the wind, those[188] in the boat, in spite of their efforts to get the struggling men who were hanging on to the gunwale inboard, could not help seeing the defeated ship give one throe like a titan in his death agony, and, her bow rising high in air, she slid down a yawning gulf into darkness and peace, never again to be seen by the eye of man.

it was a splendid rescue, nobly planned and carried out, and all the more impressive because of the scanty sum of the moments during which it had been effected. and now the heavily laden boat must needs be brought to the wind and sea, which latter was getting up at a most dangerous rate, because it was evident that otherwise she would go as fast to leeward as the ship to which she belonged. it was most fortunate, therefore, that the second mate was so skilful, and calling upon his men to stand by, one side to pull and the other to stern on the word, he watched the smooth when a big sea had passed, and then shouting fit to crack his throat, “pull port, stern starboard,” he swung the boat up into the wind, and she was safe for the time.

but she rode very deep, and threatened every moment to swamp, only the most energetic baling keeping her afloat. in addition, the air was so thick with spray that they could see nothing of the ship, and they could only hope that from her superior height their shipmates were able to keep sight of them. they all looked wistfully at the grim face of mr. jacks, which showed no trace of his great anxiety, and took comfort therefrom.

on board the ship they had not yet kept away,[189] for a tremendous squall had blotted out the whole scene, and when it had passed and vision was restored for about a square mile, there was nothing visible but the small circle of white sea and black sky, although all hands were straining their eyes to leeward through the clouds of spindrift, for sight or sign of the devoted little boatload of beings who were at present all in all to them.

suddenly there was a scream from forward heard above the monotonous growl of the storm. it was from johnson, who had climbed up inside the lee fore-rigging, and had just caught a glimpse of something, he knew not what, a black patch on a hill of white. but the skipper had heard, and saw his pointing arm, and, focussing his glasses on the spot for a moment, shouted, “run that fore-topmast staysail up.”

all hands flew to obey, and steadily the small triangle of sail rose, carefully attended as to the sheet, until without a shake it was set. “hard up with that helm, stand by your weather braces,” were the next orders, while springing into the weather mizzen-rigging the skipper tore the tarpaulin down which was holding her up to the wind. slowly she paid off, and gathered way as the yards were checked, and presently, to the almost hysterical delight of all hands, they saw the boat, a tiny spot in that snowy waste, being tossed like a chip in a torrent, but looking staunch and seaworthy still.

down towards her sped the ship now, although only that rag of sail was set forrard, under full steerage control, with the skipper clinging in the[190] weather rigging like a bat, and conning the vessel with waves of his hand, for his voice was useless in that uproar. down past the boat they swept, high on the crest of a gigantic wave, while the tiny overloaded craft seemed to cower in the valley between two wave-crests as if she were sheltering there.

then at the skipper’s beckoning hand some of the fellows rushed aft and hauled out the head of the mizzen. down with the helm, no time to watch for smooth seas now, let go the fore-topmast staysail halyards, and up she comes into the wind, receiving as she did so the full impact of the terrible sea that seemed as if it must crush her into fragments. she shuddered in every rivet, but survived, the drivers of those rivets in some far-away shipyard all unconscious of this life and death testing of their work.

and there, hove to again under bare poles with just the tarpaulin spread as before, she lay with all hands straining their eyes for the coming of the boat. mr. jacks, watching with stern-set face the manœuvres of the ship, followed her passing with orders to stand by the oars so that at his word the boat might be swung off again, and driven before the wind and sea, and got under the lee of the waiting ship.

it was boldly, gallantly, successfully done, but not one of them failed to note how hungrily the mighty seas roared around their insignificance, but while some felt their hearts shrivel within them at the immediate prospect of dissolution, others, among whom was frank, were elated as[191] the old vikings at the prospect of battle, and would fain have shouted for joy. but the weary time of watching, and waiting, and noting the onrush of each awful sea had tested them to the last fibre, and they felt infinitely relieved at the change of action for passive endurance.

away she sped, flung from crest to hollow of the seas, but steered so splendidly by the second mate that, although the foam seemed to stand above her gunwale in wreaths, nothing but the spray came over. and they all watched the face of the steersman, who looked, as indeed he was, a tower of strength, confident and able. just shaving the stern of the sealark by, as it seemed, a hand’s breadth, he shouted, “pull port, all you know,” and the boat shot up alongside, to receive a line and be secured.

then as she rose and fell, kept away from being stove in by the eddying seas coming under the ship’s bottom, one by one, watching their opportunity, scrambled on board until, all but the second mate and frank having left her, the bridle was hooked on and many willing hands swung the gallant craft up into her place again. a splendid feat nobly performed, and one that all those engaged in it would ever remember as making an elevating epoch in their lives.

no sooner was the boat secured than the weather broke, and before midnight the sealark, under topsail, foresail, and lower staysails, was plunging away on her course again as if rejoicing in her victory over the hungry sea. meanwhile all the heroes of the adventure had slipped back into their grooves[192] again, frank especially treating the whole affair with a lofty nonchalance as if it were hardly worth recalling, but secretly enjoying an uplifting sense of having done a good deed.

the saved crew were distributed according to the barque’s limited accommodation, and made as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances, none of them, fortunately, being injured or so exhausted that they needed special care. the skipper, entertaining the rescued officers in the cabin, learned that the lost ship was a soft wood ship hailing from frederikstad, laden with coal from newport, and bound to rio janeiro. that she was leaky when she started from port, and never from the first coming on of this frightful gale had she possessed the faintest chance of living through it.

the norwegian skipper further told them that towards the last, when the enfeebled rigging had given way and the rusted-through chain-plates had been broken off or torn out of the rotten topsides, letting the masts tumble over the side, the overstrained hull just opened out like a basket, and pumping became useless. the boats went early in the fight; in any case they were of very little use, all of them having the dry-rot. he finished his account by saying, “and but for you coming just when you did, captain jenkins, sixteen of us some hours ago would have been deep below the surface of this rough sea, all our troubles over.” thus the norwegian skipper, one of nature’s gentlemen, as with eyes humid with gratitude he grasped captain jenkins’ hand. jenkins, confused, changed the[193] subject, and pointed out that he must land them all at las palmas as his commissariat, to say nothing of his accommodation, was entirely unequal to the strain upon it. in which the norwegian entirely agreed.

this little episode in a sailor’s life was full of interest for frank, and did him no end of good, but strange to say he did not once associate his part in it with his folks at home until sunday, when, to his immense surprise, he received a summons to dine in the cabin. now in many fine ships i knew when i was at sea this was quite usual, but it had never happened in the sealark before, and frank hardly knew how to contain himself at the prospect of having a decently-laid meal.

so he dressed himself as if for going ashore, to the undisguised amazement of the two youngsters who had already begun to feel as if they never had worn decent clothes and never would again, and then waited most impatiently the tinkle of the steward’s bell. when he got to table he was introduced to captain rasmussen, the rescued skipper, as “one of your rescuers, sir, a lad on his second voyage,” and the big norwegian, taking both the lad’s hands in his, solemnly blessed him, and predicted a splendid career for him if he lived. poor frank could not speak, and wished himself anywhere else, but still the praise was very sweet, and i am glad to say it did not spoil his appetite for dinner.

but far beyond all praise, or even the satisfaction of his own mind at what he had been able to do,[194] was frank’s gratification at the difference in the second mate’s behaviour towards him. there was nothing said by either of them bearing upon the subject, but frank noticed with the utmost pleasure that he was now treated by mr. jacks with a courtesy and consideration greater than that offered to any other man on board, and this made him not only happy but more and more eager to justify the position he had won.

and as an outlet for his energies he took upon himself the training of the two youngsters jones and fordham, who were now fully recovered, but extremely loth to begin work. frank, however, roused them out and drove them like a regular taskmaster, fully explaining to them that it was all for their good, and when they rebelled and told him that he was only a boy like themselves, and they weren’t going to be bullied by him, he took unto himself a bit of ratline stuff, and laid it about them sharply. of course they did not appreciate this one bit, but as frank blandly explained to them, it was better that he should chastise them for their good than that they should suffer the loss of all their best days. i know there are many good people who would condemn frank for this, but i don’t, especially as i know there was not a bit of the bully in him.

the run down to las palmas was quite a lady’s trip, steady gentle trades, bright beaming skies, and smooth sparkling seas. the kind of weather, in fact, that frank had grown to regard as leaving the sailor free to do his repairing and reconstruction work without bothering his head about the[195] ship’s progress at all, she attending to that with just a hand at the wheel to steer her. but when the bold outlines of the beautiful peak of teneriffe rose up sharp and clear against the horizon, all his interest in the external surroundings burst up like a suppressed spring suddenly let loose, and he was as eager as possible to see all that could be seen. that is a good sign in boy or man. i have this opinion because i have known men who after voyages to the same port still retained their interest in its approaches, still maintained that every hour of the day, to say nothing of the wizard-like changes of the night, added to the interest of the place. the sealark coasted the beautiful island of teneriffe, and frank saw with pleasure the dull drab of the land change into a curiously irregular series of lines like a checkerboard made of paper and twisted a bit; then the sun shone out and the checkers began to glow with many tints of green creeping up the side of the mountain, until they reached barrenness just below the line of snow, whence the pure white cone soared into the blue.

past that wonderful scene they sped with a splendid breeze, and across to gran canaria, arriving off the port of las palmas well before sunset. the port official’s boat came off, and finding that the captain was unwilling to anchor, tried, as is their wont, to make him do so. but captain jenkins was not inclined to waste his owners’ time under any pretext. so he would not anchor, just lying hove to until a boat came off, in which he was able to tranship his involuntary[196] passengers. they bade him farewell with heartfelt gratitude for his kindness; and as they left the side he shouted “square away,” and off went the sealark on her long journey, leaving the shipwrecked men to be dealt with by their consul. it was a splendid experience for frank, and one that left its mark upon his life; but he could not help wishing that the skipper had not been so obdurate, and had allowed at least a day’s stay in this wonderfully beautiful island. that, however, to a careful skipper was out of the question; and so the shades of night falling saw the dim outlines of the canary islands fade away into the distance and become but a memory.

and now, as in many respects one voyage is the counterpart of another in certain parts of the world, i propose to pass by without comment the next fortnight, wherein day succeeded day in orderly sequence. the trades were lost, and the calm belt passed, while the ordinary duties of the ship, like those of a house that is well managed, succeeded one another in unfailing procession—a slipping by of unhistorical days, wherein the commoner souls who are part of them just stagnate and think how wearisome it all is, while those who count in the scheme of things are ever growing in all those details that go to make up the sum of life.

how happy in these halcyon seas is the youth who is not afraid of work, and who is fully equipped mentally and physically for that work; to whom the sweet first breath of the new day arouses in him a desire to do, and whose heart is too[197] high to be daunted by any suggestion of monotony. if in addition he is a reader, and can compare present-day sea-life with the past, he will in addition be inclined to thank god that his lines are cast in pleasant places as compared with the bad old days of seafaring, when even the finest of days were lingered out amid scenes of such horror as make the flesh of a modern creep to think of, especially when he knows how much of this misery was entirely preventable.

these are the reflections which often give me pause when endeavouring to call attention to conditions which might be made so much better than they are in the lives of our sailors. it is impossible for any one who knows to ignore the wonderful advance that has been made, that is still being made, in the amelioration of the lot of our seafarers, even compared with the conditions of thirty years ago. but if we go back for a century, and tear aside the veil of romance which distance and fine writing has woven around the lives of those earlier seafarers, we shall, if we possess any human sympathies at all, be nauseated, horrified, made profoundly sad, to think of what poor human flesh and blood has been called upon to endure for the benefit of us who live in these luxurious days.

i often wonder how many of those who revel in the beauties of kingsley’s “westward ho!” stop to think of the meaning of the short sentence or two in which he describes the arrival of amyas leigh and his companions at barbadoes. the length of the passage from england is not[198] given, but it could hardly at the outside have exceeded forty days. yet in that brief space we find that many of the crew are almost at death’s door with scurvy and other foul diseases, which were then regarded as the inevitable concomitants of life on shipboard, a life whose only parallel apparently was to be found in our loathsome gaols at that date, and even there, if the prisoner had friends or money, he might be well, even luxuriously fed, and far from badly lodged. such necessities could not be had by the sailor at sea though he possessed the treasures of midas.

to-day we are fast approaching the maximum of comfort possible in a seafaring life and compatible with the earning power of a ship; that is, in the best type of ships. of course there is a wide range, and undoubtedly there are still many vessels afloat in which the food and accommodation and the conditions of labour are no whit better than what was the rule thirty years ago, and is happily the exception now. there is, notwithstanding all this, much still to be done in order to bring the lot of our workers at sea up as nearly as possible to the standard obtaining on shore, and it is pleasant to know and realise that some of the most strenuous efforts in this laudable direction are being made by ship-owners themselves. officers and seamen, too, are doing their share; and when once we can get the press generally to take an interest in our splendid mercantile marine, and deal with its stirring story from the point of view of knowledge, i believe[199] that sea life will have little to fear by comparison with any other calling, as far as the lot of the seafarer is concerned.

with none of these matters, however, did our hero trouble his head. he was in the happy position of being in love with his work, healthy, full of energy, and of a temperament to make the best of everything. added to this he was fortunate enough to be with men who appreciated him, and to be free also from the continual croaking of those confirmed human ravens so often met with on board ship, who take a sinister pleasure in dinning into a boy’s ears what a silly ass he is to come to sea. soured in temper and stunted in mind, these old “growls,” as we used to call them, are undoubtedly the means of spoiling the promising career of many a bright young seaman, by making him feel that it is useless for him to go on with a profession which is being continually represented to him as the worst paid, and as having the least consideration of all open to a lad who wants to make his way in the world.

moreover, in great contrast with the last voyage, everything seemed to go on greased wheels, as we say. the crew had settled down to their work in splendid fashion, the weather was all that it should be, and the sealark came bowling along round the cape in fine style before a steady, strong succession of westerly gales, never too strong for her to carry her maintopgallant sail. a deep content was visible on the face of the skipper. he was indeed a happy man. he had[200] nobly won his position, and he was fully justified in the way he was holding it, while the elements themselves seemed to conspire in the determination to do him good. and so in comfortable fashion they ran down the long stretch of lonely ocean until they came in sight of the tiny island of st. paul’s, and hauled up for the passage up the indian ocean.