Readying the Lifeboat

Chapter 5

A breeze sprang up and blew off the rain and brought out the sun. Alan and I sat in the roundhouse with the doors open and smoked a pipe or two of the captain’s tobacco. We heard each other’s stories, and I learnt of that wild Highland country where we were soon to land. So soon after the great rebellion, a man needed to know what he was doing when he went upon the heather.

Alan told me he had been in the English army.
“What!” cried I.
“That was I,” said Alan, “But I deserted.”
“The punishment is death,” said I.
“Oh yes,” said he, “if they get their hands on me.”
“Good heaven, man,” cried I, “You are a condemned rebel, and a deserter, and a man of the French kings—what tempts you back into this country?”

“Well, you see, I weary for my friends and country,” said he, “And then I have some things that I must attend to. You see, David, the English rogues tried to break the clans. They stripped the chiefs of power, land, even clothes—they say it’s a sin to wear a tartan plaid. One thing they could not kill. That was the love the clansmen bore their chief. Ardshiel is the captain. The poor folk have to pay rent to King George. They scrape up a second rent for Ardshiel. David, I’m the hand that carries it to him.” “Colin Roy, of black Campbell blood,” he continued fiercely, “makes these poor folk pay triple for their own land. Rent to King George, then rent he knows they save for their chief, then more to him! Ah, Red fox, if ever I hold you at a gun’s end, the Lord has pity on you!”

And with this, Alan fell into a muse and for a long time sat very sad and silent.

It was late at night.
“Here,” said Hoseason at the door, “come out and see if you can pilot.”
“Is this one of your tricks?” asked Alan.
“Do I look like tricks?” asked Alan.
“Do I look like tricks?” cried the captain, “I have other things to think of—my brig’s in danger.”

The Covenant tore through the seas at a great rate, pitching and straining. We were close to the reefs. The captain stood by the steersman, listening and looking steady as steel. Alan was very white.

“What, Alan!” I cried, “you’re not afraid.”
“No,” said he, wetting his lips, “but you’ll agree. It’s a cold ending.”

The tide caught the brig and threw the wind out of her sails. She came round into the wind like a top. The next moment she struck the reef and threw us all flat upon the deck. We could hear her beat herself to pieces on the rock the captain seemed to suffer along with her. His brig was like wife and child to him.

The wounded who could move began to help. The rest that lay helpless in their bunks screamed and begged to be saved.

All the time of our working the lifeboat, I remembered only one other thing. I asked Alan what part of the shore it was, and he answered it was the worst possible for him. It was the land of the Campbells.

A man sang out pretty shrill, “For God’s sake, hold on!” There followed a sea so huge that it lifted the brig right up and tilted her over on her beam. I was thrown clean over the bulwarks into the sea.

I was being hurled along and beaten upon and choked. Presently, I found I was holding to a mast which helped me float. I had travelled far from the brig. I hailed it, but it was plain it was already too far away. I began to feel a man could die of cold as well as drowning.

The shore was close. In about an hour of hard work, kicking and splashing, I could wade ashore on foot.
There was no sound of surf. The sea was quite quiet. The moon shone clear, and I thought in my heart I had never seen a place so alone and desolate.

Stepping ashore, I began the most unhappy part of my adventures. It was hours till dawn and it was cold.
At dawn, there was no sign of the brig, which must have lifted from the reef and sunk. The lifeboat had gone too. There was no sail upon the ocean and no sign of man on the land. I was afraid to think of what had happened to my shipmates, and I worried for Alan.

I was wet, tired and hungry. Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it began to rain, with a thick mist. I had nothing in my pockets but money and Alan’s silver button. I found shellfish among the rocks and ate them cold and raw. At first they seemed delicious, but as long as I was on the island I never knew what to expect when I had eaten. Sometimes I got deathly sick; sometimes all was well.

The second day I walked the island. There was a creek that cut off the isle from the mainland, but it was too wide and deep to cross. I was quite alone with dead rocks, and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea. My clothes were beginning to rot and my throat was very sore.

That day I saw a boat with a brown sail and two fishers. I shouted out and then fell to my knees and reached up my hands to them. The boat never turned aside. I could not believe such wickedness. I wished I could kill them.

The next day I saw the same boat returning. It came within shouting range, but no closer. I was frightened because the men in it were laughing.

One spoke fast with many wavings of his hand. I told him I knew no Gaelic, and I only picked out one word he said—“tide.”
“Yes, yes,” he repeated, “tide.”

They laughed. I ran to the creek. The tide was out, and I crossed over easily to the mainland. The island was what they called a tidal islet and could be entered or left twice every twenty-four hours as the tide fell. I had stupidly starved with cold and hunger for almost one hundred hours. If the fishers had not returned,

Leave a Comment

Shopping Cart
×

Hello!

Click one of our contacts below to chat on WhatsApp

× How can I help you?