The Eagle Cliff. Robert Michael Ballantyne
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the man at the bow failed to unhook his block at the exact same moment as the man at the stern?”
“Yes, I know too well, Giles, for I have seen it happen. The boat, on the occasion I refer to, was hung up by one of the blocks, all the people were dropped into the water, and several of the women and children drowned. But how is Government to remedy that?”
“Thus, Bob, thus. There is a splendid apparatus invented by somebody which holds fast the two blocks. By means of an iron lever worked by one man, the rod is disengaged from both blocks at the same instant. You cannot work it wrong if you tried to do so. Now, the Government has only to compel the adoption of that apparatus in the Royal and Merchant Navies, and the thing is done.”
“Then, again,” continued Jackman, devouring food more ravenously in proportion as he warmed with his subject, “look at the matter of rafts. How constantly it happens that boats get swamped and lost while being launched in cases of shipwreck at sea, and there is nothing left for the crews and passengers, after the few remaining boats are filled, save loose spars or a hastily and ill-made raft; for of course things cannot be well planned and constructed in the midst of panic and sudden emergency. Now, it has been suggested, if not actually carried out, that mattresses should be made of cork, with bands and straps to facilitate buckling them together, and that a ship’s chairs, tables, camp-stools, etcetera, should be so constructed as to be convertible into rafts, which might be the means of saving hundreds of lives that would, under present arrangements, inevitably be lost. Why, I ask, does not Government see to this? have a special committee appointed to investigate, find out the best plan, and compel its adoption? Men will never do this. They are too obstinate. What’s wanted is that our ladies should take it up, and howl with indignation till it is done.”
“My dear Giles, ladies never howl,” said Barret, quietly tapping the end of an egg; “they smile, and gently insinuate—that is always sufficient, because irresistible!”
“Well, being a bachelor I cannot say much on that point,” returned Jackman. “But I was not aware that you were married?”
“Neither am I; but I have a mother and sisters, aunts and cousins, and I know their ways.”
“If such are their ways, I must get you to introduce me to them,” said the woods-and-forester. “Come on deck, now, and I will give you a practical illustration of what might be done.”
Jackman, being an enthusiast, always went at things, “with a will.”
“Bring me a hen-coop, Quin,” he said to the steward, who, having so far completed his morning work, and consumed his morning meal, was smoking his pipe, seated on the rail beside Tips. Tips was an admirer of the Irishman, and, in consequence, an imitator as far as he dared and was permitted.
“Lend a hand, ye spalpeen,” said Quin, going forward, and quickly returning with the coop, from which a cackling of strong remonstrance issued.
“Will ye have the other wan too, sor?”
“Yes, and the main-hatch besides, and a lot of spun-yarn. Of course that’s not strong enough for real service, but it will do for illustration.”
In a few minutes the two hen-coops were placed face to face and lashed firmly together, despite the remonstrative poultry. Then the main-hatch was laid upon the top, and fixed there by means of the iron rings at its four corners.
“Now, Quin, fetch four of the cabin chairs,” said the operator, “and observe, gentlemen, how much more easily and quickly this would have been accomplished if the coops, and hatch, and chairs had been made to fit into each other, with a view to this very purpose, with strong straps and buckles in handy positions. Now, then, for the chairs.”
At each corner of this extemporised raft Jackman fastened one of the cabin chairs, pointing out, as he did so, that there was no limit to the extension of the raft.
“You see,” he continued, “all you would have to do, if the ship were properly fitted out, would be to add chair to chair, bench to bench, cork mattress to mattress, until your raft was as big as you wanted; or you could make two or three rafts, if preferable.”
“But sure, sor, it would be an unstiddy machine intirely, an’ given to wobblin’,” said Quin, who was one of those privileged men who not only work for their wages, but generously throw their opinions into the bargain.
“It would not be more unsteady than the waves, Quin; and as to wobbling, that would be an advantage, for a rigid raft in a rough sea would be more liable to be damaged than one that was pliable.”
The discussion about rafts and ship’s boats which thus began was continued with much interest till lunchtime, for it chanced that John Barret was one of those men whose tendency of heart and mind is to turn everything to its best uses, and generally to strive after the highest point of perfection in everything, with a view to the advancement of human felicity. This tendency called into exercise his inventive faculties, inducing him to search after improvements of all descriptions. Thus it was natural that he and Jackman should enter into a keen controversy as to what was the best method of constructing the raft in detail; and that, when the faithful Quin announced lunch as being, “riddy, sor,” the life-saving machine was left in an incomplete state on the deck.
The interest attaching to this discussion had helped the three comrades and crew alike to tide over what might otherwise have proved a tedious forenoon, for during the whole of that day the dense fog and profound calm continued.
On returning to the deck the discussion was continued for a time, but gradually the interest flagged, then other subjects engaged attention, and the raft was finally allowed to lie undisturbed and forgotten.
“I don’t know how it is,” said Bob Mabberly; “but somehow I always feel a depression of spirits in a fog at sea.”
“Explanation simple enough,” returned Jackman; “are we not constantly reading in the papers of ships being run down in fogs? Where there is risk there is always in some minds anxiety—in your case you call it depression of spirits.”
“Your explanation, Giles, uncomplimentary to me though it be, might have some force if we were just now in the Channel, where being run down in fog is an event of frequent occurrence; but here, in a comparatively unfrequented sea, it would be strange indeed were I to be influenced by such possibilities. What say you, Captain?”
McPherson, who had sauntered towards the group, gazed in the direction where the horizon would have been visible had the fog been absent, and said:—
“Hm!—weel—” and then stopped, as if for the purpose of mature consideration. The audience waited for the announcement of the oracle’s opinion.
“Oo ay—weel, ye see, many persons are strangely influenced by possibeelities, what-ë-ver. There is a maiden aunt o’ my own—she wass niver marrit, an’ she wass niver likely to be, for besides bein’ poor an’ plain, an’ mittle-aged, which are not in my opeenion objectionable, she had an uncommon bad temper. Yet she wass all her life influenced by the notion that half the young men o’ the place wass wantin’ to marry her! though the possibeelities in her case wass fery small.”
“I should like to ’ave know’d that old gurl!” whispered Tips to Quin.
“Howld your tongue, ye spalpeen!” whispered his friend in reply.
“Have you any idea, Captain, where we are now?” asked Jackman.
“Oo ay, we’re somewhere’s wast’ard o’ the Lewis. But whether wast, nor’-wast, or sooth-wast, I could not say preceesely. The nicht, ye see, wass uncommon dark, an’ when the fog came doon i’ the mornin’, I could na’ feel sure we had keep it the richt coorse, for the currents hereaboots are strang. But we’ll see whan it comes clear.”
“Do you believe in presentiments, Giles?” asked Barret, in an unusually grave tone.
“Of course I do,” answered Jackman. “I have a presentiment just now that you are going to talk nonsense.”
Barret was not, however, to be silenced by his friend’s jest.
“Listen,”