CHAPTER II.

THE VOYAGE OF THE "VENGEFUL"--TERRIBLE SUFFERINGS AT SEA.

As we crawl up the companion steps that lead from the saloon door to the upper-deck, and leave the companion, we are glad we are in the possession of good sea-legs.

We stand by the bulwark here a few minutes, clinging to the stays, until our eyes get more accustomed to the darkness. Yonder, high overhead, is a morsel of a moon, and the dark, goblin-like clouds are positively racing across its disc.

Look we seawards, and we find the horizon is almost close aboard of us, only the waves between tossing their white manes as they madly gallop past us.

Whew--ew--ew! How the wind whistles through the rigging, and across the scanty canvas!

With uncertain steps we stagger forward. Here is a very narrow gangway betwixt the weather bulwark and the lashed planks that hem or pen the cattle in. They are slipping, and sliding, and moaning low in their shivering misery. We hold our lantern up for a moment, but their pleading eyes appal us, and we hurry on.

Now and then, a bigger wave than usual sends the drenching death-cold spray high above us, and we are fain to cower beneath the bulwarks. But we are past the cattle-pens at last, and, but for our lantern, would stumble over not one man, but many. All young--several, among whom is my grandfather, only boys. He is lying there near the bowsprit, and quite exposed to the elements, his head pillowed on a coil of ropes, but, like most of the others, fast asleep.

Why do they not go below, where they may at least be dry and warm?

Warm! Yes; but I doubt the dryness. Come below and see.

The broad steps are black and slippery, the forehold has a cook's range in it. This is forward. Hammocks all filled, and a bobbing lantern hung more aft. The deck is so low that we clutch the beams overhead to balance ourselves as we examine this floating black hole. All round underneath the hammocks, on lockers, on boxes, on the wet and fulsome deck itself, lie soldiers in every attitude of prostration. Only a few are sitting up. Of these, some are uttering maudlin sentiments, or waving their arms and singing songs we should not hear, while others are playing cards in the uncertain light. But one or two--strange sight in such a place--are kneeling down in prayer.

We cannot stay long down here. The odour would make us sick, sailors though we be. We cannot wonder now that the other recruits prefer the cold, the darkness, and spray on deck.

But listen! The storm rages now more wildly than ever, and we can hear the bo's'n's pipe, "All hands shorten sail!"

This is the order, and men spring from their hammocks and, hardly waiting to dress, rush roughly past us.

Now, all is noise and confusion.

As long as she can, the _Vengeful_ must continue tacking. To lie-to might mean drifting on a lee shore, and no soul could be saved if the good ship once beat her sides against the dark rocks.

An hour passes by. There is no abatement in the terrible gale.

The men are working at the pumps, cheering each other as they do so with snatches of wild song and a merriment that seems sadly out of place. Quite a mill-stream of dark water is rushing over the side, and the jerk, jerk of the pumps can be heard high above the roar of the storm, beating a kind of harsh accompaniment to the men's rough music.

No leak is sprung, yet so fast does she make water that the men are kept steadily at the pumps.

And now comes the order to batten down.

"Rouse up, you lads! Rouse up and tumble down below. Quick's the word."

My poor grandfather feels a foot in his ribs, and, hardly knowing where he is, staggers up, and is almost carried below in the rush.

Luckily we are not down there now. The hold of a slave-ship were surely sweeter far. And there imprisoned they must remain. If daylight brings a lull in this storm the hatches will be thrown open, if the ship founders down they must go--drowned or smothered--like rats in a hole.

And surely this is what it is coming to.

For, hark! again the bo's'n's pipe.

We strain our ears to catch the order.

"Hands lighten ship!"

Yes, the cattle and sheep are to be thrown overboard into the boiling sea, else the ship will sink.

O, the pity of it! and O, the cruelty and terror!

The poor sheep mute, as they always are, in the agonies of death, are speedily disposed of.

Then comes the worst and saddest sight of all, as the struggling, maddened, and bellowing cattle are hoisted with block and tackle, and dropped into the sea.

But this is slow work, and danger presses. A gangway is opened at great risk in the bulwarks, and the remainder of the poor beasts literally slide off the decks, and for minutes you may hear their bellowing far astern, amidst the wash and the dash of the billows.

* * * * *

Then the ship plunges on, and the men resume their work at the pumps: and resume their songs.

Daylight breaks at last. Very slowly, but as it spreads over the sea from east to west, the terrible turmoil of that awful sea is awe-striking. The waves indeed seem mountains high, and tower green and threatening over the ship as if bent upon engulfing her.

The hatches are thrown open later on, and the poor, half-dead soldiers permitted to breathe once more the breath of heaven, and see the light of day.

Truly it has been a fearful night. Nor has it passed without loss of life, for one poor sailor has "lost the number of his mess," as seamen say. He got entangled among the cattle, and was literally rushed overboard with the poor beasts that had been doomed to death.

The storm lulls in a few hours now, and though the darkling land is seen miles to the south, and the wind is still unfavourable, all danger is over for the time.

Five days after this, having encountered head winds, and gale upon gale all the way, the _Vengeful_ sails up the Firth of Forth and anchors off Leith.

Perhaps never were soldiers more glad to get on shore than those poor sea-beaten "Jockie Raws" are, my grandfather included.

But soon, safe in Edinburgh Castle, their sorrows are all forgotten, and they are once more the careless, happy-go-lucky young soldiers, just the sort of boys that were needed to fight for their King and country in the brave days of old.