The Blue Lagoon / Голубая лагуна. Генри де Вэр Стэкпул

give us two half pannikins apiece all round,” said the steward.

      “Maybe,” said Le Farge, “the quarter-boat’s better stocked; pull for her[106].”

      “She’s pulling for us,” said the stroke oar[107].

      “Captain,” asked Lestrange, “are you sure there’s no sight of the dinghy?”

      “None,” replied Le Farge.

      The unfortunate man’s head sank on his breast. He had little time to think over his troubles, however, for a tragedy was beginning to start around him, the most shocking, perhaps, in the history of the sea.

      When the boats were within hearing distance, a man in the bow of the long-boat rose up.

      “Quarter-boat ahoy!”

      “Ahoy!”

      “How much water have you?”

      “None!”

      The word came floating over the moonlit water. At it the fellows in the long-boat ceased rowing, and you could see the water-drops dripping off their oars like diamonds in the moonlight.

      “Quarter-boat ahoy!” shouted the fellow in the bow. “Lay on your oars.”

      “Here, you scowbanker[108]!” cried Le Farge, “who are you to be giving directions—”

      “Scowbanker yourself!” replied the fellow. “Bullies, put her about[109]!”

      The starboard oars backed water, and the boat came round.

      By chance the worst lot of the Northumberland’s crew were in the long-boat—real “scowbankers,” scum; and how scum clings to life you will never know, until you have been amongst it in an open boat at sea. Le Farge had no more command over this lot than you have who are reading this book.

      “Heave to[110]!” came from the quarter-boat, as she laboured behind.

      “Lay on your oars, bullies!” cried the rufaif n at the bow, who was still standing up like an evil genius[111] who had taken momentary command over events. “Lay on your oars, bullies; they’d better have it now.”

      The quarter-boat in her turn ceased rowing, and lay a cable’s length away.

      “How much water have you?” came the mate’s voice.

      “Not enough to go round.”

      Le Farge made to rise, and the stroke oar struck at him, catching him in the wind and doubling him up in the bottom of the boat.

      “Give us some, for God’s sake!” came the mate’s voice; “we’re parched with rowing, and there’s a woman on board.”

      The fellow in the bow of the long-boat broke into blasphemy[112].

      “Give us some,” came the mate’s voice, “or, by God, we’ll lay you aboard[113]!”

      Before the words were well spoken the men in the quarter-boat carried the threat into action. The conflict was brief: the quarter-boat was too crowded for fighting. The starboard men in the long-boat fought with their oars, while the fellows to port steadied the boat[114].

      The fight did not last long, and presently the quarter-boat went away, half of the men in her cut about the head and bleeding—two of them senseless.

      It was sundown on the following day. The long-boat lay adrift. The last drop of water had been served out eight hours before.

      The quarter-boat had been pursuing her all day, begging for water when there was none.

      The men in the long-boat, gloomy and morose, tortured by thirst, and tormented by the voices imploring for water, lay on their oars when the other boat tried to approach.

      Now and then, suddenly, and as if moved by a common impulse, they would all shout out together: “We have none.” But the quarter-boat would not believe. It was in vain[115] to hold the open barrel upside down to prove its dryness, the half-delirious creatures had it fixed in their minds that their comrades were hiding from them the water that was not.

      Just as the sun touched the sea, Lestrange raised himself and looked over the side. He saw the quarter-boat drifting a cable’s length away, lit by the full light of sunset, and the ghosts in it, seeing him, held out in silent appeal their blackened tongues.

      Of the night that followed it is almost impsible to speak. Thirst was nothing to what the scowbankers suffered from the torture of the appeal for water that came to them at intervals during the night.

      When at last the Arago, a French whale ship, saw them, the crew of the long-boat were still alive, but three of them were raving madmen[116]. Of the crew of the quarter-boat was saved—not one.

      Part II

      Chapter X

      The Island

      “Childer!” shouted Paddy, while the children standing beneath on deck were craning their faces up to him. “There’s an island in front of us.”

      “Hurrah!” cried Dick. He was not quite sure what an island might be like, but it was something fresh, and Paddy’s voice was jubilant.

      “Land ho! it is,” said he, coming down to the deck. “Come forward to the bows, and I’ll show it you.”

      He stood on the timber in the bows and lifted Emmeline up in his arms, so she could see something of an unclear colour on the horizon.

      It was not directly ahead, but to the right. When Dick had looked and expressed his disappointment as there was very little to see, Paddy began to make preparations for leaving the ship.

      It was only just now, with land in sight, that he recognised the horror of the position from which they were about to escape.

      He fed the children hurriedly with some biscuits and tinned meat, and then, with a biscuit in his hand, eating as he went, he went about the decks, collecting things and placing them in the dinghy. All the old clothes, a housewife full of needles and thread, such as seamen sometimes carry, the half-sack of potatoes, a saw which he found in the caboose, the precious coil of tobacco, and a lot of other odds and ends[117] he transhipped, sinking the little dinghy several inches in the process. Also, of course, he took the breaker of water, and the remains of the biscuit and tinned stuff they had brought on board. When this was done, and the dinghy ready, he went forward with the children to the bow, to see how the island was showing.

      It had loomed up nearer during the hour or so in which he had been collecting and storing the things—nearer, and more to the right, which meant that the brig was carried by a fast current, and that she would pass it, leaving it two or three miles to starboard. It was well they had the dinghy.

      “The sea’s all round it,” said Emmeline, who was seated on Paddy’s shoulder, holding on tight[118] to him, and gazing upon the island, the green oasis in the sparkling blue.

      “Are we going there, Paddy?” asked Dick, towards the land.

      “Ay, are we,” said Mr Button. “and we’ll be ashore by noon, and maybe sooner.”

      The breeze had freshened up, and was blowing from the island, as though the island were making a weak attempt to blow them away from it.

      Oh, what a fresh and perfumed breeze it was! All sorts of tropical growing things had joined their scent in one bouquet.

      “Smell

106

гребите к ней

107

гребец

108

прохвост (сленг.)

109

разверните лодку

110

Ложись в дрейф!

111

злой гений

112

разразился бранью

113

подойдём вплотную

114

парни на левом борту держали равновесие

115

Было бесполезно

116

были буйнопомешанными

117

всякая всячина

118

крепко держась за него