She was not seen by one, or a half a dozen, but by all of us, and you can't mesmerize forty-two men. Anyhow it just about knocked the bottom out of what spirits we had left, and they were mighty few. We had been there eight days, and it would take less than another eight to finish the lot.
Anyhow, we weren't going to be caught napping another time, so we instituted a day and night look-out, on a hill top above the camp, where a good view could be obtained all round, northward and westward. The same hill where many other ships' crews have kept their sometimes fruitless vigil, others to watch for their welcome rescuer, and where the Megжra managed to mount a twelve-pounder gun.
The boat we had for general purposes, including fishing, was now detailed to stand by, to intercept any other ship that might come along, and the crew, although allowed to fish, were forbidden to be out of hail. We launched another boat for a fishing party; she floated, and that is about all that could be said for her. She was nearly as broad as she was long; in fact, it would be interesting to know what kind of ship ever brought her to the island. Then we settled down for another wait, although, as it turned out, not for long.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A TIMELY RESCUE
Later on, that same afternoon, to our joy and amazement, we again heard that welcome cry of "Sail-o!" from the lookout. At once, the fire on the look-out hill was lit, a piece of canvas hoisted up on the flag staff, which we had also rigged, and the boat was instantly manned and shoved off out of the harbour. It was not long before all those who could were up on the look-out hill; and sure enough, there was a little barque which had just rounded the point, sailing along the western side of the island, with just a light breeze, all sails set. She did look a picture; in fact, speaking for myself, there has never been a more welcome picture in my life.
Our vital consideration now was as to whether or not she would see us or our signal; or if our boat would float long enough to be able to intercept her. We waited and waited, as she slowly drew along the land, then at last we knew that she had actually seen us. Down came her t'gallant sails and staysails; up went her mainsail and foresail, and she definitely hauled in towards land. Joy! oh, joy, never was there a more welcome sight. And furthermore, she had also seen our boat, which we watched go alongside, and the Second Mate jump on board.
These then were the questions from Captain Hayward:
"What ship?"
"Holt Hill, sir."
"What happened?"
"Wreck, and total loss."
"How many more of you on the Island?"
"Only thirty-seven, sir."
"My God! I can't take all of you. I'm already short of provisions for my own crew of six."
Then after a few moments anxious thought:
"I will take half of you."
Mowatt replied, "Well, sir, I'm afraid it will mean certain death for those left behind."
"Is it as bad as all that," asked Captain Hayward. Then flinging caution to the wind, "well, all right, tell them all to come along then. We'll manage somehow."
Mowatt was just a bit wise in his generation, and said, "My men all played out, sir. Do you think you could send four of your men in the boat?"
Our boat's crew was played out, even with that short pull, but Mowatt figured that with our of our chaps on board, weak though they were, there would be no likelihood of what had happened that same morning, and it would be all the more certain if he could persuade the Captain to let some of his own men go away with orders for the rest to come aboard. He asked Captain Hayward to stand in as close as he could to the mouth of the lagoon, so that the Coorong, would not need to put a boat out, and we could come off in the contraption we had floating inside the harbour.
Our boat came ashore manned by the Coorong's crew, and told us to get aboard our own boat and come off. The thirty seven of us tumbled into the that old galliot, and with makeshift paddles and oars and got her through the entrance. Fortunately, it was one of those rare days when there was practically no sea, and very little wind. The moment we got into her, the seams started to open, and water commenced to pour in. We baled desperately, with everything we had, and it was the toss of a button whether we would fetch the Coorong by boat or by swimming. We were even tearing our shirts, and stuffing the rags into the seams, in the endeavour to make her float a few minutes more. We got alongside, and the last man was hardly out of her, before she filled and sank like a stone. But we were on board with the welcome feel of a ship under our feet once again.
"Well, boys," said Captain Hayward, "I'm glad to have you on board, and I've put out on the hatch there all the biscuits and butter I've got. Help yourselves, you might as well have one square meal. I really ought not to take you all, but it seems that if I leave you, you may all be dead before the next ship comes along. I'm just trusting to sighting a ship, and getting provisions. I'm part loaded with sugar, from Mauritius to Adelaide, and you can help yourselves to that, for what it's worth."
How she came to stand out of her course from Mauritius to Adelaide was food for quite a bit of thought.
She had a fair wind, and being short of provisions Captain Hayward was particularly anxious to make the best of a fair wind; yet, for some unknown reason, as he relates himself, "I couldn't get St. Paul's out of my mind, and when I went below that afternoon (the one previous to picking us up) I could not sleep. The question as to whether there was anybody on St. Paul's would not leave my mind, partly due, perhaps, to the fact, that I had once taken a crew off there. Finally, in desperation, I came on deck, and gave orders to alter the course for St. Paul's, and I went below, and had my nap, without any further trouble. Up on deck, later on, he thought 'what a pity to be losing this fine fair wind,' for by standing away south to St. Paul's, it meant a precious loss of time. Well I changed my mind, and put her back on her course again for Cape Leeuwin,"
"That night, when I went below, it was just a repetition of the afternoon's efforts to sleep, and to make a long story short, I simply had to get up on deck and alter the course, back again for St. Paul's."
"Of course, this chopping and changing had got the whole crew on their toes, and when finally we did sight the island, nearly everyone was on the look-out."
"It was from a man working on the foretopsail yard," continued Captain Hayward, "that we got the first inkling, when he hailed the deck, saying that he could see a signal flyiing. In a few minutes we saw your fire, and finally the boat, and well, here you are, and I'm very glad to have you."
It was well that Caaptain Hayward put us on drastic rations from the very first, for we never sighted a ship from there to Adelaide, twenty-two days. Half a pound of bread, half a pound of meat, and as much pure unadulterated raw sugar as we cared to eat.
Before that, if anybody had asked me at the age of sixteen, if I could live on sugar, I should undoubtedly have said, "Give me the chance," but as we soon found out, it can't be done.
We arrived in Adelaide a regular pack of scarecrows; thoroughbred ringbolt chasers, which means in ship's parlance, that we were capable of reeving ourselves through any fair sized ringbolt in the deck.
From the Semaphore our fame had spread before us, and when the Coorong docked, the wharfside was packed solid with crowds of those hospitable Australians who, during our stay, did their level best to burst us with good cheer. So the skin and bones brigade mustered on the wharf and gave three hearty cheers for Captain Hayward. Three more for his crew. Then from him, "Three cheers for the crew she's fetched."