"Nordhoff, Charles & Hall, James Norman - Bounty 02 - Men Against the Sea 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hall James)

"The bread! The bread!"

The man had been crouching with his head in his arms, shivering with the cold. He stared aft dazedly. Our bread had been stowed in the bow of the launch, the place least exposed to the driving spray. It was in three bags, and had been covered with the spare mainsail.

"Aye, aye, sir!" Hall shouted back, bending down to raise the canvas and examine what was beneath. A moment later he straightened his back. "One sack is wet, sir!" he shouted. "The lot will be spoiled if it's left here!"

Bligh glanced fore and aft. "Mr. Purcell!" he called.

The carpenter was plying a scoop close beside his chest. Another wave was passing beneath us, bringing fresh sheets of spray, but no solid water this time. He passed the scoop to the man behind him, who began to bail at once.

"Aye, sir," he said.

"Clear your chest of tools; place them in the bilges."

The carpenter removed the tray of small tools, and the heavier ones beneath.

"Now, lads, look alive!" Bligh shouted when all was ready. "Wait till I give the word. One sack at a time! Hall, you and Smith pull out the first and pass it to Lebogue! Then aft to the chest, hand to hand. Mr. Hayward, open the chest when the time comes. Mr. Purcell will cut the seizing and dump the bread in loose. Work fast! It'll be empty bellies otherwise!"

All but those bailing waited in suspense until the launch's bow shot up and she jogged back into the next trough.

"Now!" shouted Bligh.

Off came the sail; the sack was passed swiftly aft from hand to hand, cut open with a touch of the carpenter's clasp knife, and dumpe J into the open chest. Hayward closed the lid with a snap. The sail was safely tucked about the two remaining sacks before we felt the lift of the following wave. In the momentary lulls between Succeeding waves, the other sacks came aft and their contents were safely stowed.

Every man in the boat, I believe, must have drawn a sigh of heartfelt relief. Small as our supply of bread was for such a voyage as lay before us, it was all that stood between us and certain death by starvation. It had been stowed in the chest not a moment too soon.

The seas grew so high that our scrap of sail hung slack from the yard when in the trough, filling with a report like a musket shot as the following sea raised us high aloft. Then the launch would rush forward dizzily, while water poured in over the quarters, and the straining sail, small as it was, threatened to snap the unstayed mast. Mr. Bligh crouched at the helm with an impassive face, turning his head mechanically to glance back as each rearing sea overtook us. Had he relaxed his vigilance for a moment, or made a false motion of the tiller, the boat would have broached to and filled instantly. All hands were now obliged to bail, those who had nothing better throwing out the water with coconut shells. We were greatly hampered by the coils of rope, spare sails, and bundles of cloathing in the bilges.

The force of the gale increased as it veered back to east and to northeast; it was soon apparent to all hands that our sail was too much to have set.

"We must lighten her, Mr. Fryer!" Bligh shouted above the roar of wind and sea. "Each man may keep two suits of cloathing -- jettison the rest! And heave overboard the spare foresail and all but one coil of rope!"

"Aye, sir!" replied the master. "Can we not shorten sail? I fear we'll drive her under with but a single reef!"

Bligh shook his head. "No, she'll do. Over with the spare gear!"

His orders were carried out with an alacrity which showed that those under him realized the imminence of our danger. Though the weight of what we cast away would scarcely have exceeded that of a heavy man, the boat rode better for it, and the clearing of the bilges enabled six of us, bailing constantly, to keep her dry. A quarter of a cooked breadfruit, much dirtied and trampled during our naval engagement with the Friendly Islanders, was served out to each man with half a pint of water.

It was close on noon when the wind veered once more to E.S.E.; and as we could do nothing but run straight before it, the boat was now steered W.N.W. -- in which direction, the Indians had informed us, lay the group of large islands they called Feejee. The sea was now higher than ever, and the labour of bailing very wearisome, but I was losing my dread of the boat foundering, for I perceived that since we had lightened her she rode wonderfully well, and was in little danger with a skillful hand at the helm. At twelve o'clock by the gunner's watch, Mr. Bligh had his sextant fetched out, and with two of us holding him propped up in the stern sheets, he managed to observe the altitude of the sun. Elphinstone was at the tiller, and I noticed with relief that he steered with confidence and skill. Our lives, from moment to moment, depended upon our helmsman. Had there been an awkward or timid man in his place, our chances would have been small indeed.

"We have done well," said the captain, when he had returned to the stern sheet. . . . "Ah, well steered, Mr. Elphinstone! Damme! Well steered!"

A great sea lifted us high and passed under the launch, roaring and foaming on both sides. As we dropped into the calm of the trough,

Mr. Bligh went on: "You see how she behaves, lads? She'll see us through if we do our part! By God, she will! Mr. Fryer, by my reckoning, we have run eighty-six miles since leaving Tofoa."

The wind was our friend as well as our enemy. Captain Bligh's feeling for the launch was shared by every man of us; we were beginning to love her, now that we knew something of her qualities.

"We must have a log," Bligh added. "Mr. Fryer, I count on you and the boatswain to provide us with a line, properly marked. Mr. Purcell, see what you can do to make us a log chip."