The flag of distress : a tale of the South Sea

Front matter

' tyCn i

THE

FLAG OF DISTRESS

Contents

CHAPTER L rACW.

A Chase ..."

CHAPTER IT.

Chapter I. A Chase

IN mid-ocean, — the Pacific. Two ships are within sight of one another, less than a league apart. Both are sailing before the wind, running dead down it, with full canvas spread ; not side by side, but one in the wake of the other.

Is it a chase ? To all appearance it is ; a probability strengthened by the relative size and character of the ships. One is a bark, polacca-masted, her masts raking back with the acute shark' s-fin set supposed to be characteristic of the pirate. The other is a ship, square rigged and full sized ; a row of real, not painted ports, with a gun grinning out of each, proclaiming her a man-of-war. She is one, — a frigate, as an}' seaman would say, after giving her a glance, And any landsman might name her nationalit}'. The flag at her peak is one known all over the world : it is the "Union Jack" of England.

If it be a chase, she is the pursuer. Her col org might be accepted as surety of this, without regard to the relative position ,of the vessels, which show the frigate astern, the polices leading.

The latter also carries a flag, of nationality not sc easily determined. Still is it the ensign of a naval power, though one of little note. The five-pointed white star, solitaiy in a blue field, proclaims it the standard of Chili.

Wiry should an English frigate be chasing a Chilian bark? There is no war between Great Britain and Chili, the most prosperous of the South American republics ; instead, peace-treaties, with relations of the most amicable kind. Were the polacca flying a flag of blood-red or black, with death's-head and cross-bones, the chase would be intelligible. But the bit of bunting at her masthead shows nothing on its field, either of menace or defiance. On the contrar}T, it appeals to pit}T, and asks for aid ; for it is an ensign reversed, — in short, a signal of distress.

And yet the ship showing it is scudding before a stiff breeze, with all sail set, stays taut, not a rope out of place ! Strange this. Just the thought of every one aboard the man-of-war, from the captain commanding to the latest joined " lubber of a landsman," — a thought that has been in their minds ever since the chase commenced.

For it is a chase ; that is, the frigate has sighted f sail, and stood towards it. This without changing course, as, when first espied, the stranger, rike herself, was running before the wind. If slowly, the frigate has been gradually forging nearer the pursued vessel ; till at length the telescope tells her to be a bark, revealing, also, the ensign reversed.

Nothing strange in this, of itself — unfortunately, a

A STORY OF £HE SOUTH SEA. 9

si ght too common at sea. But that a vessel displaying signals of distress should be earning all sail, and running away, or attempting to run away, from another making to relieve her, above all, from a ship bearing the British flag, — this is strange. And just thus lias the polacca been acting, still is, — sailing on down the wind, without slacking halyards, or lessening her spread of canvas by a single inch. Certainly her behavior is unaccountable, more than strange : it is mysterious.

To this conclusion have the}7 come on board the war-ship, and naturally enough ; for there is that which has imbued thsir thoughts with a tinge of superstition. In addition to what the}7 see, they have something heard. Within the week the}' have spoken two vessels, both of which reported this same bark, or one answering her description, — " Polacca-masted, all sail set, ensign reversed."

A British brig, which the frigate's boat had boarded, said that such a craft had run across her bows so close, they could have thrown a rope to her ; that at first no one was seen aboard, but, on being hailed, two men made appearance, both springing up to the main shrouds, thence answering the hail in a language altogether unintelligible, and with hoarse croaking voices that resembled the barking of muzzled mastiffs.

It was late twilight, almost night, when this occurred ; but the brig's people could make out the figures of the men as they clung on to the ratlines. And what surprised them equally with the odd speech, •vas, that both appeared to be clothed in skin-dresses, covering their bodies from head to foot. Seeing the signal of distress, the brig would have sent her boat aboard ; but the bar!: gave no chance for this, keeping on without slacking sail, or showing any other sign of a wish to communicate.

Standing by itself, the tale of the brig's crew might have been taken for a sailor's yarn ; and, as they admitted it to be " almost night," the obscurity would account for the skin-clothing. But coupled with the report of another vessel, which the frigate had since spoken, — a whaler, — it seemed to receive full corroboration. The words sent through the whaler's trumpet were, "Bark sighted: latitude 10.22 S. ; longitude 95 W. Polacca-masted. All sail set. Ensign reversed. Chilian. Men seen on board covered with red hair, supposed skin-dresses. Tried to come up, but could not. Bark a fast sailer. Went awa}r down wind."

Already in receipt of such intelligence, it is no wonder that the frigate's crew feel something more than mere surprise at sight of a vessel corresponding to that about which these strange tales have been told. For they are now near enough the bark to see that she answers the description given: "Polacca-masted. All sail set. Ensign reversed. Chilian."

And her behavior is as reported, — sailing away from those who wish to answer her appealing signal, to all appearance endeavoring to shun them. Only now has the chase in reality commenced. Hitherto the frigate was but keeping her own course. But the signal of distress, just sighted through the telescope, has drawn her on ; and, with canvas crowded, she steers straight for the polacca. The latter is unquestionably a fasi sailer ; but, although too swift for the whaler, she is not a match for the man-of-war. Still she is no tub ; and the chase is likely to be a long one.

As it continues, and the distance does not appear very much, or very rapidly, diminishing, the fiigate'i crew begin to doubt whether the strange craft will evei be overtaken. On the foredeck the tars stand in groups, mingled with marines, their e}~es bent upon the retreating bark, pronouncing their comments in muttered tones, manj* of the men with brows o'ercast ; for a fancy has sprung up around the forecastle, tmu the chased ship is no ship at all, but a phantom. This fancy is gradually growing into a belief; faster as they draw nearer, and with naked eye note her correspondence with the reports of the spoken vessels.

The}r have not 3-et seen the skin-clad men — if men they be. More like, imagine some, they will prove to be spectres.

While on the quarter-deck there is no such superstitious fancy : a feeling almost as intense agitates the minds of those there assembled. The captain, surrounded b}T his officers, stands, glass in hand, gazing at the sail ahead. The frigate, though a fine vessel, is not one of the fastest sailers ; else she might long ago have lapped upon the polacca. Still has she been gradually gaining, and is now less than a league astern. But the breeze has been also gradually declining, which is against her ; and for the last half-hour she has barely preserved her distance from the bark.

To compensate for this, she runs out studding-sails on all her yards, even to the i'03-als, and again makes an effort to bring the chase to a termination. But again is there disappointment.

" To no purpose, now," says her commander, as he sees his last sail set. Then adding, as he casts a glance at the sky, sternwards, " The wind's going down. In ten minutes more we'll be becalmed."

Those around need not to be told this. The youngest reefer there, looking at sky and sea, can forecast '■he calm.

THE FLAG OF DISTRESS.

In five minutes after, the frigate's sails are Capping rtgainst the masts, and her flag hangs half folded.

In five more, the sails only show motion by an occasional clout ; while the bunting droops dead downward.

Within the ten, as foei captain predicted, the huge war-ship, despite her extended canvas, lies motionless on the sea.

Chapter II. A Call For Boarder 8

THE frigate is becalmed : what of the bark ? Has she been similarly checked in her course? The question is asked b}~ all on board the war-ship, each seeking the answer for himself; for all are earnestly gazing at the strange sail, regardless of their own condition.

Forward, the superstitious thought has become intensified into something like fear. A calm coming on so suddenly, just when they had hopes of soon overhauling the chased vessel — what could that mean ? Old sailors shake their heads, refusing to make answer ; while young ones, less cautious of speech, boldly pronounce the polacca a spectre. The legends of the Phantom Ship and Flying Dutchman are in their thoughts and on their lips, as they stand straining their eyes after the still receding vessel ; for beyond doubt does she sail on with waves rippling around her.

" As I told ye, mates ! " remarks an old tar : " we'd never catch up with that craft — not if we stood after her till doomsday. And doomsday it might be for us, if we did."

"I hope she'll keep on, and leave us a good spell behind," rejoins a second. "It was a foolish thing followin' her; and, for my part, I'll be^glad if we never do catch up with her."

" You need have no fear about that," says the fiis* 2 i4 THE FLAG OF DIS'IRESS.

speaker. "Just look! She's making way yet! 1 believe she can sail as well without wind as with it."

Scarce are the words spoken, when, as if to contradict them, the sails of the chased vessel commence denting against her masts ; while her flag falls folded, and is no longer distinguishable as a signal of distress, or aught else. The breeze that failed the frigate is now also dead around the bark, which, in like manner, has been caught in the calm.

" What do 3Tou make her out, Mr. Black ?" asks the frigate's captain of his first, ai the two stand looking through their levelled glasses.

" Not any thing, sir," replies the lieutenant, " except that she should be Chilian from her colors. I can't see a soul aboard of her. Ah, 3-onder ! Something shows over the taffrail ! Looks like a man's head? It's ducked suddenly."

A short silence succeeds, the commanding officer busied with his binocular, endeavoring to catch sight of the thing seen by his subordinate. It does not show again.

" Odd," says the captain, resuming speech, " a ship running up signals of distress, at the same time refusing to be relieved — very odd ! Isn't it, gentlemen? " ne asks, addressing himself to the group of officers now gathered around.

Unanimous assent to his interrogatory.

"There must be something amiss," he continues. 44 Can any of 3*ou think what it is? "

To this there is a negative response. Lieutenants and midshipmen seem all as puzzled as himself, m}'stified by the strange bark, and more by her strange behavior.

There are two who have thoughts different from the rest, — the third lieutenant, and one of the midshipmen, —less thoughts than imaginings, and these so vague, that neither communicates them to the captain, nor to one another. And, whatever their fancies, they do not appear pleasant ones, since on the faces of both is an expression of something like anxiety. Slight, and scarcely observable, it is not noticed b}T their comrades standing around. It seems to deepen while they continue to gaze at the becalmed bark, as though due to something seen there. Still the}' remain silent, keeping the dark thought, if such it be, to themselves.

" Well, gentlemen," says the commanding officer to his assembled subordinates, " I must say this is singular. In all my experience at sea, I don't remember any thing like it. What trick the Chilian bark — if she be Chilian — is up to, I can't guess, not for the life of me. It cannot be a case of pirac}'. The craft has no guns ; and, if she had, she appears without men to handle them. It's a riddle all round: to get the reading of it, we'll have to send a boat to her."

"I don't think we'll get a very willing crew, sir," sa}'s the first lieutenant suggestively. "Forward, they're quite superstitious about the character of the chase. Some of them fancy her the Flying Dutchman. When the boatswain pipes for boarders, the3^'ll very likely feel as if his whistle were a signal for them to ralk the plank."

The remark causes the captain to smile, as the other officers ; though two of the latter abstain from this exhibition of merriment. These are the third lieutenant and midshipman, — already mentioned, — on both of whose brows the cloud still sits, seeming darker than ever.

"Isn't it strange," continue? the commander mus*

16 THE FLAG OF DISTBESS.

ragly, " that 3Tour genuine British tar, who will board an enemy's ship, crawling across the muzzle of a shot tec gun ; who has no fear of death in human shape ••-will act like a scared child when it threatens liim in the guise of his satanic majesty ? I have no doubt, as you say, Mr. Black, that those fellows by the forecastle are a bit shy about boarding this strange vessel. But let me show you how to send their shyness adrift. I shall do that with a single word."

The captain steps forward, his subordinates following him. When within speaking-distance of the foredeck, he stops, and makes sign that he has something to say. The tars are all attention.

"My lads!" he exclaims, "you see that bark we've been chasing, and at her masthead a flag reversed, which you know to be a signal of distress? That is a call never to be disregarded 03* an English ship, much less an English man-of-war. Lieutenant, order a boat to be lowered, and let the boatswain pipe for boarders. Only volunteers will be taken. Those who wish to go will muster on the main-deck."

A loud "hurrah!" responds to the appeal; and, while its echoes are still resounding through the ship, the whole crew seems crowding towards the main-deck. Scores of volunteers present themselves, enough to m;an every boat aboard.

"Now, gentlemen," says the captain, turning to his officers with a proud expression on his countenance, " there's the British sailor for 3*011 ! I've said he fears not man ; and when humanity makes call, as 3*ou see. neither is he frightened at a fancied ghost."

A second cheer succeeds the speech, mingled witl O^od -humored remarks, though not any loud laughter. The sailors simply acknowledge the jompliment thei?

commanding officer has paid them, at the same 4ime feel'ng that the moment is too solemn for merriment', for their instinct of humanity is yet under control of the weird feeling. As the captain turns aft to the quarter, many of them fall away toward the fore-deck, till the group of volunteers for bearding has got greatly diminished. Still are there enough to man the largest boat in the ship. .

" What boat is it to be, sir?"

This question is asked bjT the first lieutenant, as he follows the captain aft.

" The cutter," answers his superior, adding, "I think, Mr. Black, there's no necessity for sending any other. The cutter's crew will be sufficient. As to any hostility from those on board the stranger, that is absurd. "We could blow them out of the water with a single broadside."

" Who's to command the cutter, sir?"

The captain reflects, with a look sent inquiringly around. His eye falls upon the third lieutenant, who stands near, seemingly courting the glance. It is short and decisive. The captain knows his third officer to be a thorough seamen ; though j'oung, capable of any duty, however delicate or dangerous. Without further hesitation, he assigns him to the command of the boarders.

The young officer enters upon the service with alacrity, — something more than the meie obedience due to discipline. He hastens to the ship's side to superintend the lowering of the boat. He does not stand at rest, but is seen to help and hurry it, with a look of anxious impatience in his eye, and the cloud still observable on his brow. While thus occupied, he is accosted by another officer, one yet younger than himself, — the midshipman already mentioned.

" Can I go with 3Tou? ' the latter asks.

" Certainly, my dear fellow," responds the lieuten ant in friendly familiar tone. " I shall be only toe pleased to have yon. But you must get the captain's consent."

The young officer glides aft, sees the frigate's commander upon the quarter-deck, and, saluting, saj's, " Captain, may I go with the cutter? "

" Well, yea," responds the chief. " I have no objection." Then, after taking a survey of the youngster, he adds, u Why do 3*011 want it? "

The youth blushes, without replying. There is a cast upon his countenance that strikes the questioner, somewhat puzzling him. But there is no time either for further inquiry or reflection. The cutter is already lowered, and rests upon the water. Her crew is crowding into her ; and she will soon be shoved off from the ship.

" You can go, lad," assents the captain. " Report yourself to the third lieutenant, and tell him I've given you leave. You're young, and, like all youngsters, ambitious of gaining glory. Well, in this affair you won't have much chance, I take it. It's simply boaiding a ship in distress, where you'll be more likery to be a spectator of scenes of suffering. However, that will be a lesson for 3-011, and therefore you may go."

Thus authorized, the 3Toung reefer glides a^ray from the quarter-deck, drops down into the boat, and take? his seat alongside the lieutenant, already there.

The two ships still lie becalmed, in the same relative position to one another, having changed from it scarce a cable's length, and stem to stern, just as the last breath of the breeze, blown gentty against their sails, forsook thorn.

On both the canvas is still spread, though not bellied. It hangs limp and loose, giving an occasional flap, so feeble as to show that it proceeds, not from any stir in the air, but the mere balancing motion of the vessels; for there is now not enough breeze blowing to flout the long feathers in the tail of the tropic bird seen soaring aloft.

Both ships are motionless, their forms reflected in the water, so that each has its counterpart, keel to keel.

Between them, the sea is smooth as a mirror, — that tranquil calm which has given to the Pacific its distinctive appellation. It is now to be disturbed, furrowed by the bow of the cutter, with her stroke of ten oars, five on each side. Almost as soon as down from the davits, her crew seated on the thwarts, and her cockswain at the tiller, the lieutenant gives the command to " shove off." Parting from the frigate's beam, the boat is steered straight for the becalmed bark.

On board the man-of-war, all stand watching her, their eyes at intervals directed towards the strange vessel. From the frigate's forward-deck, the men have an unobstructed view, especially those clustering around the head. Still there is nearly a league between ; and with the naked e}re this hinders minute ODservation. They can but see the white-spread sails, and the black hull underneath them. With a glass, the flag, now fallen, is just distinguishable from the mast, along which it clings closely. The}r can perceive that its color is <,rimson above, with blue and white underneath, — the reversed order of the Chilian ensign. Its sirgle star is no longer visible, nor aught of its heraldry, that spoke so appealingly. But, if the sight fails to furnish them with details, these are amply supplied by their excited imaginations. Some of them see men aboard the bark — scores, hundreds ! After all, she may be a pirate, and the upside-down ensign a decoy, On a tack,»she may be a swifter sailer than she has shown herself before the wind, and, knowing this, has been but plaj'ing with the frigate. If so, God help the cutter's crew !

Besides these conjectures of the common kind, there are those on the frigate's fore-deck, who, in truth, fanc}T the polacca a spectre. As they continue gazing, now at the boat, now at the bark, they expect every moment to see the one sink beneath the sea, and the other sail off, or melt into invisible air.

On the quarter, speculation is equally rife, though running in a different channel. There the captain still stands surrounded by his officers, each with glass to his eye, levelled upon the strange craft. But they see nought to give them a clew to her character ; only the loose-spread sails, and the furled flag of distress. They continue gazing till the cutter is close to the bark's beam. Nor yet can they observe any head above the bulwarks, or face peering through the shrouds. The fancy of the forecastle has crept aft among the officers. They, too, begin to feel something of superstitious fear, an awe of the uncanny.

Chapter III. The Cutter's Crew

MANNED by ten stout tars, with as many or,rs propelling her, the cutter cleaves the water like a knife. The lieutenant, seated in the stern-sheets, with the mid by his side, directs the movements of the boat ; while the glances of both are kept constantly upon the bark. In their e}-es is an earnest expression, quite different from that of ordinary interrogation.

The men ma3T not observe it : if they do, it is t, ithout comprehension of its meaning. They can but think of it as resembling their own, and proceeding from a like cause. For, although with backs turned towards the bark, they cast occasional glances over their shoulders, in which curiosity is commingled with apprehension.

Despite theii natural courage, strengthened by the late appeal to their humanity, the awe is again upon them. Insidiously returning as they took their seats in the boat, it increases as they row farther from the ship, and nearer to the strange vessel. Less than half in hour has elapsed, and they are within a cable's length of the latter.

" Hold, now ! " commands the lieutenant

The oar-stroke is instantly suspended, and the blades held aloft. The boat gradually loses way, and at length rests station sltj on the tranquil water.

All eyes are bent upon the bark. Glances go searchmgly along her bulwarks, from poop to piow. £ta preparations to receive them ! No ono appears on deck, — not a head seen over the rail !

" Bark, ahoy ! " hails the lieutenant.

"Bark, atuyv ! " is heard in fainter tone. It is no answer ; only the echo of the officer's voice, coming back from the hollow timbers of the becalmed vessel. There is again silence, more profound than ever ; for the sailors in the boat have ceased talking, their awe, now intense, holding them speechless.

"Bark, ahoy!" again shouts the lieutenant, louder than before, but with like result. As before, he is only answered by echo. There is either nobotfv aboard, or no one who thinks it worth while to make rejoinder. The first supposition seems absurd, looking at the sail ; the second, equally so, regarding the flag at the main royal masthead, and taking into account its character. A third hail from the officer, this time vociferated in loudest voice, with the interrogatory added, "Any one aboard?"

To the question no reply, any more than to the hail. Silence continues, — stillness intense, awe-inspiring. They in the boat begin to doubt the evidence of their senses. Is there a bark before their e}-es? Or is it all an illusion ? How can a vessel be under sad — full sail — without sailors ? And, if any, why do they not show at her side ? Why have they not answered the hail thrice shouted, the last time loud enough to be heard within her hold? It should have awakened hex crew, even if asleep in the forecastle.

" Give way again! " cries the lieutenant. " Bring up on the starboard side, cockswain, under the forechains."

The oars are dipped, and the cutter moves on. Bui scarce is she in motion, when once more the officer commands, " Hold ! "

With his voice mingle others, coming from the bark. Her people seem at length to have become aroused from then* sleep, or stupor. A noise is heard upon her deck, as of a scuffle, accompanied b}T cries of strange intonation. Soon two heads, apparently human, show above the bulwarks ; two faces flesh colored, and thinly covered with hair. Then the whole bodies appear, also human like, save that they are hairy all over, — > hair of a foxy red. The}' swarm up the shrouds, and, clutching the ratlines, shake them with quick violent jerks ; at the same time uttering what appears angry speech, in an unknown tongue, and harsh voice, as if chiding off the intruders. O11I3" a short way up the shrouds, just as far as they could spring from the deck, and only staying a little while there ; then they drop down again, disappearing as abruptly as they had shown themselves.

The lieutenant's command was a word thrown away. Without it, the men would have discontinued their stroke. They have done so, and sit with bated breath, ej^es strained, ears listening, and lips mute, as if all had been suddenly and simultaneously struck dumb. Silence throughout the boat, silence aboard the bark, silence everywhere ; the only sound heard being the. " drip-drop " of the water as it falls from the feathered oar-blades.

For a time the cutter's crew remain speechless, not one essaying to speak a word. They are so, less from surprise than sheer stark terror. It is depicted on their faces, and no wonder it should. What they have just seen is sufficient to terrify the stoutest hearts, even those of tried tars, as all of them are. A whip manned by hairy men — a crew of veritable Orsons ! Certainly, enough to startle the most phlegmatic, mariner, and make him tremble as he tugs at the oar. But they have ceased tugging at their oars, and hold them, blades suspended, along with their breath. One alone musters sufficient courage to mutter out, " Gracious goodness ! Shipmates, what can it mean? "

He receives no answer, though the silence comes to an end. It is broken by the voice of the lieutenant, and also that of the junior officer. They do not speak simultaneously, but one after the other. The supersti tious fear pervading the minds of the men does not extend to them. They, too, have their fears, but of a different kind, and from a different cause. As yet, neither has communicated to the other what he himself has been thinking, the thoughts of both being hitherto vague, but every moment becoming more defined ; and the appearance of the red men upon the ratlines — strange to the sailors — seems to have made things more intelligible to them. Judging by the expression upon their faces, they comprehend what has puzzled their companions, and with a sense of anxiety more than fear, more of doubt than dismay.

The lieutenant speaks first, shouting in command, " Give way ! Quick ! Pull in ! Head on for the forechains ! "

He acts in an excited manner, appearing nervously impatient. As if mechanically, the midshipman repeats the order, imitating the mien of his superior. The men execute it, but slowly, and with evident reluctance. They know their officers to be daring fellow? both ; but now they deem them rash, even to recklessness ; for they cannot comprehend the motives urging them to action. Still they obey ; and the prow of the boat strikes the bark abeam.

" Grapple on ! " sings out the senior officei, soon as touching. A boat-hook takes grip in the chains ; and the cutter, swinging round, lies at rest alongside. The lieutenant is alread}r on his feet, as also the micL Ordering only the cockswain to follow, they spring up to the chains, lay hold, and lift themselves aloft.

Obedient to orders, the men remain in the boat ; still keeping their seat on the thwarts, in wonder at the bold bearing of their officers, at the same time silently admiring it.

Balancing themselves on the rail, the latter look down upon the deck of the polacca. Their glances sweep it forward, aft, and amid-ships ; ranging from stem to stern, and back again. Nothing seen there to explain the strangeness of things, nothing heard. No sailor on deck, nor officer on the quarter ; only the two strange beings that had shown tnemselves on the shrouds. These are still visible, one of them standing by the mainmast, the other crouching near the caboose. Both again give out their jabbering speech, accompanying it with gestures of menace. Disregarding this, the lieutenant leaps down upon the deck, and makes towards them ; the mid and cockswain keeping close after.