Blown to Bits | Page 2

than an amateur. I told you that a
youth taken fresh from college, without any previous experience of the
sea except in boats, could not be licked into shape in so short a time. It
is absurd to call me first mate of the Sunshine. That is in reality Mr
Moor's position--"
"No, it isn't, Nigel, my son," interrupted the captain, firmly. "Mr Moor
is second mate. I say so, an' if I, the skipper and owner o' this brig,
don't know it, I'd like to know who does! Now, look here, lad. You've
always had a bad habit of underratin' yourself an' contradictin' your
father. I'm an old salt, you know, an' I tell 'ee that for the time you've
bin at sea, an' the opportunities you've had, you're a sort o' walkin'
miracle. You're no more an ammytoor than I am, and another voyage or
two will make you quite fit to work your way all over the ocean, an'
finally to take command o' this here brig, an' let your old father stay at
home wi'--wi'--"
"With the Poetess," suggested Nigel.
"Just so--wi' the equal o' Dibdin, not to mention the other fellow. Now
it seems to me--. How's 'er head?"
The captain suddenly changed the subject here.
Nigel, who chanced to be standing next the binnacle, stooped to
examine the compass, and the flood of light from its lamp revealed a
smooth but manly and handsome face which seemed quite to harmonise
with the cheery voice that belonged to it.
"Nor'-east-and-by-east," he said.
"Are 'ee sure, lad?"
"Your doubting me, father, does not correspond with your lately
expressed opinion of my seamanship; does it?"
"Let me see," returned the captain, taking no notice of the remark, and

stooping to look at the compass with a critical eye.
The flood of light, in this case, revealed a visage in which good-nature
had evidently struggled for years against the virulent opposition of
wind and weather, and had come off victorious, though not without
evidences of the conflict. At the same time it revealed features similar
to those of the son, though somewhat rugged and red, besides being
smothered in hair.
"Vulcan must be concoctin' a new brew," he muttered, as he gazed
inquiringly over the bow, "or he's stirring up an old one."
"What d'you mean, father?"
"I mean that there's somethin' goin' on there-away--in the
neighbourhood o' Sunda Straits," answered the Captain, directing
attention to that point of the compass towards which the ship's head
was turned. "Darkness like this don't happen without a cause. I've had
some experience o' them seas before now, an' depend upon it that
Vulcan is stirring up some o' the fires that are always blazin' away,
more or less, around the Straits Settlements."
"By which you mean, I suppose, that one of the numerous volcanoes in
the Malay Archipelago has become active," said Nigel; "but are we not
some five or six hundred miles to the sou'-west of Sunda? Surely the
influence of volcanic action could scarcely reach so far."
"So far!" repeated the captain, with a sort of humph which was meant
to indicate mild contempt; "that shows how little you know, with all
your book-learnin', about volcanoes."
"I don't profess to know much, father," retorted Nigel in a tone of
cheery defiance.
"Why, boy," continued the other, resuming his perambulation of the
deck, "explosions have sometimes been heard for hundreds, ay
hundreds, of miles. I thought I heard one just now, but no doubt the
unusual darkness works up my imagination and makes me suspicious,

for it's wonderful what fools the imag--. Hallo! D'ee feel that?"
He went smartly towards the binnacle-light, as he spoke, and, holding
an arm close to it, found that his sleeve was sprinkled with a thin
coating of fine dust.
"Didn't I say so?" he exclaimed in some excitement, as he ran to the
cabin skylight and glanced earnestly at the barometer. That glance
caused him to shout a sudden order to take in all sail. At the same
moment a sigh of wind swept over the sleeping sea as if the storm-fiend
were expressing regret at having been so promptly discovered and met.
Seamen are well used to sudden danger--especially in equatorial seas--
and to prompt, unquestioning action. Not many minutes elapsed before
the Sunshine was under the smallest amount of sail she could carry.
Even before this had been well accomplished a stiff breeze was tearing
up the surface of the sea into wild foam, which a furious gale soon
raised into raging billows.
The storm came from the Sunda Straits about which the captain and his
son had just been talking, and was so violent that they could do nothing
but scud before it under almost bare poles. All that night it raged.