Overdue | Page 4

carried, and by the absence of certain
characteristics which proclaim the whaler, and are apparent almost
from the moment when she heaves into full view. There was, naturally,
a vast amount of speculation, not only on the part of the skipper and
mate, but also among our passengers, as to the precise character of her
distress; but probably not one of us came anywhere near guessing at its
extraordinary nature.
Approaching each other, as the two vessels were, it did not take us very
long to close with the stranger; and as we drew near to her it became
apparent that her people were preparing to lower a boat. At the proper
moment, therefore, our mainyard was laid aback, the stranger followed
suit, and a minute or two later the two craft came to a stand abreast of
each other, the stranger about a hundred fathoms to windward of us,
near enough, indeed, for us to read with the unaided eye the name
Mercury upon her head-boards. Then one of her two port quarter boats
was lowered and hauled to the gangway, and with three men pulling,
and one in the stern-sheets grasping the yoke lines, she shoved off and
pulled away towards us, the mate hailing them to come to the lee
gangway, where a side ladder had been dropped over for their use. Her
main deck was crowded with people--men and women--all hanging
over the rail and staring at us with that idle curiosity which is so
characteristic of the uneducated classes. Mr Bryce at once
unhesitatingly pronounced them to be emigrants, an opinion which the
skipper as unhesitatingly endorsed.

The men in the approaching boat were all forecastle hands, the one
steering having the appearance of being either the boatswain or the
carpenter of the ship, and this it was that gave me--and no doubt the
skipper and mate also--the first specific hint of what was actually
wrong aboard the stranger. Nothing, however, was said; and presently,
when the boat came rounding under our stern, Captain Martin and Mr
Bryce descended to the main deck and awaited our visitors at the
gangway, our own steerage passengers, who had crowded the lee rail to
see the strange boat come alongside, respectfully making way for them.
One only of the boat's crew--the man in the stern-sheets--ventured to
come on deck, the other three staring up at the heads peering down at
them from our rail, without saying a word in reply to the multitude of
questions that were fired into them, beyond remarking that "the bo'sun
will tell your skipper all about it."
The boatswain of the Mercury--for such the newcomer proved to be--
passed through our gangway, pulled off the knitted woollen cap which
decorated his head, and at once addressed himself to the skipper.
"Mornin', sir," he remarked. "My name's Polson--James Polson, and I'm
bo'sun of the Mercury, which ship you see hove-to yonder,"--with a
flourish of his hand in the direction of the vessel named.
"Yes?" said the skipper enquiringly, as the man paused, apparently
waiting to be questioned after this introduction of himself. "I see you
have a signal of distress flying. What's wrong with you?"
"Well, the fact is, sir, as we've lost our cap'n and both mates--"
answered the man, when the skipper struck in amazedly:
"Lost your captain and both mates! How in the name of Fortune did
that happen?"
"Well, sir, you see it was this way," was the reply. "When we'd been
out about a week--we're from Liverpool, bound to Sydney, New South
Wales, with a general cargo and two hundred emigrants--ninety-seven
days out--when we'd been out about a week, or thereabouts--I ain't

certain to a day or two, but it's all wrote down in the log--Cap'n Somers
were found dead in his bunk by the steward what took him in a cup o'
coffee every mornin' at six bells; and Mr Townsend--that were our
chief mate-- he took command o' the ship. Then nothin' partic'lar
happened until we was well this side o' the Line, when one day, when
all hands of us was shortenin' sail to a heavy squall as had bust upon us,
Jim Tarbutt, a hordinary seaman, comin' down off the main tops'l yard
by way o' the backstays, lets go his hold and drops slap on top o' Mr
Townsend, what happened to be standin' underneath, and, instead of
hurtin' of hisself, broke t'other man's neck and killed him dead on the
spot! Then," continued Polson, regardless of the ejaculations of
astonishment and commiseration evoked by the recital of this
extraordinary accident, "then Mr Masterman, what were origin'lly our
second mate, he up and took charge, and navigated us to somewheres
about where we are now. But four nights ago come last night--yes,
that's right, it were