Joshua Marvel

A curious conversation took place between the two friends, Harry Wall and James Heartsease. In the morning they had refused their portion of food.

"Save it for the women, sir," they said to the captain.

He expostulated with them, and tried to prevail upon them to take it, but he did not succeed.

"Sir," said James Heartsease, "we are going to lie down to die. We both of us feel that our time has come. To rob the poor women of any more food would be simple barbarity. I should like to shake hands with you."

Captain Liddle shook hands with them; and after that they crawled to the women, and shook hands with them, and kissed little Emma Pigeon. Then they crawled away, and lay down side by side.

"The end has come, Jim," said Harry.

"All right, Hal," said James; "it is only a matter of a few years-perhaps not so long as that. If we had had plenty to eat, it might have come just the same. After all, what is time? Draw a breath, and it is gone. It isn't so hard to give up a few years when you think of that. Besides" – But here he paused.

"Besides what, Jim?"

"We are alone; we have no women-ties-no wives, no sweethearts. If we had, I think we should both try to live as long as we could."

"I think so too. 'Tis a good job we are alone in the world."

"Did you notice the women, Hal? I don't think they'll last long."

"One of them won't," said Harry. "Mrs. Pigeon will soon go. Well, you know the reason of that."

"Yes; she gives all her food to her little girl. Women are good creatures, Hal."

"Such as she are. Jim, old boy, a sudden weakness has come over me. Put your face closer to mine-I want to kiss you. Good old boy-good old boy!"

They did not speak for some time after that. Heartsease was the first to break silence.

"Hal, old fellow," he said, "we shall meet somewhere by and by."

"Sure to," said Harry; "somewhere, somehow. It is awfully grand to think of-it is good to believe. I am glad I never did any great wrong to sting me now. Jim, depend upon it, there is only one true religion; that is, the religion of being kind and tender and unselfish-the religion of doing unto others as you would others should do unto you, and of living a good life. Give me the man who does that, and who believes in the goodness and greatness of God. All the rest is mummery. We have agreed upon that, haven't we old boy?"

"Ay, times out of mind."

"Now, I tell you what I am going to do. I don't want to quite starve to death-it would be too painful; it's frightful to bear even now. I don't want to commit suicide, although to throw one's self into the water just now would be, in a certain measure, justifiable. I am going to draw myself close to the edge of the raft; then I am going to sleep. If the waves should chance to wash me over in the night-good! Let them; then I shall know something."

"All right, Hal; I'll lie by your side. Goodnight, old fellow."

"Goodnight."

When the sun rose again, those two good friends had gone to their rest, to meet again. Somewhere-Somehow!

So day after day passed, and their numbers continued to grow fewer, until there were no more than eighteen on the raft. In the first quarter of the second new moon-that is, when they had been on the raft for more than thirty days-Mrs. Pigeon died. When the news went round, there were few dry eyes among the poor creatures. Every one loved her, even to Scadbolt and the Lascar, whose clothes she had mended. It was a wonder how she had lasted so long, for it was with the greatest difficulty she could be prevailed upon to take food; she gave it all to her little daughter. When, almost by force, a small portion had been put into her mouth, Joshua had seen her take it out to feed Little Emma. That is why the child lived while the mother starved to death. Between Mrs. Pigeon and Minnie a strong affection had sprung up. Minnie scarcely ever left the side of the dying woman, and what little she could do to ease her last hours-it was but little, God knows! – she did tenderly and cheerfully. Minnie knew that Mrs. Pigeon was starving herself, so that her little girl might live. The beauty of that sacrifice Minnie was well able to comprehend. She would have done the same. But she was terribly unhappy. She knew by Joshua's manner, and by the few words that he spoke to her-kind one day, constrained the next-that her conduct had added to his unhappiness. She had seen him look at her with such a look of fear and wild amazement in his eyes, as to convey to her the impression that she had done him a great wrong. But so blinded was she by her love, that she could not quite understand the meaning of this; indeed, she did not pause to consider. The night before Mrs. Pigeon died, Minnie lay by her side, talking in whispers. But few words were spoken at a time; Mrs. Pigeon was too weak. The mother lay with her child in her arms, and her husband sitting close to her, his hands clasping his knees, and with an expression of stony despair in his face. So he had sat for three or four days, answering his wife vacantly, and with the air of one whose mind was a blank. Little by little, Minnie had told Mrs. Pigeon her story; and the dying woman, notwithstanding her own great trouble, had wept with Minnie, and sympathized with her. But Mrs. Pigeon, as well as expressing her sympathy, had striven to make Minnie aware of the fault she had committed.

"You see, my dear," she gasped in her weak voice, "he has left a sweetheart at home, and he fears that if it were known that you were in the ship with him, she and his other friends might believe that he had played false with them."

"I never thought of that before," sobbed Minnie. "I only thought of one thing: I loved him, and I wanted to be near him. I didn't want him even to know; and those at home bad no idea of what I was going to do-they can't even suspect."

"But Mr. Marvel fears they may. Then think, my dear, was it not wrong to leave your father?"

"It was-I see it now; but I did not think of it then. But O Mrs. Pigeon if he would only forgive me! If I ask him, he will; but the answer would come out of the goodness of his heart, and while he forgave he would still condemn me. I know it, I know it, for he has never once called me by my name."

Soon after that, Mrs. Pigeon fell into a doze; and waking when it was near midnight, whispered, "Minnie!"

"Yes," answered Minnie. She had been sleeping too, but so lightly that a whisper was sufficient to awake her.

"I have not long to live, my dear," said Mrs. Pigeon; "and I should like to pass my last minutes alone with my husband and child, and to speak to no one but them-to think of no one but them. But before I go, I should be glad to say good-by to Joshua Marvel. Can you bring him to me? Say that I am dying."

Repressing her sobs, Minnie crept to where Joshua was standing on the lookout. He had grown thin and gaunt like the others; his feet were bare, the only pair of shoes he had possessed having been rotted by the salt water; his clothes hung about him in tatters; and his face was covered with hair, which, having not yet grown to a decent length, added to the wretchedness of his appearance. The moon had gone down, and Joshua, shading his eyes with his hand, was looking out to sea, possessed with the fancy that he saw a sail many miles away. This had now become a very common illusion; scarcely a man on board who did not see imaginary sails and ships a dozen times a day. With a weary sigh Joshua dropped his hand.

"It is folly," he muttered; "there's no hope."

Minnie timidly touched his sleeve, but did not succeed in attracting his attention. Then she called softly, "Joshua!" And he gave a gasp, and turned and saw her; but there was not light enough for him to see the tears upon her face.

"Mrs. Pigeon has sent me for you," said Minnie. "She is dying, and wants to wish you good-by."

He followed her in silence to where Mrs. Pigeon was lying.

"Is it so bad?" he asked gently, as he leaned over her close enough to see her poor thin face.

"Yes," she murmured. "Sit by me for a few minutes."

He sat down, and took her wasted hand in his: it was like the hand of a skeleton, thin and cold-a hand already dead, though it closed on Joshua's fingers.

"Every one speaks well of you," said Mrs. Pigeon in broken tones: "I have heard the captain speak many times of your courage and goodness and constancy."

"I have been glad to hear it, and am glad to hear it again," replied Joshua; "it is my best reward as a sailor."

"You have a kind heart, I am sure," continued the dying woman. "If it were in your power to lessen the bitter grief that even a mere acquaintance might suffer, you would do so."

"I think I would."

"I am sure you would; if only for the sake of those you love at home, and to whom you would wish that others might be kind when grief comes to them. You will forgive me for speaking thus; but I am dying, and I am a woman. I cannot say much more; I am too weak. If I could see you do one little thing, I should be glad."

"I will do any thing you ask."

"Because a dying woman asks you; but do it from your own kind impulse as well. That is what I wish. You know who it is that is sitting by us now."

"Yes," he answered with a troubled glance at Minnie.

"She has been very good to me, very kind, very, very patient. And she is so young! Soon you and she may follow me. Think of that."

"What is it you would have me to do?"

"I would have you be kind to this poor child; I would have you, at this awful time, show to her the love that a brother might show to a sister. She has committed a fault; forgive her for it; let her atone for it. Be not you the one to cast the stone at her. And when you speak to her, speak from your heart; for she can read and understand, as all loving women can, the music of the voice."

"Minnie," said Joshua, turning to her. Mrs. Pigeon had loosed his hand; and now be held out his two hands to Minnie. It was the first time he had called her by her name.

"Joshua," she said, with deep sobs, her hands in his, and bowing her head upon his shoulder until her lips almost touched his face.

Was it treasonable to Ellen that he should permit it? Surely not, surely not, at such a time.

"You have made me glad," said Mrs. Pigeon. "Now go. Good-by. Heaven send you peace!"

"And you!" they both said.

Mrs. Pigeon nestled her face close to that of her little daughter, and soon afterwards died peacefully.

Then, for the first time, Mr. Pigeon seemed to awake to the reality of things. Kneeling by the side of his wife, he called softly, "Emma! Emma!" And receiving no answer, shook her gently, and smoothed the hair from her white face.

"Be comforted," said Joshua to him.

"Comforted!" he repeated with a pondering look, as if he were considering what meaning there was in the word. He kissed her passionately, and whispered something in her ear, and waited for the answer that could not come. "My God!" he cried suddenly, "she is dead!"

Minnie placed Little Emma before him, thinking that the sight of his little girl might lessen his grief; but he took no notice of the child, and sat the whole day nursing, the dead body of his wife in his lap. One tin of preserved meat was all that remained now of their stock of provisions. They brought his small share to him; but he motioned them away impatiently and fretfully. They went to him, and endeavored to make him understand that, for the sake of the others, he should allow the remains of his wife to be placed in their poor shroud of sacking; but he met them savagely, and threatened to bite at them and strangle them if they did not let him alone.

"For the sharks to eat," he whispered to the inanimate form; "they want to throw you into the sea for the sharks to eat, my darling. But I'll tear their hearts out before they part us."

When the silver crescent looked down again upon the despairing group, Joshua tried once more to comfort the man, and said, with a heavy heart, that perhaps at the last moment a ship might pick them up. But though he uttered the words, he did not believe in them.

"And if it does," muttered Mr. Pigeon hoarsely, "what do I care now? You don't know what it is to lose the woman you love." He staggered to his feet with the beloved form in his arm. "You want to take her from me; that is why you speak the lying words. But nothing shall part us-nothing."

Her face was lying upon his shoulder, and her fair hair was hanging loosely down over his breast. He took some of the hair in his mouth; and as Joshua saw him standing thus in the moon's light, he thought he had never seen a picture so utterly despairing. Thus the man stood, motionless, for a time, until the captain's lady crept to his side, and tried to console him. Poor thing! she was terribly weak, and the words came from her lips slowly and wearily. He gazed at her vacantly while she spoke, then turned his eyes to his dead wife.

"Emma," he said, "don't fear; nothing that they say shall make me give you up. We will go together-we will go together."

He cast one last look at the peaceful heavens, and whispering, "Lord, receive us!" clasped his wife more closely to him, and jumped into the sea. Two or three heads turned at the plash; but no other notice was taken of the event. They were all too weak and despairing. The captain's wife gasped, with heart-broken sobs, -

"Poor dears! poor dears! Their troubles are over; they are happier than we are."

"Yes, my lady," said Joshua; "but I would not end my life like that. We are in the hands of the Lord; our lives belong to Him."

He stretched himself at full length upon the raft, and took Ellen's picture and the lock of hair from his breast, and kissed them again and again. They, and the Bible that Dan had given him, were his most precious possessions. When he looked up, Minnie and Little Emma were close to him. He took the child's hand; and they remained together during the long, long night.

A dreadful announcement was made the next day. The water that was served out was the last-one tablespoonful each exhausted the store; all the provisions were used up also. It seemed, indeed, as if the best thing they could do would be to die at once by their own hands. The rules made by the council were no longer thought of. Something to eat, something to drink: these were the only laws now. When the next man died, the sailors looked longingly at the body. The Lascar had his knife open, and was about to use it, when Captain Liddle called to him to stop.

"Why?" asked the Lascar, with a savage flourish of his knife.

"Why?" echoed the other men: there were only six of them left altogether.

"Because fish is better to eat than human flesh," said the captain.

"So it is," said one; "but we haven't any more fishing-line."

"Come now," said the captain, "even without that we can manage to catch a shark perhaps. Wait a few minutes. I'll think of a way."

And sure enough, very soon he devised a snare. First a running-bowling knot was made; then they cut a leg off the man that WAS dead (terrible to write, but true), and lashed it to the end of an oar; while on the end of another oar they hung the snare in such a way that the fish, to get at the bait, was compelled to come through it. There were plenty of sharks; and it was not long before one fell into the trap. It was dragged on to the raft; and a few blows from an axe soon killed it. After that, the man was sewed in sacking, and the funeral-service was read over him as it had been over all the others who had been buried in the sea.

During all this time it was evident that they were near the coast, and yet they never saw it. The captain said that they were in the vicinity of the north-east coast of Australia-a part of the continent which had been very little explored. Here came in Rough-and-Ready's experience. He knew something of the country, he said. It was inhabited by the most savage of the Australian natives, and no white man had as yet had the courage to penetrate far into the country.

"Yet we might make the coast," said Rough-and-Ready, "and not see a native for a long time, if we could manage to live; for I don't believe there are a great many of them. Cannibals they are; but, for all that, I should be glad to get among them. We might succeed in working our way down to a cattle-station."

"Would there be really a chance of that?" asked one or two.

"About a hundred to one against us," replied Rough-and-Ready carelessly; "but that would be better than nothing."

Rough-and-Ready gave them a description of some natives that he had seen, and told of their manner of living, their treachery and wildness. It was not very comforting to hear; the prospect of reaching land, and finding themselves in the midst of such savages, was very dismal.

The suffering that they had now to bear-that of thirst-was the most awful experience of all. Some of them grew delirious, and saw gardens and pools of fresh water. "My lady" was one of these. She whispered to her husband that a beautiful garden was within a few yards of them, and that they should reach it presently. She described the flowers and trees, and the cool fruit waiting to be plucked. And as the vision faded, she clutched him by the hand, and cried, "John, John! What are they doing? We are going the wrong way. O my God we have passed it-it is gone!" and lay exhausted. The words came from her parched throat with difficulty; and Joshua shuddered as he touched her face: it seemed to be on fire. Soon, however, the gardens dotted with clear-water fountains, and with trees laden with refreshing fruit, grew again for the delirious woman. She saw them in the water, in the air, in the heavens-so bright, so deliciously cool, that her heart almost burst in the vain attempt she made to reach them with her hand. A little rain fell mercifully, and yet mockingly; for nearly every thing on board was so impregnated with salt as to render the pieces of rags and canvas that were held out to catch heaven's tears no better when they were soaked than if they had been dipped into the sea. Rough-and-Ready took the lining out of his wide-awake hat; and he and Joshua held it out until it was soaked with the blessed drops. The first use they made of the piece of wet rag was to moisten the women's lips with it, and then the little girl's and their own. Little Emma lived still; and Minnie had taken charge of her. As Joshua moistened Mrs. Liddle's lips, the captain, who was lying beside her, motioned him.

"It is all over with me, Marvel," he gasped; "I haven't long to live. If by God's mercy you are rescued, report me at home and say I did all in my power to save the ship." Joshua pressed the dying captain's hand. "Mind, you are first in command now. In a few hours you will be captain. You have risen quickly," he said with a faint smile. "Beware of Scadbolt and that Lascar dog. When I am dead, take my boots-you have none-and what of my clothes may be useful to you; take the log-book too, and keep it safe. There is a record in it of Scadbolt's conduct, and your promotion. It will be necessary in case a ship picks you up. Scadbolt was your superior officer when we left the port of Sydney; and he might bring a charge against you, which, without the log-book, you would not be able to refute."

Joshua thanked the captain for his thoughtfulness, and expressed a hope that it was not so bad with him as he feared. Then the captain told Joshua how, a few days before, he had struck his head against a piece of iron, and how he had lost a quantity of blood. Joshua put his hand to the back of the captain's head, round which a piece of canvas was tied, and felt a great gash there.

"I did not tell any one; but it so weakened me, that I thought I was about to die then. This is a piteous sight!" pointing to his wife. She lay, pale as death, with her eyes wide open, gazing at the gardens in the air. The tears rolled down Joshua's face. "Bury us together," continued the captain. "There are two or three pieces of iron you might put into the canvas with us, so we may sink at once. You will do this?'"

"Yes."

Captain Liddle pressed Joshua's hand, and creeping close to his wife clasped her in his arms. In the mean time Rough-and-Ready was busy squeezing drops of fresh water into a bottle. He saved nearly a pint.

Shortly after that, Joshua was the first to see land. He went to tell the Captain, but could not arouse him; his heart still beat, but very faintly. Night came on soon; and when day dawned again the land was gone. Rough-and-Ready came to Joshua with a grave face. He said nothing; but Joshua understood him. They went to where the lifeless bodies of the captain and his wife lay, and sewed them in canvas, and placed inside the pieces of iron, as Joshua had promised. Joshua read the burial-service as the bodies were thrown into the sea. They sank at once.

"Not many of us left," observed Rough-and-Ready. "I should like to see land again. If we don't sight it soon, we may find that the worst has not yet come. It is as Scadbolt said when the rules were being read, 'Every man for himself now, and God for us all.' But come what may we'll stick to each other and to the women."

"It does my heart good to hear you speak so," said Joshua. "I know what you mean: the worst men are left against us; but we are a match for them, I think. See, here's the log-book, with the poor skipper's last words: 'I appoint Joshua Marvel captain of this raft, made out of the spars of the "Merry Andrew," and intrust to him the charge of the surviving passengers and crew. – John Liddle, Master of the "Merry Andrew."'"

Rough-and-Ready touched his hat in sailor fashion.

"While we are at sea, captain," he said, "I will obey your orders."

A thrill ran through Joshua as he heard himself called captain. Captain! But of what a crew! The promotion had come all too soon.

Before long he had to exercise his authority. They were being, driven on to a reef by a strong current. It was necessary to get the raft into deep water before dark. He gave his orders; and although both Scadbolt and the Lascar saw the wisdom of them, they refused to obey.

"I am captain," said Scadbolt. "You will obey my orders now."

Then Rough-and-Ready took a double-barrelled pistol from his belt, and gave its fellow to Joshua. They covered Scadbolt and the Lascar with them.

"Obey orders!" cried Rough-and-Ready in as loud a voice as he could command. "Obey orders! Speak another word of disobedience, and you are dead men!"

The rebellious men were cowed. With scowling faces they worked as Joshua directed: and with some trouble they got the raft clear over the reef, and floated it into deeper water. The night that followed was a night of great anxiety. Joshua knew that they were near land; and he and Rough-and-Ready kept watches of two hours' duration in turn. The reason of this was, that they did not deem it safe to sleep both at the same time; for they suspected that Scadbolt and the Lascar were only waiting for the opportunity to fall upon them and kill them.

"We have all the fire-arms, thank goodness," said Rough-and-Ready, "and all the powder and shot. We are masters while we can keep these."

He had kept a sharp guard over the firearms, and had indeed secretly dropped three guns into the sea. "Better there than in those rascals' hands," he wisely thought; "we mustn't cumber ourselves with too much lumber."

In the night Joshua whispered to Rachel Homebush and Minnie that to-morrow probably would decide their fate. They revived somewhat at the news, and Minnie directed Joshua's attention to little Emma Pigeon.

"She has not spoken all day," said Minnie anxiously.

Joshua placed his hand on the little girl's heart; it beat, but very faintly.

"She will live, Minnie," said Joshua, "if we can reach land; we are certain to find food then."

While they spoke, Minnie kept Joshua's hand in hers; it was her only comfort, poor child. He was kneeling by her side, and she saw in his face that he had no harsh thoughts for her. They had not exchanged a word about their friends at home, but Minnie said to-night, -

"Joshua, when you first came to our little room-do you remember? – what should we have thought if a wizard had told us this?"

"What, indeed!" replied Joshua; and then, after a pause, "Do you suffer much, Minnie?"

"Not now. Ah, Joshua, if I can only live to repay you!"

"Keep up your courage, Minnie, and pray that we may reach friendly land-any land-to-morrow," was his answer.