Yorke The Adventurer

“On landing at the village, I was met by the head man, who wanted to know if I would buy a couple of pigs from him. I told him to take them on board to the mate, who would pay him; then, the guide leading, we struck out into the forest. After going about a mile or so, the nigger was joined by half a dozen young bucks, all armed with spears and clubs. I asked the guide, who spoke a little English, what they wanted; he replied that they wished to see me shoot.

“‘Very well,’ I said, ‘go ahead then, all of you.’

“The bucks grinned, but instead of going ahead stepped back to let me pass, and fell in, in single file at the rear, the guide still leading. Now, I didn’t like that at all, and I turned round to tell them to go in front of me; I was just in time to save myself from getting a spear through my back—as it was, it whizzed through the side of my coat, and in another second the nigger who threw it had a charge of shot through his brains. Then, slewing round, I was just able to drop the guide, who was running off with the rifle. I hit him in the back, and saw him fall, then took cover behind a big tree to load again; but every other nigger had vanished, and then I heard a sound that filled me with dread for those on board the cutter—the loud, hoarse bellowing of conch shells.

“I ran over to the guide, who was lying where he had fallen. I don’t think he was mortally wounded, for he was quite thirty yards off when I fired. However, I made certain of him by cracking his skull with a long-handled club he carried. Then I loaded the Sharp’s rifle, slung it over my shoulder by its sling; and started back for the village at a run, holding my shot gun ready cocked.

“When I reached the village, I could not see a soul—every house was deserted, but from the sea front I could hear diabolical yells and cries. I had to run another hundred yards or more before I came in sight of the cutter, and the moment I did so, I saw that it was all over with poor Merriman and the others—the vessel was simply swarming with niggers, and surrounded by canoes, into which they were already throwing the plunder!

“I rested a minute or so to get my breath and steady my hand, and then opened fire. The cutter was not two hundred yards away from where I stood, and the very first shot plumped right into the black, surging crowd on deck, and one nigger gave his last jump. I fired three more shots into them before they had time to get into their canoes, or spring overboard to swim ashore. Most of the canoes made off to the south, around a point, but three or four of them came right in towards me, heading for the village. I don’t think any of them saw me, for I was lying down among the roots and débris of a fallen tree, just above high water mark. They came in, paddling like mad, but not uttering a sound. I waited till the first canoe was within ten yards of me, and then fired both barrels of my gun in quick succession right into them, nearly blowing the chest out of the old chief, who was seated amidships, and wounding all the others. Then I got to work with my rifle again on the other canoes; and, although the moment they saw me, the niggers jumped overboard and dived, I got one for every shot of the last six cartridges—whenever one got into shallow water and stood up to run, down he went.

“Then, taking both shot gun and rifle by the barrels, I smashed them on a rock, tore off my clothes and boots, and started to swim off to the vessel, looking behind me every now and then to see if the niggers were following. But they had had enough of me, and their empty canoes were drifting about the bay.

“I got alongside, clambered up over the waist, and saw a sight I shall never forget—every one of my poor shipmates had been ruthlessly slaughtered, and their mutilated bodies, stripped of every bit of clothing, were lying about the deck. A very brief examination showed me that every one of them was dead—in fact their heads had been beaten to pulp, and each body was pierced through and through with spear wounds and hacked and chopped about with tomahawks; while the deck was just a puddle of blood, mixed with sticks of tobacco, pieces of print, knives, and all sorts of trade goods.

“The first thing I did was to try and hoist the mainsail so as to get under way, but the black devils had cut away a lot of the running gear, and the halliards had been severed and lay on the deck, ready to be taken on shore with the other loot littered about, though the sail itself had not been damaged. The jib and staysail, also, I could not hoist: they were lying in a heap on the windlass with a dead nigger on top, and, further aft, were another two of the gentry, one dead and one with a smashed thigh bone. I slung the wounded man overboard to the sharks, and then began to consider what was best to do. The niggers, I felt certain, would not tackle the cutter again, when they knew I was safe on board, but I determined to make certain.

“You noticed those two brass three-pounders I carry? Well, the first thing I did was to load them with heavy charges of round bullets, and some nuts and bolts. Then I got up a dozen or so of rifles, and plenty of ammunition, and laid them in readiness on the skylight; for, although the niggers had turned my cabin upside down when looting the ship, there were any amount of small arms and various stores in the little hatch under the cabin table; besides these, I had some more in my own berth in a locker.

“Just as I was taking a long drink at the scuttle butt, I saw some of the niggers creeping back to the village through the trees, and watching what I was doing. I soon let them know.

“The cutter had swung round, and was broadside on to the houses, so taking the gun on the port side over to the starboard, I secured it well, and then trained it with the other on the biggest house in the village—a sort of meeting-house or temple, or some such darned thing. I can tell you, gentlemen, I felt as if I could laugh when I saw quite a score of the black swine go into this house, one after another. I had friction tubes in both guns, and waited for another five minutes; then I fired them one after another. Whether many or any niggers were killed, I do not know; but there was a fearful howling, which did me good to hear, and the front of the house went into splinters under the heavy charges of the guns, and in five seconds the village was deserted again.

“Before I did anything more for my own safety, I got some sailcloth and rugs, and covered the bodies of my shipmates—the dreadful appearance they presented just unnerved me, and I felt like sitting down and crying. But I had to hustle. I wanted to get under way as quickly as possible before darkness came on, and it was now noon.

“First of all I rove the mainsail halliards, and then bent on the jib, stopping only now and then to fire a rifle at the village, just to let the natives know I was keeping my eyes skinned. Then I hoisted the mainsail and hove up my anchor without any trouble, for the wind was very light, and got a good cant off shore as soon as I ran up the jib.

“As soon as I was well away from the land, I stood north—about so as so clear Cape Queen Charlotte, the westerly point of New Hanover, and ran on for three or four hours, the vessel steering herself while I sewed up poor Merriman’s and the boatswain’s bodies as well as I could under the circumstances. I should have done the same for the natives had I had the time, especially for Rul, but I had not. About dusk I brought to, just off the Cape, and dropped them over the side one after another—only just realising, ten minutes previously, that I was still stark naked!

“After rounding the north point of New Hanover, I stood away down the coast of New Ireland till I made Gerrit Denys Island, where I anchored for a couple of days, the natives being very friendly, and giving me all the fresh provisions I wanted for a little tobacco and some hoop-iron. There was an old white beachcomber named Billy living with them; he seemed to do pretty well as he liked, and had a deal of influence with them, not allowing any one of them to hang about the vessel after sunset, and each night he slept on board with me. I gave him a case of Hollands for lending me a hand to set up my rigging, which so pleased him that he turned to and got drunk in ten minutes.

“After leaving Gerrit Denys I had a hard struggle to make Cape St. George, on the south end of New Ireland. For eight or ten days I had rainy weather, with heavy squalls from the eastward, and did not feel very well into the bargain, for I had a touch of fever and ague.”

I asked him how he managed at night-time as regarded sleep.

He laughed quietly, and assured us that he never lost a night’s rest during the whole of the time he was at sea. He would simply “scandalise” his mainsail without reefing it, haul the staysail sheet to windward, and let the cutter head reach till daylight. The Francesco he said—and I afterwards found out that he was not over-rating her qualities—was a marvellous little vessel for taking care of herself.

“Well, I jogged along till one Sunday morning, when I made the land between Cape Bougainville and Cape St. George. It had been raining in torrents for two days, and I was feeling a bit done up; so, picking out a quiet little bay with thick forest growing right down to the water’s edge, and not a sign of a native or native house, I ran in and let go in fifteen fathoms, but within a stone throw of the shore. And I’ll be hanged, gentlemen, if I did not see, ten minutes afterwards, the smoke of half a dozen signal fires rising over the trees from as many different places, and all within three miles of the cutter. However, I was too weak to heave up again, even had I felt inclined. I wanted to cosset myself up, and get a good sweating between thick blankets to drive some of the fever out of me; and, niggers or no niggers, I meant to do so that day. Then I thought of a dodge—I mean the broken-glass trick.

“In the hold were half a dozen barrels of empty gin, beer, and whisky bottles. We had put them aside to give to the Admiralty Island people—especially the women and children—who attached some value to them as water holders. I brought up sixty or seventy dozen, and smashed them up in a clean hogshead. Then I turned the whole lot out in a heap on the main hatch, got a shovel, and covered the entire deck fore and aft, first getting all loose ropes, &c, out of the way, as I did not want to get any glass in my own hands when I next handled the running gear. After that I went below, lit a spirit lamp, and made myself a big bowl of hot soup—real hot soup—a small tin of soup and bouilli, and a half bottle of Worcester sauce with a spoonful of cayenne pepper and a stiff glass of brandy thrown in.

“It touched me up, I can tell you, but I knew it would do me good as I lay down in my bunk, rolled myself in a heavy blanket, and piled over me every other rug and blanket I could find. In half an hour I was sweating profusely, for not only was the soup remedy working, but the little cabin, having every opening closed, was stiflingly hot. However, I stuck it out for a good two hours, till I felt I could stand it no longer; so I got up, unfastened my cabin door to get some air, and began rubbing myself down with a coarse towel. Heavens! it felt delightful; for although my bones still ached, and I was very shaky on my legs, my head was better, and my spirits began to rise. I put on my pyjamas, went on deck, and had a look round. It was nearly dark, the rain had cleared off, a young moon was just lifting over the trees, and the little bay was as quiet as the grave—except for the cries of a colony of flying foxes which lived in a big vi tree just a cable’s length away from the cutter.

“I knew that the New Britain and New Ireland natives don’t like going out after dark, and that if these people meant mischief to me, they would wait till just before daylight, when they would expect to find everyone on board asleep; so, feeling much better and stronger, I turned in at eight o’clock, and slept till past midnight. I made some coffee, drank it, and laid down again, dozing off every now and then till just before dawn. Then I heard a sudden rush on deck, followed by the most diabolical howls and yells as twenty or thirty niggers jumped overboard with bleeding feet, many of them leaving their clubs lying on the deck. I put my head out of the cabin, and gave them half a dozen revolver shots, but I’m afraid I didn’t hit any of the beggars.

“I got away on the same morning, and made a fine run right across St. George’s Channel, and along the New Britain coast till I made Cape Roebuck. Once the cutter did a steady nine knots for thirty hours. After running on that reef, I did not drop anchor again till I brought up off a rocky beach a few miles from here; and there the niggers made another try to get me, but the broken glass again proved effectual.”

“It’s a mighty smart dodge, Captain Yorke,” said Guest, as we rose and shook hands with him, for he was going to sleep on board his own vessel.

Chapter III

We lay under the lee of the South Cape or New Britain for nearly a fortnight, during which time we effected all the necessary repairs to our own vessel, and fitted Yorke’s cutter with a new rudder. So far he had not told us anything further of his intentions as regarded either the further prosecution of his trading voyage, or its abandonment. At breakfast one morning, Guest told him that he (Yorke) could have a couple of our native hands to help him work the cutter to Manila, or any other port in the China Seas, if he so desired.

He stroked his big, square jaw meditatively.

“That is very kind of you, Captain Guest,” he said; “but to tell you the exact truth, I don’t know my own mind at this moment. I’ve a hazy sort of an idea that I’d like to keep the Fray Bentos company for a bit longer. I can outsail you in light winds—and I really don’t care what I do now. And if you can spare me a couple of hands, I could jog along in company with you indefinitely. But, please understand me—I don’t want to thrust myself and the Francesco into your company if you don’t want me. As a matter of fact, I don’t care a straw where I go—but I certainly would like to keep in company with you, if you don’t object. Perhaps you would not mind telling me where you are bound?”

Guest looked at me interrogatively.

“Well, Captain Yorke,” I said, “one confidence begets another; your confidence in us is worth a heap of money to Guest and myself, and, to be perfectly frank and straightforward with you, the captain and myself intended to lay a proposition before you whereby we three might possibly go into this New Hanover venture on our own hook. But Guest and myself are bound to our present employers for another seven months.”

Yorke nodded. “That will be all right. I’m ready to go in with you, either at the end of seven months or at any other time which may suit you. You can count on me. I’m not a rich man, nor yet am I a poor man; in fact, there’s a thousand pounds’ worth of stuff under the Francesco’s hatches now.”

“Well then, Captain Yorke,” I said, “as Guest here leaves me to do all the talking, I’ll tell you why we are so far up to the northward, out of our usual beat. We heard in Samoa that a big ship, named the Sarawak had run ashore and been abandoned at Rook Island, in Dampier Straits, between the west end of New Britain and the east coast of New Guinea, and both Guest and myself know her to be one of the largest ships out of Liverpool; she left Sydney for Hongkong about six months ago with a general cargo. And ‘there be pickings,’ for she is almost a new vessel, and her gear and fittings alone, independent of her cargo, ought to be worth a thousand pounds. All we could learn at Samoa was that she had run up on a ledge of reef on Rook Island, and that the skipper, with three boats’ crews, had started off for Thursday Island, in Torres Straits. Now, it is quite likely that, if she has not broken up, there may be a lot of money hanging to it.”

“For your owners!” said Yorke, with his slow, amused smile.

“Just so, Captain Yorke. ‘For our owners,’ as you say. But even our owners, who are rather ‘sharp’ people, are not a bad lot—they’ll give Guest and myself a bonus of some sort if we do them good over this wrecked ship.”

“And if you don’t ‘do them good’?” he asked, with the same half-humorous, half-sarcastic smile.

“If we don’t, the senior partner in our highly-esteemed, sailor-sweating firm, will tell Guest and myself that we ‘made a most reprehensible mistake,’ and have put the firm to a considerable loss by doing too much on our own responsibility.”

He nodded as I went on—“We heard of this wreck from the officers of a French cruiser which called at Samoa while we were there. They sighted her lying high and dry on the reef, sent a boat ashore, and found her abandoned. She was bilged, but not badly, as far as they could see. On the cabin table was nailed a letter, written by the captain, saying that being unable to float the ship again, and fearing that he and his unarmed crew would be attacked by the savages, he was starting off in his boats for Thursday Island, the nearest port. Now, that is a big undertaking, and the chances are that the poor fellows never reached there. However, Guest and I thought so much of the matter that we hustled through our business in Samoa, and sailed the next day direct for Rook Island, instead of doing our usual cruise to the eastward. But we met with fearful weather coming up through the Solomon Group, lost our foretopmast, and strained badly. And here we are now, tied up by the nose off the South Cape of New Britain instead of being at Rook Island at work on that wreck.”

Yorke thought a moment. “Well, gentlemen, let me come in with you—just for the fun of the thing. I don’t want to get any money out of it, I assure you, and I’ll lend you a hand with the wrecking work.”

“Agreed,” said Guest, extending his hand, “but only on this condition—whatever our owners give Drake and myself, we three divide equally.”

“As you please, as you please,” he said. “Now come aboard my little hooker, and have a look at what is in the hold.”

We went on board the Francesco with him, and made an examination of her small but valuable cargo, and Guest and I agreed that he had underestimated its worth by quite four hundred or five hundred pounds—in fact, the whole cargo would sell in Sydney or San Francisco for about sixteen hundred pounds.

We sailed together that afternoon, the cutter getting under weigh first. We had given Yorke three of our men—Napoleon the Tongan, and two other natives—and before ten minutes had passed, Guest and everyone else on board the Fray Bentos could see that the Francesco could sail rings round our old brigantine, even in a stiff breeze, for the cutter drew as much water as we did, and had a big spread of canvas. By nightfall we were running before a lusty south-east breeze, the cutter keeping about half a mile to windward of us, and taking in her gaff topsail, when it became dark, otherwise she would have run ahead of, and lost us before morning. At daylight, when I went on deck, she was within a cable’s length, Yorke was steering—smoking as usual—and no one else was visible on deck.

I hailed him: “Good morning, Captain; where are your men?” “Taking it out in ‘bunk, oh,’” he answered with a laugh. “I came on deck about two hours ago, and told them to turn in until four bells.”

“You’ll ruin them for the Fray Bentos, sir,” cried our mate with grumbling good-humour. “Why don’t you start one of ‘em at the galley fire for your coffee!”

“Because I’m coming aboard you for it,” was the reply. He hauled in the main-sheet, lashed the tiller, went quietly forward without awakening his native seamen, and put the staysail to windward. Then he came amidships again to the main hatch, picked up the little dingy which was lying there, and, despite his bad hand, slid her over the cutter’s rail into the water as if she were a toy, got in, and sculled over to the brigantine, leaving the cutter to take care of herself!

Charley King, the mate of the Fray Bentos turned to me in astonishment. He was himself one of the finest built and most powerful men I had ever met, not thirty years of age, and had achieved a great reputation as a long-distance swimmer and good all-round athlete.

“Why, Mr. Drake, that dingy must weigh three hundred pounds, if she weighs an ounce, for she’s heavy oak built! And yet with one gammy hand he can put her over the side as if she was made of brown paper.”

Yorke sculled alongside, made fast to the main chains, clambered over the bulwarks, and stepped aboard in his usual quiet way, as if nothing out of the common had occurred, and asked the mate what he thought of the Francesca as a sailer. King looked at him admiringly for a moment.

“She’s a daisy, Captain Yorke.... but you oughtn’t to have put your boat over the side by yourself, sir, with that bad hand of yours.”

The big man laughed so genuinely, and with such an infectious ring in his voice, that even our Kanaka steward, who was bringing us our coffee, laughed too. The dingy, he said, was very light, and there was no need for him to call one of the men to help him. As we drank our coffee he chatted very freely with us, and drew our attention to the lovely effect caused by the rising sun upon a cluster of three or four small thickly-wooded islets, which lay between the two vessels and the mainland of New Britain, whereupon King, who had no romance in his composition, remarked that for his part he could not see much difference between one sunrise or sunset and another. “One means a lot of wind, and another none at all; one means decent weather and another means rotten weather, or middlin’ weather.”

“Ah, Mr. King, you look at everything from a sailor’s point of view,” he said good-naturedly. “Now, there’s nothing gives me more pleasure than to watch a sunset and sunrise anywhere in the tropics—particularly if there’s land in the foreground or background—I never miss a sunrise in the South Seas if I can help it.”

Presently we began to talk of the voyage, and I asked him a question—which only at that moment occurred to me—concerning himself before we met.

“I wonder, Captain Yorke, when your crew were cut off, that it did not occur to you to run down the west coast of New Ireland, between it and New Britain, to Blanche Bay, where there is a German station, and where you could have obtained assistance. It would have been much easier for you instead of that long buffeting about on the east coast.”

He made no answer at first, and I saw that his face had changed colour. Then he answered slowly:

“Just so. I knew all about the Germans at Blanche Bay, but I did not want to go there—for very good reasons. Will you come aboard and have some breakfast with me? I’ll send you back again any time you like; the sea is so smooth, as far as that goes, that I could run the cutter alongside, and let you step off on to your own deck.”

Just as we were pushing off from the brigantine, Guest came on deck, glass in hand, to have a look at the cluster of islands, at the same time calling out to Yorke and myself to wait a little. After scanning the islands from the deck, he went aloft for a better view, then descended and came aft again to the rail.

“Good morning, Captain Yorke. I’ve just been taking a look at those islands over there, and an idea has just come to me. But, first of all, are they marked on your chart? They are on mine, but not even named—just dots.”

“Neither are they on my big sheet chart—and I have no other of this part of the Western Pacific.”

“Well then, here’s my idea. I see from aloft that there is a good-sized blue water lagoon there, and as likely as not there may be pearl-shell in it. Anyway, it’s worth seeing into, and so if Drake and yourself like to take our boat and half a dozen men, you might have a look in there. I can’t see any houses, but at the same time, be careful. You can run in with the cutter pretty close, and then go ashore in the boat. You are bound to find a passage into the lagoon somewhere or other. I’ll send Tim Rotumah and George” (two of our native crew who were good divers) “with you in the boat; they’ll soon let you know if there is any shell in the lagoon. If there is, light a fire, and make a smoke, and I’ll anchor the brigantine and come after you.”

I was delighted with this, and at once returned on board, while Yorke went off to the cutter to give his crew their instructions. In ten or fifteen minutes the whaleboat was over the side awaiting me, manned by six of our native crew, all of whom were armed with Snider carbines and revolvers. Pushing off from the Fray Bentos, we went alongside the Francesco to pick up Yorke, who was waiting for the boat. As the wind had now fallen very light, he suggested to me to make a start at once, leaving the cutter in charge of Napoleon, with orders to anchor if it fell calm, and he was on easy soundings.