Jules Verne (16 page)

And then he had confidence, that brave Sand, and if confidence does not
command itself, at least it commands.

"Dick, my dear child, my captain," said Mrs. Weldon, holding out her
hand to the young novice.

"Ah! Mrs. Weldon," exclaimed Dick Sand, smiling, "you disobey your
captain. You return on deck, you leave your cabin in spite of
his—prayers."

"Yes, I disobey you," replied Mrs. Weldon; "but I have, as it were, a
presentiment that the tempest is going down or is going to become calm."

"It is becoming calm, in fact, Mrs. Weldon," replied the novice. "You
are not mistaken. The barometer has not fallen since yesterday. The
wind has moderated, and I have reason to believe that our hardest
trials are over."

"Heaven hears you, Dick. All! you have suffered much, my poor child!
You have done there—"

"Only my duty, Mrs. Weldon."

"But at last will you be able to take some rest?"

"Rest!" replied the novice; "I have no need of rest, Mrs. Weldon. I am
well, thank God, and it is necessary for me to keep up to the end. You
have called me captain, and I shall remain captain till the moment when
all the 'Pilgrim's' passengers shall be in safety."

"Dick," returned Mrs. Weldon, "my husband and I, we shall never forget
what you have just done."

"God has done all," replied Dick Sand; "all!"

"My child, I repeat it, that by your moral and physical energy, you
have shown yourself a man—a man fit to command, and before long, as
soon as your studies are finished—my husband will not contradict
me—you will command for the house of James W. Weldon!"

"I—I—" exclaimed Dick Sand, whose eyes filled with tears.

"Dick," replied Mrs. Weldon, "you are already our child by adoption,
and now, you are our son, the deliverer of your mother, and of your
little brother Jack. My dear Dick, I embrace you for my husband and for
myself!"

The courageous woman did not wish to give way while clasping the young
novice in her arms, but her heart overflowed. As to Dick Sand's
feelings, what pen could do them justice? He asked himself if he could
not do more than give his life for his benefactors, and he accepted in
advance all the trials which might come upon him in the future.

After this conversation Dick Sand felt stronger. If the wind should
become so moderate that he should be able to hoist some canvas, he did
not doubt being able to steer his ship to a port where all those which
it carried would at last be in safety.

On the 29th, the wind having moderated a little, Dick Sand thought of
setting the foresail and the top-sail, consequently to increase the
speed of the "Pilgrim" while directing her course.

"Come, Tom; come, my friends!" cried he, when he went on deck at
daybreak; "come, I need your arms!"

"We are ready, Captain Sand," replied old Tom.

"Ready for everything," added Hercules. "There was nothing to do during
that tempest, and I begin to grow rusty."

"You should have blown with your big mouth," said little Jack; "I bet
you would have been as strong as the wind!"

"That is an idea, Jack," replied Dick Sand, laughing. "When there is a
calm we shall make Hercules blow on the sails."

"At your service, Mister Dick!" replied the brave black, inflating his
cheeks like a gigantic Boreas.

"Now, my friends," continued the novice, we are to begin by binding a
spare sail to the yard, because our top-sail was carried away in the
hurricane. It will be difficult, perhaps, but it must be done."

"It shall be done!" replied Acteon.

"Can I help you?" asked little Jack, always ready to work.

"Yes, my Jack," replied the novice. "You will take your place at the
wheel, with our friend Bat, and you will help him to steer."

If little Jack was proud of being assistant helmsman on the "Pilgrim,"
it is superfluous to say so.

"Now to work," continued Dick Sand, "and we must expose ourselves as
little as possible."

The blacks, guided by the novice, went to work at once. To fasten a
top-sail to its yard presented some difficulties for Tom and his
companions. First the rolled up sail must be hoisted, then fastened to
the yard.

However, Dick Sand commanded so well, and was so well obeyed, that
after an hour's work the sail was fastened to its yard, the yard
hoisted, and the top-sail properly set with two reefs.

As to the foresail and the second jib, which had been furled before the
tempest, those sails were set without a great deal of trouble, in spite
of the force of the wind.

At last, on that day, at ten o'clock in the morning, the "Pilgrim" was
sailing under her foresail, her top-sail, and her jib.

Dick Sand had not judged it prudent to set more sail. The canvas which
he carried ought to assure him, as long as the wind did not moderate, a
speed of at least two hundred miles in twenty-four hours, and he did
not need any greater to reach the American coast before ten days.

The novice was indeed satisfied when, returning to the wheel, he again
took his post, after thanking Master Jack, assistant helmsman of the
"Pilgrim." He was no longer at the mercy of the waves. He was making
headway. His joy will be understood by all those who are somewhat
familiar with the things of the sea.

The next day the clouds still ran with the same velocity, but they left
large openings between them, through which the rays of the sun made
their way to the surface of the waters. The "Pilgrim" was at times
overspread with them. A good thing is that vivifying light! Sometimes
it was extinguished behind a large mass of vapors which came up in the
east, then it reappeared, to disappear again, but the weather was
becoming fine again.

The scuttles had been opened to ventilate the interior of the ship. A
salubrious air penetrated the hold, the rear hatchway, the crew's
quarters. They put the wet sails to dry, stretching them out in the
sun. The deck was also cleaned. Dick Sand did not wish his ship to
arrive in port without having made a bit of toilet. Without overworking
the crew, a few hours spent each day at that work would bring it to a
good end.

Though the novice could no longer throw the log, he was so accustomed
to estimating the headway of a ship that he could take a close account
of her speed. He had then no doubt of reaching land before seven days,
and he gave that opinion to Mrs. Weldon, after showing her, on the
chart, the probable position of the ship.

"Well, at what point of the coast shall we arrive, my dear Dick?" she
asked him.

"Here, Mrs. Weldon," replied the novice, indicating that long coast
line which extends from Peru to Chili. "I do not know how to be more
exact. Here is the Isle of Paques, that we have left behind in the
west, and, by the direction of the wind, which has been constant, I
conclude that we shall reach land in the east. Ports are quite numerous
on that coast, but to name the one we shall have in view when we make
the land is impossible at this moment."

"Well, Dick, whichever it may be, that port will be welcome."

"Yes, Mrs. Weldon, and you will certainly find there the means to
return promptly to San Francisco. The Pacific Navigation Company has a
very well organized service on this coast. Its steamers touch at the
principal points of the coast; nothing will be easier than to take
passage for California."

"Then you do not count on bringing the 'Pilgrim' to San Francisco?"
asked Mrs. Weldon.

"Yes, after having put you on shore, Mrs. Weldon. If we can procure an
officer and a crew, we are going to discharge our cargo at Valparaiso,
as Captain Hull would have done. Then we shall return to our own port.
But that would delay you too much, and, though very sorry to be
separated from you—"

"Well, Dick," replied Mrs. Weldon, "we shall see later what must be
done. Tell me, you seem to fear the dangers which the land presents."

"In fact, they are to be feared," replied the novice, "but I am always
hoping to meet some ship in these parts, and I am even very much
surprised at not seeing any. If only one should pass, we would enter
into communication with her; she would give us our exact situation,
which would greatly facilitate our arrival in sight of land."

"Are there not pilots who do service along this coast?" asked Mrs.
Weldon.

"There ought to be," replied Dick Sand, "but much nearer land. We must
then continue to approach it."

"And if we do not meet a pilot?" asked Mrs. Weldon, who kept on
questioning him in order to know how the young novice would prepare for
all contingencies.

"In that case, Mrs. Weldon, either the weather will be clear, the wind
moderate, and I shall endeavor to sail up the coast sufficiently near
to find a refuge, or the wind will be stronger, and then—"

"Then what will you do, Dick?"

"Then, in the present condition of the 'Pilgrim,'" replied Dick Sand,
"once near the land, it will be very difficult to set off again."

"What will you do?" repeated Mrs. Weldon.

"I shall be forced to run my ship aground," replied the novice, whose
brow darkened for a moment. "Ah! it is a hard extremity. God grant that
we may not be reduced to that. But, I repeat it, Mrs. Weldon, the
appearance of the sky is reassuring, and it is impossible for a vessel
or a pilot-boat not to meet us. Then, good hope. We are headed for the
land, we shall see it before long."

Yes, to run a ship aground is a last extremity, to which the most
energetic sailor does not resort without fear! Thus, Dick Sand did not
wish to foresee it, while he had some chances of escaping it.

For several days there were, in the state of the atmosphere,
alternatives which, anew, made the novice very uneasy. The wind kept in
the condition of a stiff breeze all the time, and certain oscillations
of the barometrical column indicated that it tended to freshen. Dick
Sand then asked himself, not without apprehension, if he would be again
forced to scud without sails. He had so much interest in keeping at
least his top-sail, that he resolved to do so so long as it was not
likely to be carried away. But, to secure the solidity of the masts, he
had the shrouds and backstays hauled taut. Above all, all unnecessary
risk must be avoided, as the situation would become one of the gravest,
if the "Pilgrim" should be disabled by losing her masts.

Once or twice, also, the barometer rising gave reason to fear that the
wind might change point for point; that is to say, that it might pass
to the east. It would then be necessary to sail close to the wind!

A new anxiety for Dick Sand. What should he do with a contrary wind?
Tack about? But if he was obliged to come to that, what new delays and
what risks of being thrown into the offing.

Happily those fears were not realized. The wind, after shifting for
several days, blowing sometimes from the north, sometimes from the
south, settled definitely in the west. But it was always a strong
breeze, almost a gale, which strained the masting.

It was the 5th of April. So, then, more than two months had already
elapsed since the "Pilgrim" had left New Zealand. For twenty days a
contrary wind and long calms had retarded her course. Then she was in a
favorable condition to reach land rapidly. Her speed must even have
been very considerable during the tempest. Dick Sand estimated its
average at not less than two hundred miles a day! How, then, had he not
yet made the coast? Did it flee before the "Pilgrim?" It was absolutely
inexplicable.

And, nevertheless, no land was signaled, though one of the blacks kept
watch constantly in the crossbars.

Dick Sand often ascended there himself. There, with a telescope to his
eyes, he sought to discover some appearance of mountains. The Andes
chain is very high. It was there in the zone of the clouds that he must
seek some peak, emerging from the vapors of the horizon.

Several times Tom and his companions were deceived by false indications
of land. They were only vapors of an odd form, which rose in the
background. It happened sometimes that these honest men were obstinate
in their belief; but, after a certain time, they were forced to
acknowledge that they had been dupes of an optical illusion. The
pretended land, moved away, changed form and finished by disappearing
completely.

On the 6th of April there was no longer any doubt possible.

It was eight o'clock in the morning. Dick Sand had just ascended into
the bars. At that moment the fogs were condensed under the first rays
of the sun, and the horizon was pretty clearly defined.

From Dick Sand's lips escaped at last the so long expected cry:

"Land! land before us!"

At that cry every one ran on deck, little Jack, curious as folks are at
that age, Mrs. Weldon, whose trials were going to cease with the
landing, Tom and his companions, who were at last going to set foot
again on the American continent, Cousin Benedict himself, who had great
hope of picking up quite a rich collection of new insects for himself.

Negoro, alone, did not appear.

Each then saw what Dick Sand had seen, some very distinctly, others
with the eyes of faith. But on the part of the novice, so accustomed to
observe sea horizons, there was no error possible, and an hour after,
it must be allowed he was not deceived.

At a distance of about four miles to the east stretched a rather low
coast, or at least what appeared such. It must be commanded behind by
the high chain of the Andes, but the last zone of clouds did not allow
the summits to be perceived.

The "Pilgrim" sailed directly and rapidly to this coast, which grew
larger to the eye.

Two hours after it was only three miles away.

This part of the coast ended in the northeast by a pretty high cape,
which covered a sort of roadstead protected from land winds. On the
contrary, in the southeast, it lengthened out like a thin peninsula.