Philosopher Jack Part 10

"What! a Scotch s.h.i.+p?"

"Yes; part owned and commanded by Captain Samson."

"_I_ know him; met him once in Glasgow. A big, rough-bearded, hearty fellow--six foot two or thereabouts. Didn't go down with his s.h.i.+p, did he?" asked the captain with a look of anxiety.

"No," replied Watty with increasing interest in the American; "we escaped on a raft to an island, off which I was blown, while alone in my boat only two days ago."

"Only two days ago, boy!" echoed the captain, starting up; "d'you happen to know the direction of that island?"

Watty did not know, of course, having had no compa.s.s in his boat; but he fortunately remembered what Captain Samson had said when he had ascertained the lat.i.tude and longitude of it.

"Mr Barnes," shouted the captain to the first mate, who stood on deck near the open skylight, "how's her head?"

"Sou'-sou'-west, sir."

"Put her about and lay your course west and by north. Now," said the captain, turning again to Watty, with a look of satisfaction, "we'll soon rescue Captain Samson and his crew. I'm sorry I won't be able to take you all back to England, because we are bound for San Francisco, but a trip to California is preferable to life on a coral island. Now, boy, I've talked enough to you. The steward will bring you some dinner.

If you feel disposed, you may get up after that. Here are dry clothes for you. We ripped up your own to save time after hauling you out of the sea."

It was not usual for the gentle Polly Samson to alarm the camp with a shriek that would have done credit to a mad c.o.c.katoo, nevertheless, she did commit this outrage on the feelings of her companions on the afternoon of the day on which Watty was run down and rescued.

Her father and all the others were seated around the camp fire among the bushes at the time. Polly had left them, intending to pay a visit to one of her beautiful water-gardens on the beach, and had just emerged from the bushes and cast her eyes upon the sea, when she beheld the sight that drew from her the shriek referred to. She gave it forth in an ascending scale.

"Oh! Oh!! Oh!!! father! come here! quick! quick! oh!"

Never since he was a boy had the captain jumped so sharply from a sitting posture to his legs. Every man followed suit like a Jack-in-the-box. There was a rush as if of a tempest through the bushes, and next moment the whole party burst upon the scene, to find Polly--not as they had feared in some deadly peril, but--with flas.h.i.+ng eyes and glowing cheeks waving her arms like a windmill, and shrieking with joy at a s.h.i.+p which was making straight for the island under full sail.

The captain greeted the sight with a ba.s.s roar, Philosopher Jack with a stentorian shout. Ben Trench did his best to follow Jack's example.

Simon O'Rook uttered an Irish howl, threw his cap into the air, and forthwith began an impromptu hornpipe, in which he was joined by Bob Corkey. Baldwin Burr and his comrades vented their feelings in prolonged British cheers, and Mr Luke, uttering a squeak like a wounded rabbit, went about wanting to embrace everybody, but n.o.body would let him. In short every one went more or less mad with joy at this sudden realisation of "hope long deferred." Only then did they become fully aware of the depth of anxiety which had oppressed them at the thought of being left, perhaps for years, it might be to the end of their days, on that unknown island.

As the vessel approached, it became apparent that there was some one on board whose temporary insanity was as demonstrative as their own, so wild were his gesticulations.

"It's too fur off," said Baldwin, "to make out the crittur's phisog; but if it warn't for his size, I'd say he was a monkey."

"P'r'aps it's an ourang-outang," suggested Corkey.

"Or a gorilla," said O'Rook.

"Oh!" exclaimed Polly, in a low, eager voice of surprise, "I do believe it is Watty Wilkins!"

"Polly is right," said Philosopher Jack; "I'd know Watty's action among a thousand."

As he spoke, the vessel rounded-to outside the reef, backed her top-sails, and lowered a boat. At the same time the excited figure disappeared from her bow, and reappeared, wilder than ever, in the stern of the boat. As it crossed the lagoon, the voice of Watty became audible, and was responded to by a succession of hearty cheers, in the midst of which the boat was run ash.o.r.e. The excited lad sprang on the beach, and was almost annihilated by the species of miscellaneous embracing that he immediately underwent.

Need we say that Captain Samson and his men were only too thankful to have such an opportunity of deliverance? They at once accepted the offer of the American captain, embarked in his s.h.i.+p the following morning, pa.s.sed Cape Horn not long after, sailed up the coast of South America, and, in course of time, cast anchor in the renowned harbour of San Francisco.

At the time of which we write, the excitement about the gold-fields of California was at its highest pitch. Men were flocking to that region from all parts of the earth. Fortunes were being made by some in a few months, and lost by others, at the gaming-tables, in a few days, or even hours. While a few gained a competence, many gained only a bare subsistence; thousands lost their health, and not a few their lives. It was a strange play that men enacted there, embracing all the confusion, glitter, rapid change of scene, burlesque, and comedy of a pantomime, with many a dash of darkest tragedy intermingled. Tents were pitched in all directions, houses were hastily run up, restaurants of all kinds were opened, boats were turned keel up and converted into cottages, while s.h.i.+ps were stranded or lying idle at their anchors for want of crews, who had made off to that mighty centre of attraction, the diggings.

Arrived at San Francisco, Captain Samson and his crew were landed one fine morning at an early hour, and went up to a modest-looking hotel, without any definite idea as to what was best to be done in their peculiar circ.u.mstances. Feeling a strange sensation of helplessness in the midst of so much turmoil and human energy, after their quiet sojourn on the Coral Island, they kept together like a flock of sheep, and wandered about the town. Then they returned to their hotel and had luncheon, for which so large a sum was demanded, that they resolved to return on board at once, and ask the American captain's advice.

They found their deliverer pacing his quarterdeck, with his hands in his pockets, and a stern frown on his countenance. He was quite alone, and the vessel wore an unusually quiet air.

"Nothing wrong, I hope," said Captain Samson, as he stepped over the gangway.

"Everything wrong," replied the American; "crew skedaddled."

"What! bolted?"

"Ay, every man, to the diggin's."

"What will you do?" asked Captain Samson, in a sympathetic tone.

"Sell off the s.h.i.+p and cargo for what they'll fetch, and go to the diggin's too," replied the other. "Moreover, I'd strongly recommend you to do the same."

"What say you to that advice, Philosopher Jack?" asked Captain Samson, turning to our hero, with a peculiar smile.

"I say," answered the philosopher, returning the smile, "that the advice requires consideration."

"Cautiously replied; and what says my Polly?" continued the captain.

"I say whatever you say, father."

"Ah! Poll, Poll, that sort of answer don't help one much. However, we'll call a council of war, and discuss the matter seriously; but, first of all, let's see how the wind blows. How do _you_ feel inclined, Ben Trench? Bein' the invalid of our party, so to speak, you're ent.i.tled, I think, to speak first."

"I say, Go," replied Ben.

"And I say ditto," burst from Watty Wilkins with powerful emphasis.

"You wasn't axed yet," observed Bob Corkey. "Besides, stowaways have no right to speak at all."

"What says Mr Luke!" continued the captain.

"Don't go," answered Mr Luke feebly.

"Now, lads," said the captain, after putting the question to the others, "we'll go in for the pros and cons."

They went in for the pros and cons accordingly, and after an animated debate, resolved that the path of duty, as well as that of interest and propriety, lay in the direction of the diggings.

Having settled the matter, and gathered together into a common fund the small amount of cash and property which each had saved from the wreck, they went ash.o.r.e, purchased the articles necessary for their expedition, and followed the great stream of Californian gold-diggers.

We shall join them, but let not the reader suppose that we intend to bore him or her with the statistics and details of Californian gold-digging. It is our purpose only to touch lightly on those salient points in the adventures of our wanderers which had a more or less direct bearing on the great issues of their lives.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

FAILURE.

There are times, probably, in the life of all when everything seems to go against one,--when plans and efforts turn out ill, or go wrong, and prospects look utterly black and hopeless. Such a time fell upon Philosopher Jack and his friends some months after their arrival at the gold-diggings.