Mrs. Weldon needed little penetration to recognize the thoughts which were passing in the mind of the resolute youth.
“I see you have come to your decision, Dick,” she said. “The command of the ship is in your hands; no fear but that you will do your duty; and Tom, and the rest of them, no doubt, will render you every assistance in their power.”
“Yes, Mrs. Weldon,” rejoined Dick brightly; “and before long I shall hope to make them good seamen. If only the weather lasts fair, everything will go on well enough; and if the weather turns out bad, we must not despond; we will get safe ashore.”
He paused a moment and added reverently—
“God helping us.”
Mrs. Weldon proceeded to inquire whether he had any means of ascertaining the Pilgrim’s present position. He replied that the ship’s chart would at once settle that. Captain Hull had kept the reckoning accurately right up to the preceding day.
“And what do you propose to do next?” she asked. “Of course you understand that in our present circumstances we are not in the least bound to go to Valparaiso if there is a nearer port which we could reach.”
“Certainly not,” replied Dick; “and therefore it is my intention to sail due east, as by following that course we are sure to come upon some part of the American coast.”
“Do your best, Dick, to let us get ashore somewhere.”
“Never fear, madam,” he answered; “as we get nearer land we shall be almost sure to fall in with a cruiser which will put us into the right track. If the wind does but remain in the northwest, and allow us to carry plenty of sail, we shall get on famously.”
He spoke with the cheery confidence of a good sailor who knows the good ship beneath his feet. He had moved off a few steps to go and take the helm, when Mrs. Weldon, calling him back, reminded him that he had not yet ascertained the true position of the schooner. Dick confessed that it ought to be done at once, and going to the captain’s cabin brought out the chart upon which the ill-fated commander had marked the bearings the evening before. According to this dead-reckoning they were in lat. 43° 35′, S., and long. 164° 13′, W.; and as the schooner had made next to no progress during the last twenty-four eventful hours, the entry might fairly be accepted as representing approximately their present position.
To the lady’s inexperienced eye, as she bent over the outspread chart, it seemed that the land, as represented by the brown patch which depicted the continent of South America extending like a barrier between two oceans from Cape Horn to Colombia, was, after all, not so very far distant; the wide space of the Pacific was not so broad but that it would be quickly traversed.
“Oh, we shall soon be on shore!” she said.
But Dick knew better. He had acquaintance enough with the scale upon which the chart was constructed to be aware that the Pilgrim herself would have been a speck like a microscopic infusoria on the vast surface of that sea, and that hundreds and hundreds of weary miles separated her from the coast.
No time was to be lost. Contrary winds had ceased to blow; a fresh northwesterly breeze had sprung up, and the cirri, or curl-clouds overhead indicated that for some time at least the direction of the wind would be unchanged.
Dick appealed to the negroes, and tried to make them appreciate the difficulty of the task that had fallen to his lot. Tom answered, in behalf of himself and all the rest, that they were not only willing, but anxious, to do all they could to assist him, saying that if their knowledge was small, yet their arms were strong, and added that they should certainly be obedient to every order he gave.
“My friends,” said Dick, addressing them in reply; “I shall make it a point of myself taking the helm as much as possible. But you know I must have my proper rest sometimes. No one can live without sleep. Now, Tom, I intend you to stand by me for the remainder of the day. I will try and make you understand how to steer by the aid of the compass. It is not difficult. You will soon learn. I shall have to leave you when I go to my hammock for an hour or two.”
“Is there nothing,” said little Jack, “that I can learn to do?”
“Oh yes, Jack; you shall keep the wind in order,” answered Dick, smiling.
“That I will!” cried the child, clapping his hands, while the mother drew him to her side.
“And now, my men,” was Dick’s first order to his crew, “we must brace in the yards to sail fair. I will show you how.”
“All right, Captain Sands; we are at your service,” said old Tom gravely.
X
The New Crew
Dick Sands, captain of the Pilgrim, would not lose a moment in getting his ship under sail. His prime object was to land
