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THE DEADLY CREEK.

• (From " Chambers'* Journal.") There is no more pleasant moment in a seaman's life than when he finds himself for the first time the master of a ship. It is a nervous moment too, and puts a man considerably on his mettle: he feels as if he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders, and is absurdly anxious lest anything should go wrong. Those were my^f^elings, at all events, as I found myself, leaving the white cliffs of old England behind me, and the Channel , pilot making for shore in the cutter that had taken him off. In the first place, I must give you Borne account of my craft. She was a new t iron screw, called the Orient, long and Tow, with two funnels. She was built for the Black Sea trade, and was meant t6 take in corn in the Danube ports, «nd bring home her cargo without breaking bulk ; and as you could not-then reckon on over two fathoms waiter, over the Siilina bar, she was built, accordingly. It was my first command, as I've told you ; and I was a young man, not more than twentyfive, although I had been some fifteen years a sailor. After my craft, I come to toy passengers. I had only one, as it happened, but I thought as much of that one as if she had been a hundred, for she was my wife, and I bad only been married three months. Jane was used to ships, being tie daughter of a sea-captain ; she'd take a turn at the wheel with any able seaman. In fact, I used to think she knew rather ioo much. ""Why don't you do this, James,? " she'd say ; " why don't you let a reef out of this sail ? "—always for letting out reefs, mind you, and carrying on, female-like — till I'd have to telt'her to mind her own business, and bear in mind that I was the master. ThY reason that I took , her on this voyage was, that I expected to be abroad for two or three years, as I went! away with a sort of roving commission to trade in the Levant and Black Sea ports, or wherever I could pick %p a freight. We had a very good run to Constantinople, where I discharged my cargo., and established . my wife in lodgings at . Pera — that is, with an Armenian family who spoke English like native, having lived at J Manchester for many years. Here I watf- lucky enough to be taken up* by the Sublime , Porte as a transport with . short voyages, and a long while lying idle in the Golden Xorh. That suited me very well, for I had 'plenty of time to spend with Jane; This lasted off and on for a couple of years, and I tooit a cargo here and-, there, doing pretty well for nay owners, and not badly for myself. Altogether, I had been away for three years or more, when I found that the Orient must have a complete overhauling. Her hull was foul, so that sha.lost at least a knot an hour of her speed, arid her machinery wanted renovating. All things considered, my owners thought I had better bring her home as soon as I could get a freight for London. Just then,, our agent chartered me for Trejbizondwith a miscellaneous cargo ; and after discharging, I was to run across to Galatz, to load with •wheat for the English market. After tha£, I' should pick up my wife at Stamboul, and then run home. Twp months would see me back in the ..-Golden, Horn, I told Jane, as I parted with her jl remember very well the place, oh a" hill .that looked over Peraand G|latz, and the glittering Horn crowded with shipping, and the darkblue Bo&pliorous. There was an old buriaT-grourid close by, and Jane, who was very nervous and out of sorts just thehj burst into tears, and said we should ..never meet again. I soothed herras well as I could, and told her it was all nonsense, and that we should spend our" Christmas at home with her own^father and mother, it being then the middle of September ; but I own tha|; I felt a sort of melancholy presentiment hanging about me, as though there -was some misfortune hanging over'us. There's no doubt j&at the Black Sea haslgot a worse name than -it deserves, for there are no rocks and shoals to trouble you, and if you haven't much sea-room, at least you've good holding ground, and with steam to help you, there's no reason why you should get ashore. - But for all- that, I don't like ih. Perhaps it's the contrast from the sunny Mediterranean and the purple Bosphorous, but it certainly strikes me as dark, and cold, and cheerless. It doesn't rise under one like true salt water, either. " ' -We ; left the castles of Europe and Asia behind us, and had a prosperous tiipito Trebizond. I was a long while lying- there, before I could discharge my cargo, ' for want of proper facilities, but I, got clear at last, and made full steam across the Black Sea, towards the Sulina xn6ush of the Danube. I was glad to get < clear of Trebizond, because there was a' good deal of sickness there. From having been so long trading about^'T had picked up a rather miscellaneous sort of ciew. I had an English mate and chief engineer , all the rest ■were ■foreigners, of 'what nationality: Ihardly - know-- They were not much goo#,,as ydu,may suppose. One of my hanclfs deserted at Trebizond, and I suppJied,;i<his place, with. an Italian named Giuseppe, a miserable-looking fellow, but the • best I cou^d get. I had no great .'confidence ininy mate either, who waa^yery worthy man, but not .much of %s9aman, a very peppery fellow into* the bargain.. He was always falling^tfut with the men, and causing trouble oh '"'board. "The 'weather was coarse and jgually, with thick driving mis^ffdXgoTTifctre jrisf after we' left Trebiapndi >' J knew' I was getting somei wheivtiiar th'eopposite coasT;, but couldn't mskih^t, landmarks, on

account of the o6nstant*fog, The water shoals, there very regularly, and I felt sure that as long as I kept the lead at work, I needn't fear running ashore ; but at last I found it necessary to drop anchor, and wait for a sight of ray bearings. The wind was blowing pretty strong right on shore, and we steamed gently ahead, to ease the strain on our cable. We pitched and rolled^ very heavily, the swell being strong, and our ship very light. The wind rose as the sun went down — invisibly to vs — and altogether I didn't feel quite easy as to our position. Those Black Sea gales are sharp enough whilst they last — 1 have had some experience of them, having been the mate of a ship that was lying off Balaclava that night when the Prince, a fine steamer laden with all kinds of winter stores for the troops, was blown right upon the cliffs, with several other vessels, and knocked all to pieces. I had turned in for a short nap, having given oiders to be called if anything went wrong, I slept heavily, having been up for several nights. The howling of the wind ; the rattle of the screw, sometimes working slowly round and round, and then whirling with great rapidity, as the heavy ground swell lifted it out of the watea ; the occasional snort of the waste-pipes ; the general swing and creak and clatter of every timber, spar, rope, and block from stem to stern;— all these sounds mingled with my confused dreams of other and happier scenes. I was aroused froni my slumbers by the engineer. He was very sorry to disturb me, he said, but he couldn't answer for his engines any longer. His screw-shaft was weak, and had already in it a dangerous flaw. " And," he said, " I expect every minute that thing will snap ; so, if you can't ease the ship, we'd best disconnect the screw." : I didn't like the thought of trusting altogether to my holding-tackle, for I felt that the gale was increasing, and was doubtful if anything would hold against such a wind and sea ; but it would be still worse- to be left helpless to the chapter of accidents, as would be the case if the crew were rendered useless. So I bade the engineer disconnect the screw, but to keep up a full head of steam, ready to stand out to sea if our tackle gave way. But as 1 left my cabin to take a turn or two upon deck, I saw that the fog was breaking rapidly, so that the sky to windward was quite clear, and the stars shining brightly, whilst a great wall of mist was marching away from us, rolled up before the wind just like a carpet. In a few minutes I saw lights twinkling on the coast here and there, and before long I was able to make out exactly where we were. I had run my course to a hairbreadth almost. Those were the lights of Sulina, and that break in the long low coast-line was the mouth of the Danube. It was rather a risky business running into a strange river at dead of night without a pilot, with such a wind as now was blowing ; but I felt that the risk was greater in remaining at my anchorage. I didn't wait to weigh anchor, which might have been a difficult business, but buoyed and | slipt my cable, and with a foretopsail and bit of foresail set, made straight for the bar. I had no fear of sticking, our vessel being light, and the easterly winds having piled the water up, so that there was a greater depth thaii usual upon *he bar ; but I did dread that the Orient would become tinmanageable, and drift hopelessly on the shore. However, it was all over in a few minutes. By good luck we got smartly over'jthe bar ; we found ourselves in water comparatively still, meeting the strong river current, that formed great eddies with the waters of the sea, making steerage difficult in the channel. Tt's just at moments like these when the safety of a ship may depend on the smart handling of a sail, that you feel the difference between ah English crew and the mongrel set yon pick up at eastern ports. , I believe we should have made a wreck of it, after all, just because I couldn't get my foretopsail furled quickly enough, when the wind took the matter in its own hands,, and blew it clean out of the bolt-ropes, and rent it to tatters, that went sailing away, looking against the dark purple sky, like so many seabirds. My mate went out of his senses almost at this, and chased the crew down into the forecastle; we were well into the channel of the river, and the engineer., and I could manage the* ship between us. . I had some notion that there was a quarantine establishment at Sulina, and .that I ought to have obtained pratique there ; but I had a clean bill of health, and it was their business to stop me if they wanted to do so. At any rate, j thought that a few, hundred piastres would set' the matter right. So I steamed slowly up the river towards Galatz, congratulating myself on having done the business so neatly. Then I began to wonder what my mate was doing down below so long } and I sent my lad forward to see. Presently, the lad and he returned together, and as- he came within the light of the binnacle lamp, I saw that he looked deadly pale. : " What's the matter, Sims ?" I said. " Have those rascals been mutinous? " " Come below, captain," he whispered ; " I've got something to tell you." "What is it, man? Speak, out," I cried j cc l can't leave the deck." -: " It's the Itafian fellow, who was skulking, as we thought." "Well, what.of him?" » He's very bad, dying almost : and its cholera cap'n : I've seen it before. ' Ho' brought it on board from Trebizond." The first thing I; thought of !was my voyage, my ship, and iby owners, >( ' The,

illness of this Italian, sailor might be the ruin of my prospects, Of course, as soon as it was known that we had sickness on board, we should be kept in quarantine till the man recovered or died, and probably for months and months afterwards. I couldn't bear the thought of it, lying idle in this wretchec river, not earning a penny, with the ship expenses running on, and machinery and stores deteriorating as last as possible, I* was now October. In a couple of months, if the winter were at all severe, we should be frozen up in the river. So that, in fact, it might be March or April of the following year before we could get away. And what, I asked myself, would become of Jane meanwhile? That thought struck ma the keenest of all. She expecting her trquble to come on in February, and all alone in a strange foreign place : I couldn't bear the thought. I was not long in making up my mind. I would run out of the river in the morning, at the first appearance of daylight, and make my way home in ballast, touching at Constantinople, to pick up Jane and my belongings at. Pera. Perhaps the man might recover on the open sea. I ordered the anchor to be dropped, the spare one, and brought to in the middle of the stream, waiting anxiously for the morning light. - As soon as the ship was made snug, I went down below with Sims, to see the sick man. All his shipmates had shrunk away from him, and he was lying in a bunk in the forecastle — you could see the gleam of his white dying face, that seemed almost phosphorescent in the darkness. I went up to him and felt his pulse. It fluttered feebly as I held his wrist 5 presently it stopped altogether, and I felt a slight shudder pass through his frame. " What do you think of him, sir 1 " asked Sims. " He'll be better for more air, I said looking round at the narrow, close forecastle, with its dirty bunks and bundles of frowsy clothing. " We'll put him in the jdeck-house, Sims, and that will give him a better chance." We called the engineer, and between us we carried the man upon deck, and placed him in the deck-house on a mattress. " He's verra still, sir," said the engineer, looking at him compassionately. I turned the key in the door, and called Sims and the engineeraft. " The man's dead," I said. • - " Poor fellow," said the Scot. "Ay, I thought he was ower quiet to be alive." " What did he want to come on board at all for," grumbled Sims, "if he meant to die like this ? " Then I told them whab would be the consequence of having this death on Hoard ; how we should be laid up in quarantine, and be kept prisoners for months and months. What was Itodo 1 To hoist the yellow and blacky flag, and give out that we were infected on board the Orient ? Perhaps, to you sitting in your easy .chair, comfortably reading this yarn by your own fireside, it may seem that this was just what I ougLt to hfcve done. But L couldn't see it in that way myself.' I was a seaman, and not a philosopher. I wanted to do my best by my ship and by my wife, Jane, and 1 didn't care a button for their quarantine and rubbish, that I couldn'tsee the good of, but a great deal of harm instead — hindering the course of trade, and stopping people from making what they might do out of their craft. So I said to Sims and the enginaer : " This is what we'll do, if you'll stand by me. We'll put this body overboard ; this man isn't on the ship's manifest j nobody will know anything about it ; and we'll take our cargo at Galatz, and spend our Christmas at home after all." ' They agreed that they'd help me in the business ; and we got a hammock, and put the body into it, lashing it round and round securely ; thfcn slinging a couple of heavy shots to it, we put overboard quietly — feeling like murderers all the time. But when it was done, I felt wonderfully relieved in my mind. As for' its being the cholera the man died of, T wouldn't believe a word of it. No ; the man had been drinking heavily on shore, and had died from the effects of his own folly. He wasn't a bit to be pitied ; and it would have been monstrous if the whole ship's crew had been made to suffer for him. As the thing was to happen, it had happened very luckily. As soon as it was daylight, we made upthe river to^Galat^TrMch is-apleasant town, upon a steep hill, overlooking the river. Before' we reached the port, however, we were, boarded by a health officer — a Greek in a fez cap and shabby frock-coat, with a gilt sash round his waist. He made a great fuss because we hadn't got pratique atSulina; but as we had a clean bill of health, and there was no sickness on board, he did not seem inclined to be hard with. us. A little confidential talk in the cabin, and I didn't doubt but that all difficulties would vanish. Still, there were a few formal questions to answer j and as I was always a conscientious man, and hated lying from the bottom of my soul, I called for Sims to answer them. His cabin was on deck, opposite to the house were the man had died ; and as he didn't answer me, I opened the door to see if he were within, the Greek being just behind me. , He was lying there, with just the same pallid death-like face as the poor Italian— his eyes staring wide, his forehead covered .with beads of perspiration, breathing slowly and painfully. I\ staggered back horror-struck. The Greek ran hastily across the deck, and . descended into the boat, winch pushed away from our side, and rowed rapidly^ ashore; * Meantime we were fqrging slowly ahead, till we were,

nearly opposite the town, when a gun from a battery that commanded the river warned us to. stop. Then I made upmy mind that I would carry out my first intention — drop down the river, and put out to sea, but as we drifted slowly downwards, another gun jrom the opposite side roared out at us., I did not take any notice ; but seeing this, the battery fired a shot at us, which went over our heads, and brought down some of our running rigging. As I saw that they would sink us at the next' shot, I gave in at this, and dropt anchor. Presently the Greek came out again with orders to me to follow his boat into a branch of the river, which forks into_two or three channels below Galatz .and this I w*s obliged to do. This seemed to. be a sort of back-water, that wound in and out among islands, and banks of reeds and bulrushes, a swampy dosolate country, that made one wretched to look at. And here, in a creek that opened out of the main channel, I was forced to lay up . my ship. That night Sims died, and the engineer and two of the crew were seized with the pestilence. I was up all night, doing the best I could for them ; when morning broke I found that the rest of the crew had deserted ; they knew the country, it seemed; and I didn't blame them, . for leaving this pest ship. I never shall forget the horrors of that' dismal creek. There was just the cabin boy to help me to look after these sick men, and he was frightened out of his life, and could hardly crawl about. The two foreigners soon succumbed to the i disease, but the engineer made a stout fight for his. life. I • think he might, have recovered under more favourable circumstances ; but the miasma of the dreadful creek seemed to lower all the vital powers, and gave the poor fellow no chance of recovery. At last, quite sensible and composed, after giving me his final advice as to the care of the engines during the ensuing winter, and sending a few fond messages to his wife and bairns, in case I should have the good-fortune to reach home, he expired. During this time I had made several attempts'to communicate with the town and obtain medical assistance and comforts for the sick. But all in vain. Soldiers were posted, on the narrow peninsula that formed the only connection with the mainland, and a chain had been drawn across the channel by which we had entered, to prevent our communicating with the town by water. If I attempted to approach the sentries, they menaced me with their firelocks, and on my disregarding their warnings, they blazed away at me recklessly. Thus thrown entirely upon my own resources, I was forced to dispose of the bodies of my late comrades by throwing them overboard into the river. The current washed them slowly away from me; but for long afterwards I could see the vultures hovering about the windings of the stream, and quarrelling for places on their floating banquets. All this time. I seemed to live a charmed life.* I wasn't afraid of the cholera, although I expected to share the fate of my shipmates. Indeed, I was rather anxious to have an end made of it all. What I feared most was that I should be left alone ; and as I saw my companions drop off one by one, 1 felt that it was hard" that I should be left with no one to moisten my lips in my last agony, or to close my eyes when I was dead. The cabin-boy was the only soul now left me, and he, I could see, was rapidly pining away. He didn't take the cholera, but a kind of low fever and ague came upon him, and be lost strength day by day, so that at last I could hardly get him out of his bunk. "Winter came on very early that year along the Black Sea coast. Our creek was frozen up with thick ice, and the marshes about became passable. Snow felj, too, and everything assumed a white, wan aspect: * I did what I could to preserve the Bhip against the weather. I battened down the fore-hatch and engine hatch, after giving all .'the delicate parts of the engine a plenteous coating of oil. I rigged up a stove in my cabin with an iron pipe through the poop deck, and with a kettle of pitch I calked as well as I could the seams of the plants above me. But I did all these things in a half-hearted mechanical way, not thinking that tne'y could do- any good to me or anybody else. Great flocks of birds now made their -appearance — teal, pigeon, and wild-duck, and it occurred to me one day that I would take one of the ship's muskets and try to shoot some. Per. haps, if I could get some fresh meat for the boy, and make him some strong appetising soup, he might take a turn, and gain his strength again. The exercise and the excitement of the sport rouaeolme a little, and got me out of myself and my own morbid thoughts. I managed to bag a couple of snipe, and three or four wild ducks, and made my way back to the ship, feeling quite proud of my success. I had told the lad to keep up a good fire jn the stove, thinking that I might- have, some luck; and, that if so, we would have a bit of a feast when I returned. Ap I approached the ship, however, I perceived that no' smoke was ascending from the stove-pipe, and I shuddered as I saw how cold and deserted she looked, lying there in a field of jagged ice, her wheel and binnacle shrouded in canvas, and covered with a thick coating of snow — her yards, all white aM 1 rimy ; , her funnels rusty and discolored ; her boats like snowy mounds '; whilst icicles hung from her prow, and all down ber_weather-stained sides. I, the only living, figure in this desolate waste, looking rather like a wild man, than the smart brisk officer' , of a few months' ago.

I was quickly up by the ship's side, and ran to the steward's cabin, where the boy was lying, intending to rate him soundly for not looking after the fire. He seemed asleep, and I shook Mm, but I found that he was quite insensible, and. in a few moments I saw by the' quivering of his under lips that life was departing from him. He died as quietly as an infant going to sleep. Somehow, I grieved more for that lad than for any of the others, and his death seemed to take away all the little energy that had been left in me. I had no longer any heart for anything — not even to relight the. black cindery, 'fire in the cabin. I read the burial service over the lad, and carried him to a great bed of tall reeds about quarter of a mile from the ship, where I covered him up as well as I could with the dried fragments of the reeds, and left him, When I got back, I filled myself a pitcher of water, and took half-a-dozen biscuits, which I' placed by the side of my berth, and then I covered myself with all, the blankets and rugs I had, and tried to sleep. Here was I alone in a frozen -up ship, in an inhospitable part of the world, with no one to help for the sake of humanity. I thought bitterly of poor Jane, and how she would be watching and waiting and wearying herself away with trouble and disappointment. She would be getting short of money too, and that adds a pang to the worst of troubles. Why did I take her away* from her comfortable home to expose her to all this 1 A few years of mingled happiness and trouble, and then a long blank life before her— to go back and share her father's narrow means ; a burden and a trouble ; her whole life a failure. It was , a bad look-out all round, and I was too sick at heart to have any hope of life. - . ' In the dead of the night I awoke in dreadful pain ; the cholera had visited me at last. My brain was all in a turmoil with horrible visions and fancies. I could no longer distinguish what was, real from the pictures of ray disordered mind. For a day and a night I lay alternately in pain and in stupor — perhaps longer — for I lost count of time. At last the pains and troubles in my head and body began to abate. I recovered the full use of ray senses for a time, but only to feel more poignantly the misery and hopelessness of my situation. I was weak and helpless as an infant. I had emptied the jug of water; the^ dry flinty biscuits I was incapable of swallowing. I felt that with nourishment and stimulants I might have a chance for life; but that, solitary and abandoned by every human creature, it was only left for me to die. I sank into a state of languid torpor, just conscious that I was still alive, and that the numbness and deadness that were stealing over me were the precursors of the last moments. I awoke after a troubled dream.' Still the wretched cabin in the forsaken ship. I was alone and dying. It was daylight, and a chill comfortless light flickered through the doorway and the crevices of the dead-lights. And yet I felt a warmth and comfort about me to which I had hitherto been a stranger. . T must .still be dreaming, for it seemed to me that I heard the" roar of a fire in the stove in the next cabin, and, most assuredly, my organs of scent were sharing in the general' illusion, for there was a very savoury and delightful smell. l My throat was Tjarched with thirst,- and I mechanically stretched out my hand for the empty jug — and this time I could have no deception — within my grasp was a tumbler of drink, barley-water, or some such delightful beverage, with a slice of lemon in it ; and then actually I saw a figure in tbe doorway — a young man ; a Greek physician, no doubt, for he held in his hand . a medicine bottle and glass. Tbe latter made a motion enjoining silence, -filled the glassj and gave me to drink. I took tbe draught confidingly ; it diffased a dilicious sense of happiness about me,. .and I fell into a deep aud '.refreshing slumber. It was night, and. a lamp burning beside me. I felt wonderfully renovated and refreshed ; Ifelt that I was saved, I longed to thank" my preserver, to ask him to what happy chance I owed his presence. I coughed gently ; my unwearied attendant was at the door in a moment. " JSffendi, " I began in a weak piping voice, that I hardly knew how to modulate ; I was no great linguist, and I didn't know in what language to address him : "Je suis extriment — I am heartily thankful to you* old fellow." To my astonishment, and somewhat to my alarm, the young doctor knelt down at my bedeide, and taking my face in his hands; gave me a long and fervent kiss. "My dear old man " — between laughing and crying— "l ; never thought to hear your voice again. But talkJEnglish, Jamie, I shall understand you better ai that." "Why, what!" said I,' holding: my visitor at arm's length ; " you're Jane, my own dear old Jane ;" Yes, it was Jane, who had found me out, and come to me jnst in time to save me from death. As soon as I was a little stronger, she told me the whole history of how she managed it. It seemed that these Armenians she lodged with were well known to a Greek lady who married one of the pachas, and who used often to come up to Pera to Bee her old friends. She took a fancy for my Jane, and was very fond of. talking of London and England. Well she found out that ■ Jane was in trouble, not knowing what had become of' me, and my ship — a .long time overdue ;, and she took compassion on her, and caused her husband to make inquiries; And, he had the.; seamen that could be got hold of brought to his divan, and in-

terrogated ; but they knew nothing of the Orient. Till at last f one old salt came forward and said he had heard of such a craft lying in quarantine up the Danube— that he bad heard that all her crew were dead with the plague. Well, with that, nothing would do but Jane would start off to look for me. And" here the pacha's wife was her friend again, and sent her with a government escort overland, to look for me ; only, to avoid "delay and scandal, she made Jane travel ' in the dress of a Greek physican. That she found me out, you know, but I have no time to tell you of her adventures in the search ,

By the Sultan's orders we were provided with a house in the outskirts of the town of Galatz, where I was removed as soon as I was strong enough to bear it, and, through the influence of the friendly pasha's wife, we were furnished with every comfort and luxury the place could afford. There my eldest little boy was born ; and by the time that Jane had recovered, I had got together a crew and we sailed away from that Deadly Creek, which even now, after many years, j look .back on with something like horror.

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Bibliographic details

Tuapeka Times, Volume VII, Issue 420, 26 December 1874, Page 5

Word Count
5,427

THE DEADLY CREEK. Tuapeka Times, Volume VII, Issue 420, 26 December 1874, Page 5

THE DEADLY CREEK. Tuapeka Times, Volume VII, Issue 420, 26 December 1874, Page 5

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