(原版)澳大利亚语文第六册 LESSON 22
LESSON 22 ALL HANDS TO THE PUMPS
ALL HANDS TO THE PUMPS
II
The unwelcome passenger kept out of sight for the rest of that afternoon. Hungry and cold, he crouched in his cheerless shelter, too thankful at heart to think of anything but the end of his journey.
The skipper had had it in mind to send him food; but the look of the sky when he came on deck soon banished [1] the stranger from his thoughts. "We are in for it!" he muttered; "and I'll wager'tis the hardest tussle we have had!"
As the ship pushed forward to the open sea, every man on board—even the poor stowaway—felt the truth of John Middlemas's words. The sullen breakers, rolling in from the ocean, met the ship with an angry snarl, and shook her as a dog might shake a rat; then raced ahead to over-take some other struggling craft.
Yet the storm delayed, and the sky remained clear, though the wind cut like whipcords, and whistled through the rigging. But it blew from the south-east, and thus rather helped than hindered them to clear the Firth and make northwards.
MAKING BRAVE HEADWAY
The skipper's one care now was to steer a clear course from the shore, and to this end he kept his bow well out to sea. So that night passed, and daylight found them still making brave headway.
But at noon the sky darkened. The sea turned to an inky hue, and soon the full fury of a North Sea blizzard [2] rushed upon them.
The waves lashed, the snowflakes wheeled madly, half blinding the eyes of the man at the lookout. But they could not bewilder the brain of John Middlemas. Sharp and clear his commands rang out: "Port!"—"Hard-a-port!" And the answering "Ay, ay, sir!" came faint yet cheery through the storm.
Every hour the wind increased in strength, till the gale became a tempest, and the tempest a hurricane; and, when the next twilight fell, the good ship Merry Andrew was in a sorry state. With her sails rent, her "Union Jack" in shreds, she staggered helpless before the wind; while tons of water poured over her sides, and soaked her goodly cargo to a pulp.
Skipper John Middlemas thought ruefully [3] of this loss for a moment; but soon the thought of a yet greater loss pressed in upon him. For now the ship's hold was filling, and the Merry Andrew was settling sadly downwards in the waves.
Sharply the deck echoed his new command—"All hands to the pumps!" and now cook and apprentice, able-bodied seaman and mate [4] , alike toiled wearily to drive out the water as it welled up in the hold. Hour after hour they took it by turns to work the heavy pumps; and still the sea made headway, and the strength of the crew was almost spent.
One fresh hand might have saved us! muttered the skipper; when, all at once, through the gloom his sharp glance made out a new figure at the pumps. It was that of the unwelcome passenger. Famished and drenched, he had come to himself out of a kind of swoon, and stolen like a ghost upstairs; and, weak though he was, he yet worked with the strength of two. Had he not ever before him a vision of his dying child at Peterhead!
Again Skipper Middlemas was right in his reckoning. With one fresh hand he was able to save his ship. By the next tide the sea had fallen to a slow swell; and, crippled but not a wreck, the Merry Andrew picked her way in due course into the harbour of Peterhead.
There the skipper bade goodbye to his unwelcome passenger, wringing his hand, and pressing a bright gold guinea in his palm. "Tut, man!'Tis for the bairn," he muttered again. "Pray, heaven she be alive to need it!"
And the little one was not dead when her father hastened to her from the storm. At the very moment when, faint and trembling, he had taken his place at the ship's pumps, his child had passed the crisis of her fever and turned back to life again.
The whole crew rejoiced when these tidings came to them; and perhaps none was more truly glad at heart than Skipper John Middlemas of the good ship Merry Andrew .
* * *
[1] banished: Drove away.
[2] blizzard: A storm of wind and snow.
[3] ruefully: Sadly.
[4] mate: Next in rank below the captain.
