Chapter VI: The Crunching Noise Added to the Horror of the Situation

That ship of the dead was a sad and fearful sight.

So high too was her hull, that it was feared at first that to board her would be impossible. But one of the sailors, making a knot on the end of a strong piece of rope, threw it up over the bulwarks, and after many unsuccessful attempts, succeeded in making it stick to something. Then he shinned up and made the end perfectly secure to an iron, but rusty, belaying pin. Antonio and Barclay both swarmed up hand over hand, till they caught the seaman’s hand and alighted safely on the deck.

As our heroes were drawing near to the derelict in the boat, and as she gently swung to and fro to the scud of the seas, they were surprised to see the whole of the hull, nearly as high up as the bulwarks, covered with grey gulf weed and bivalve shells. The seaweed had been originally brown, but was now incrusted with a species of marine lichen, and the deck itself was slimy and green, so that it was difficult indeed to walk upon it, and both Antonio and Barclay looked about them in a kind of bewildered way. But they soon recovered, and commenced to explore. They first cast their eyes aloft. The lower masts were still standing, and solid strong timber they looked; the lower rigging also, but yard-arms there were none; the jibboom and even a portion of the bowsprit were gone, and the bulwarks forward were sadly rent and torn.

Just behind the windlass were two bundles of what appeared at first to be seaweed covered with lichen. A boathook was procured, and the bundles were stirred up.

They dropped in pieces, rattling down on the deck in separate bones, for skeletons indeed they were.

This was a sickening and horrible discovery. Near them lay what seemed the skeleton of a dog.

But more horrors were to come, for diving cautiously now down the fore-hold, they found three more skeletons near the galley and cooking-range. They too were green and slimy, and the odour that pervaded these ’tween decks was so fœtid and horrible, that our heroes were glad to find themselves on deck once more.

So slippery was the ladder, that it was difficult indeed to ascend it.

Slowly now, and with hearts that were inexpressibly sad, they made their way aft and down below to the cabin or saloon. They had first taken the precaution to burst open the skylight and wait for a time. It was well they did so, for the emanating odour was sickening in the extreme.

The sight that met their eyes when at last they entered the saloon was one that would have appalled hearts less stout and brave.

On the deck lay the skeleton of a man, with a rusty revolver not far off. There was a hole in the skull right behind, so that it was evident he had not died by his own hand.

On a half-rotten and slimy sofa lay another skeleton, and, horrible to relate, the shaft of a dagger or knife still protruded from the ribs on the left side. But the bony hand and arm that had held that knife lay by the side of mortal remains.

“A certain case of suicide,” said Antonio, and his voice sounded hollow and uncanny in this awful saloon.

Determined to elucidate the mystery if possible, Antonio, followed by Barclay, made his way to what seemed the chief state-room--no doubt the skipper’s.

As he walked across the deck towards it, small loathsome-looking brown crabs went scuttling across and hid in the darkest corners. Some were unwittingly crushed under foot, and the crunching noise added to the horror of the situation.

With the boathook Antonio dashed open the saloon door; then all three men retreated till the foul air escaped.

In doing so Barclay kicked a hassock or footstool. It fell in pieces, and all started back with a feeling of fear and dread, for out from the débris wriggled two snakes, or water-serpents, of a kind not uncommon on sandbanks in the Indian Ocean. The creatures made a dash for the companion-ladder, up which they threw themselves in a remarkable manner. The men in the boat alongside were startled to see the snakes leap from the scupper-holes of the derelict and dive into the sea.

Everything was rotten, slimy, and ghastly in this stateroom. There were curtains on the bed which gave way at a touch; the mattress and bedclothes fell to pieces when stirred with the boathook, clothes hung on the wall, but fell to the deck when Antonio entered.

But here in the corner was a safe. The door was shut but not locked, and as Barclay swung it open he found therein gold, watches, and a chronometer. These they took possession of. There was also a ship’s log, but all the first portions of it and its top cover were decayed and rotten.

It was only the last few pages that were decipherable, and much to Antonio’s disappointment, when he took the book carefully out and placed it on the table, he found that it gave no clue to the name of the ship, her port of departure, nor her destination.

But it told briefly and irregularly of the last terrible sufferings of the crew.

The hand that wrote these lines must have been weak and quivering, the head of the writer congested, if not delirious.

The lines, too, and sentences were strangely disconnected and rambling. I give but a portion of them.

“The last writings of Ben Meredith of Lark Cove, Mass., U.S.A.

“If found--to my wife or beloved father, both of that territory--twenty days out, fearful weather, decks swept, topmasts carried away--middle of night awful collision, carried away figure-head and jibboom, and shattered bowsprit and bulwarks--drifting for weeks a hopeless--half the crew stole boats and went away we know not whither. Took the great Sea of Gulf-Weed. Misery untold, and no hopes of ever getting clear. Water lasted, but food ran out--living on seaweed and rats--few fish caught--men down with fever--I and mate last of--terrible sufferings. Think am mad--killed boy and ate him--this ends all, and to-night we die. Mate will shoot me, then kill himself--I shall not know the hour I am to be shot--this has been agreed upon, and ’tis better thus--Heaven forgive us, but we are mad--mad--mad!”

There was more of this rambling, but it was not decipherable. But those two skeletons revealed this secret of the sea.

Long, long years ago the men had gone to their account, and He who knew their terrible sufferings and temptations would judge them mercifully and righteously.

* * * * *

There was little good to be wrought by staying longer on board this awful slimy derelict ship, so full of loathsome things that crept or crawled, so full of death and mystery.

After two days and a night of struggling with the weeds, glad enough were our mariners to get back to their own ship.

She was not yet overgrown with weeds, for men were lowered over the side almost every week to keep her clean.

* * * * *

Almost every day now the whaler with its “weed-plough,” as the sailors called it, was lowered, and Barclay and Davie with a sturdy crew would penetrate as far through the Sargasso Sea as it was safe to go with the certainty of returning before nightfall.

As often as not Teenie went with them. They had a double object in view in making these little cruises--the study of natural history, with the collection of curios, and the catching of fish to help to fill the larder.

Some of these fish, mostly small, lived and dwelt in or near the surface among the long, dark, floating weed. At times they could be found in shining silvery shoals, so dense that they could be taken on board with a landing-net. These were a species of large anchovy or sardine, and evidently did not belong to the Sargasso Sea itself, for, strange to say, the crabs that ran about and over the weeds, the shell-fish that clung to them, all the crustacea, molluscs, hydroids, polyzoa, and annelides were dark-brown like the weeds themselves, and sometimes almost black. Black though they were, the crabs proved to be most delightful eating; so too did many of the fishes caught, but others were so frightfully ugly as to look like sea-demons, and were thrown overboard; so too were some most beautiful flat fish, striped with deep crimson, yellow, and green.

These were called “tartan fish” by the men, and declared to be far too pretty to eat, and probably poisonous.

Occasionally the exploring boat came across a portion of seaweed that seemed alive with wriggling serpents. Most of these horrid reptiles, none of which were over three feet long, had short rudimentary legs near the head and far aft towards the tail. One or two found their way on board in the landing-net, and so diabolical was their appearance as they wriggled and hissed, that Teenie was frightened almost into fits.

Then Barclay would drop the landing-net overboard, and taking the child on his knee, soothe and pet her till she fell asleep.

Some of the worm-like annelides grew to immense size here in this wondrous sea, so much so, that they might have been mistaken for snakes. Specimens of each sort were collected by the boys.

But there was a kind of annelide that the boys did not dare to catch on the days when Teenie was a passenger. It was called the sea-centiped, and its bite was supposed to be fatal. It was not unlike the centiped that often appears on board ship in cases when green wood has been taken on board, only infinitely bigger, and quicker in movement.

One day a sea-centiped ran up Barclay’s sleeve; it was longer than a penholder. The lad was in his shirt sleeves luckily, and probably the dreadful creature was as frightened as the boy was; indeed, he was deadly pale. Davie Drake and Pandoo came to his rescue. Commanding him not to move an inch, they pulled his shirt over head and shoulders, and gradually and cautiously down his arm till the terrible centiped was revealed. All its awful legs were pinching poor Barclay’s skin, and the creature, which had hooks beneath its head, was moving its mandibles horizontally in the most threatening manner, while fire appeared to flash from its eyes. Pandoo placed a handkerchief round the boy’s arm above the elbow-joint, retaining both ends in his hand.

Then all had to wait what appeared an interminable time.

But slowly at last the creature advanced, though pausing oft, and finally crawled on to the handkerchief. Then with a quick jerk Pandoo threw it off into the sea.

Barclay had behaved all the time with great fortitude, but, strangely enough, now that the danger was over he fainted dead away.

A more beautiful, but not dangerous, annelide was found among the seaweed, plentiful enough in some places only. In plain English--for I am sure you do not wish to be bothered with its classical title--it is called the sea-mouse. The creatures were nine inches long and nearly four in breadth, and were the only living things found among the seaweed that were not brown or black.

The strange annelide finds its food among the weeds, and is covered with a kind of down. Above this are many rows of bristles in bunches, that shine and glitter with all the colours of a lovely rainbow.

Many of these were caught and preserved, but to Barclay’s disgust the beautiful colours all faded away. It is thus with many of the lovely creatures one finds in the seas of far-off foreign lands, as I have known often to my sorrow. Hand-painted by Nature they seem to be, and the colours are durable until death, but then they fade away.