CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

SHIPWRECK--THE WHITE QUEEN OF THE ISLE OF FLOWERS.

To and fro, to and fro, on the quarter-deck walked the imperturbable Yankee, Mr Hall, quietly pulling at his huge cigar. He had seen the ladies, and had told them straight that it was to be a fearful storm, and now he would wait to see what Fate had in store for them.

But more impatient far was Captain Dickson. Would steam never be got up? He had an idea which way the storm would come, and he wanted to steam southwards, and as much out of its track as possible.

At last the steam begins to roar, and now the screw revolves, and the good ship cleaves its way through the darkness of sky and sea. Dickson is somewhat relieved. He puts two men to the wheel, and sailors lash them to it. Well Dickson knows that the storm will be a fearful one.

Who is this fluttering up along the deck? A little dot all in white-- nothing on but a night-dress. Matty, of course.

"I lunned away," she explained, "and tomed (came up) to see the lightnin's flash."

"Oh, my darling!" cried Reginald, "you must come with me at once!"

He picked the little fairy up, and quickly had her safely below again.

The men were busy battening down when he returned to deck. Here and there along the bulwarks loose ropes were left that the men, if needful, might lash themselves to the rigging.

But now the rain began to come down, first in scattered drops, then in a hot and awful torrent. Louder and louder roared the thunder, brighter and still more vivid flashed the lightning. The thunder-claps followed the lightning so quickly that Dickson knew it was very near.

"Lash yourselves, lads!" the skipper roared through the speaking-trumpet. "She is coming!"

Ah! come she did. And no shoreman can ever tell what the vehemence of a circular hurricane like this sweeping across the ocean is like in strength and vehemence.

Dickson had just time to shout, "The first shock will be the strongest, boys," when the terrible storm burst upon the doomed ship with a violence indescribable, and a noise like a hundred great guns fired at once.

Thrown at first almost on her beam-ends, she soon righted, and now she was tossed about like a cork. High up on a mighty wave at one moment, down in a dark gulf the next. The foam of the breaking waters and the incessant lightning was the only light they had, and in this glare the faces of the crew looked blue and ghastly.

Bravely did the men stick to the wheel. Hall himself had gone early below to comfort the ladies. Yet, although the waves and spray were making a clean breach over the ship, luckily she was well battened down, and it was dry below. The seas that tumbled inboard were hot and seething.

Mr Hall prevailed upon his wife and daughter to lie down on the lockers, or couches, and to these he did his best to lash them; but so great was the uncertain motion, that he had to clutch with one hand to the table while he did so.

The air down below was as hot as the waters on deck; hot and sulphurous, so that the perspiration stood on the brows of all below. It was indeed a fearful storm.

But it lulled at last, though two men had been called to their account-- swept overboard in the clutches of a great green sea.

It lulled; but the intensity of the pitchy darkness still continued. It was no longer a circular storm, but a gale, settling down to less than half a gale towards the commencement of the morning watch. But the binnacle had been washed away, and the men were steering only by blind chance.

Just as daylight, grey and gloomy, began to appear in the east, an awful tell-tale rasping was heard beneath the keel of the _Wolverine_, and almost at once two of her masts went by the board.

"Axes, men!" cried Dickson--"axes, and clear away the wreck!"

It was a dangerous and difficult task, with every now and then a huge sea rushing in from astern, and all but sweeping the decks.

Daylight came in quickly now, though clouds seemingly a mile in depth obscured the sun, and the horizon was close on board of them all around.

But yonder, looming through the mist, was a coral shore, with huge rugged, and apparently volcanic, mountains rising behind it. Fearing she would soon break up, Captain Dickson determined to lower a boat at all hazards, manned by four of his strongest and best sailors. In this Hall begged that his wife might go with the maid, and the request was granted. Mr Hall watched that boat as she rose and fell on the troubled waters with the greatest anxiety and dread. Suddenly he staggered and clutched the rigging, and his eyes seemed starting from his head.

"Oh, my God! my God!" he cried. "My wife! my wife!"

For a bigger wave than any, a huge breaker or bore, in fact came rushing from seawards and engulfed the unfortunate boat.

And she was never seen, nor anyone who had gone in her. The crew and poor Mrs Hall, with her maid, now--

"Lie where pearls lie deep, Yet none o'er their low bed may weep."

Mr Hall was led below by the kind-hearted captain himself, and threw himself on a couch in an agony of grief. Dickson forced him to take a large stimulant, and put a man to watch him, fearing he might rush on deck and pitch himself into the sea.

As to their whereabouts, or the latitude and longitude of that strange, wild island, Dickson knew nothing. He had many times and oft sailed these seas, and was certain he had never seen those lofty peaks and rugged hills before. Although the wind continued, and the keel was breaking up, although she was fast making water below, he determined to hang on to her as long as possible, for there was a probability that the storm might soon die away.

Some of the crew, however, grew impatient at last, and, in spite of threats, lowered another boat, into which crowded six men.

Alas! they, too, went down before they were many yards from the wreck.

But see these figures now flitting up and down on the coral sands! And, strangest sight of all, there is among those dusky, almost naked savages, the tall and commanding figure of a white woman, dressed in skins. The savages are evidently obeying her slightest behest, for a queen she is.

With ropes of grass they are stoutly binding together three large canoes, flanked by outriggers, thus forming a kind of wide raft. Then these are launched, and right rapidly do the paddles flash and drip and ply, as the triple craft nears the ship. The raft seems to come through the seas rather than over them, but busy hands are baling, and, by the time this strange construction arrives on the lee bow, the canoes are free of water.

The _Wolverine_ has but few on board her now, only eight men of the crew, with the officers, little Matty, Hall, and Miss Hall. These latter are lowered first, with three men. They are safely landed through the surf, and Dickson can see the strange white woman advance towards them with outstretched arms.

The raft comes back again, and all on board are now taken off, Captain Dickson being the last to leave the doomed ship.

Oscar, the grand Newfoundland, prefers to swim. No terrors have the waves or surf for him, and he is on shore barking joyfully as he races up and down the beach long before the raft rasps upon the silver sands.

The strange, skin-dressed lady met them. She was English, and dubbed herself Queen of the Isle of Flowers.

"For ten long years," she told Captain Dickson, "I have been here, and yours is the first ship I have seen. But come to my house behind the hills, and I will tell you my strange story later on."

Though drenched to the skin, they all most gladly followed the Queen, up glens, and by zigzag paths, and over wild hills, till at last they came to one of the wildest and most beautiful valleys these adventurers had ever beheld. Now they could understand how the Queen had named it the Isle of Flowers.

A beautiful stream went meandering through the valley with every species of tropical or semi-tropical flowering trees it is possible to imagine growing on its banks. No wonder that Matty, whom Reginald carried in his strong arms, cried:

"Oh, doc, dear, zis (this) is surely fairyland! Oh, doc, I'se dizzy wi' beauty!"

"Hurry on," said the Queen; "a keen wind is blowing on this hilltop."

In the midst of a forest of magnolias that scented the air all around, they found the road that led to the Queen's palace. A long, low building it was, and seemingly comfortable; but the path that led to it was bordered on each side with human skulls placed upon poles.

Noticing Dickson's look of horror, she smiled.

"These are the skulls of our enemies--a tribe that in war canoes visited our island a few years ago, but never found their way back. My people insisted on placing those horrid relics there. Had I refused my permission, I should have been deposed, probably even slain."

Into one room she showed the ladies, the officers and few remaining men into another. Here were couches all around, with comfortable mats of grass, and on these, tired and weary, everyone lay and many slept, till their garments were dried in the sun by the Queen's servants.

It was afternoon now, but the wind had lulled, and soon it was night, clear and starry. The vessel had gone on shore at low tide, but some time during the middle watch a great wave had lifted her and thrown her on her beam-ends high up on the coral sands.

Next morning, when Dickson and Reginald went over the hills, after a hearty breakfast of roast yams and delicious fish, they found that the sea had receded so far that they could walk around the wreck on the dry sand.

That day was spent--with the assistance of the Queen's special servants--in saving from the vessel everything of value, especially stores, and the ship's instruments.

Casks of rum and flour, casks of beans, and even butter, with nearly all the bedding and clothes. These latter were spread on the beach to dry. Inland, to the Queen's mansion, everything else was borne on litters.

But the greatest "save" of all was the arms and ammunition, to say nothing of tools of every description, and canvas wherewith good tents might be built later on.

When all was secured that could be secured, and the remainder of the crew had joined them--

"Men," said Dickson, "let us pray."

Down on the coral strand knelt the shipwrecked men, while, with eyes streaming with tears, Captain Dickson prayed as perhaps he had never prayed before, to that Heavenly Father who had spared the lives of those before him.

The natives stood aside wonderingly, but they listened intently and earnestly when, led by their captain, the mariners sang a portion of that beautiful psalm:

"God is our refuge and our strength, In straits a present aid; Therefore, although the earth remove, We will not be afraid."