A \ B \ C \ D \ E \ F \ G \ H \ I \ J \ K \ L \ M \ N \ O \ P \ R \ S \ T \ U \ V \ W \Z

Blown to Bits by Robert Michael Ballantyne

R >> Robert Michael Ballantyne >> Blown to Bits




While the barrel was being fastened to a spar so as to be thrust well
out beyond the side of the brig, Van der Kemp descended the companion
and opened the cabin door.

"Come up now, Winnie, darling."

"Yes, father," was the reply, as the poor girl, who had been anxiously
awaiting the summons, glided out and clasped her father's arm with both
hands. "Are things quieting down?"

"They are, a little. It may be temporary, but--Our Father directs it
all."

"True, father. I'm _so_ glad of that!"

"Mind the step, we shall have more light on deck. There is a friend
there who has just told me he met you on the Cocos-Keeling Island, Nigel
Roy;--you start, Winnie?"

"Y--yes, father. I am _so_ surprised, for it is _his_ father who sails
this ship! And I cannot imagine how he or you came on board."

"Well, I was going to say that I believe it is partly through Nigel that
you and I have been brought together, but there is mystery about it that
I don't yet understand; much has to be explained, and this assuredly is
not the time or place. Here, Nigel, is your old Keeling friend."

"Ay--friend! humph!" said old Roy softly to himself.

"My _dear_--child!" said young Roy, paternally, to the girl as he
grasped her hand. "I cannot tell you how thankful I am that this has
been brought about, and--and that _I_ have had some little hand in it."

"There's more than pumice floating about in the sea, sir," said Mr.
Moor, coming aft at the moment and speaking to the captain in a low
tone. "You'd better send the young lady below--or get some one to take
up her attention just now."

"Here, Nigel. Sit down under the lee of the companion, an' tell Kathy
how this all came about," said the captain, promptly, as if issuing
nautical orders. "I want you here, Van der Kemp."

So saying, the captain, followed by the hermit, went with the second
mate to the place where the flaming tar-barrel was casting a lurid glare
upon the troubled sea.




CHAPTER XXVII.

"BLOWN TO BITS."


The sight that met their eyes was well calculated to shock and sadden
men of much less tender feeling than Van der Kemp and Captain Roy.

The water had assumed an appearance of inky blackness, and large masses
of pumice were floating past, among which were numerous dead bodies of
men, women, and children, intermingled with riven trees, fences, and
other wreckage from the land, showing that the two great waves which had
already passed under the vessel had caused terrible devastation on some
parts of the shore. To add to the horror of the scene large sea-snakes
were seen swimming wildly about, as if seeking to escape from the novel
dangers that surrounded them.

The sailors looked on in awe-stricken silence for some time.

"P'raps some of 'em may be alive yet!" whispered one. "Couldn't we lower
a boat?"

"Impossible in such a sea," said the captain, who overheard the remark.
"Besides, no life could exist there."

"Captain Roy," said Van der Kemp earnestly, "let me advise you to get
your foresail ready to hoist at a moment's notice, and let them stand by
to cut the cable."

"Why so? There seems no need at present for such strong measures."

"You don't understand volcanoes as I do," returned the hermit. "This
lull will only last until the imprisoned fires overcome the block in the
crater, and the longer it lasts the worse will be the explosion. From my
knowledge of the coast I feel sure that we are close to the town of
Anjer. If another wave like the last comes while we are here, it will
not slip under your brig like the last one. It will tear her from her
anchor and hurl us all to destruction. You have but one chance; that is,
to cut the cable and run in on the top of it--a poor chance at the best,
but if God wills, we shall escape."

"If we are indeed as near shore as you think," said the captain, "I know
what you say must be true, for in shoal water such a wave will surely
carry all before it. But are you certain there will be another
explosion?"

"No man can be sure of that. If the last explosion emptied the crater
there will be no more. If it did not, another explosion is certain. All
I advise is that you should be ready for whatever is coming, and ready
to take your only chance."

"Right you are, sir. Send men to be ready to cut the cable, Mr. Moor.
And stand by the topsail halyards."

"Ay, ay, sir."

During the anxious minutes that followed, the hermit rejoined Winnie and
Nigel on the quarter-deck, and conversed with the latter in a low voice,
while he drew the former to his side with his strong arm. Captain Roy
himself grasped the wheel and the men stood at their various stations
ready for action.

"Let no man act without orders, whatever happens," said the captain in a
deep powerful voice which was heard over the whole ship, for the lull
that we have mentioned extended in some degree to the gale as well as to
the volcano. Every one felt that some catastrophe was pending.

"Winnie, darling," said the hermit tenderly, as he bent down to see the
sweet face that had been restored to him. "I greatly fear that there is
sure to be another explosion, and it may be His will that we shall
perish, but comfort yourself with the certainty that no hair of your
dear head can fall without His permission--and in any event He will not
fail us."

"I know it, father. I have no fear--at least, only a little!"

"Nigel," said the hermit, "stick close to us if you can. It may be
that, if anything should befall me, your strong arm may succour Winnie;
mine has lost somewhat of its vigour," he whispered.

"Trust me--nothing but death shall sunder us," said the anxious youth in
a burst of enthusiasm.

It seemed as if death were indeed to be the immediate portion of all on
board the _Sunshine_, for a few minutes later there came a crash,
followed by a spout of smoke, fire, steam, and molten lava, compared to
which all that had gone before seemed insignificant!

The crash was indescribable! As we have said elsewhere, the sound of it
was heard many hundreds of miles from the seat of the volcano, and its
effects were seen and felt right round the world.

The numerous vents which had previously been noticed on Krakatoa must at
that moment have been blown into one, and the original crater of the old
volcano--said to have been about six miles in diameter--must have
resumed its destructive work. All the eye-witnesses who were near the
spot at the time, and sufficiently calm to take note of the terrific
events of that morning, are agreed as to the splendour of the electrical
phenomena displayed during this paroxysmal outburst. One who, at the
time, was forty miles distant speaks of the great vapour-cloud looking
"like an immense wall or blood-red curtain with edges of all shades of
yellow, and bursts of forked lightning at times rushing like large
serpents through the air." Another says that "Krakatoa appeared to be
alight with flickering flames rising behind a dense black cloud." A
third recorded that "the lightning struck the mainmast conductor five or
six times," and that "the mud-rain which covered the decks was
phosphorescent, while the rigging presented the appearance of St. Elmo's
fire."

It may be remarked here, in passing, that giant steam-jets rushing
through the orifices of the earth's crust constitute an enormous
hydro-electric engine; and the friction of ejected materials striking
against each other in ascending and descending also generates
electricity, which accounts to some extent for the electrical condition
of the atmosphere.

In these final and stupendous outbursts the volcano was expending its
remaining force in breaking up and ejecting the solid lava which
constituted its framework, and not in merely vomiting forth the
lava-froth, or pumice, which had characterised the earlier stages of the
eruption. In point of fact--as was afterwards clearly ascertained by
careful soundings and estimates, taking the average height of the
missing portion at 700 feet above water, and the depth at 300 feet below
it--two-thirds of the island were blown entirely off the face of the
earth. The mass had covered an area of nearly six miles, and is
estimated as being equal to 1-1/8 cubic miles of solid matter which, as
Moses expressed it, was blown to bits!

If this had been all, it would have been enough to claim the attention
and excite the wonder of the intelligent world--but this was not nearly
all, as we shall see, for saddest of all the incidents connected with
the eruption is the fact that upwards of thirty-six thousand human
beings lost their lives. The manner in which that terrible loss occurred
shall be shown by the future adventures of the _Sunshine_.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE FATE OF THE "SUNSHINE."


Stunned at first, for a few minutes, by the extreme violence of the
explosion, no one on board the _Sunshine_ spoke, though each man stood
at his post ready to act.

"Strange," said the captain at last. "There seems to be no big wave this
time."

"That only shows that we are not as near the island as we thought. But
it won't be long of----See! There it comes," said the hermit. "Now,
Winnie, cling to my arm and put your trust in God."

Nigel, who had secured a life-buoy, moved close to the girl's side, and
looking anxiously out ahead saw a faint line of foam in the thick
darkness which had succeeded the explosion. Already the distant roar of
the billow was heard, proving that it had begun to break.

"The wind comes with it," said Van der Kemp.

"Stand by!" cried the captain, gazing intently over the side. Next
moment came the sharp order to hoist the foretopsail and jib, soon
followed by "Cut the cable!"

There was breeze enough to swing the vessel quickly round. In a few
seconds her stern was presented to the coming wave, and her bow cleft
the water as she rushed upon what every one now knew was her doom.

To escape the great wave was no part of the captain's plan. To have
reached the shore before the wave would have been fatal to all. Their
only hope lay in the possibility of riding in on the top of it, and the
great danger was that they should be unable to rise to it stern first
when it came up, or that they should turn broadside on and be rolled
over.

They had not long to wait. The size of the wave, before it came near
enough to be seen, was indicated by its solemn, deep-toned,
ever-increasing roar. The captain stood at the wheel himself, guiding
the brig and glancing back from time to time uneasily.

Suddenly the volcano gave vent to its fourth and final explosion. It was
not so violent as its predecessors had been, though more so than any
that had occurred on the day before, and the light of it showed them the
full terrors of their situation, for it revealed the mountains of
Java--apparently quite close in front, though in reality at a
considerable distance--with a line of breakers beating white on the
shore. But astern of them was the most appalling sight, for there,
rushing on with awful speed and a sort of hissing roar, came the
monstrous wave, emerging, as it were, out of thick darkness, like a
mighty wall of water with a foaming white crest, not much
less--according to an average of the most reliable estimates--than 100
feet high.

Well might the seamen blanch, for never before in all their varied
experience had they seen the like of that.

On it came with the unwavering force of Fate. To the eye of Captain Roy
it appeared that up its huge towering side no vessel made by mortal man
could climb. But the captain had too often stared death in the face to
be unmanned by the prospect now. Steadily he steered the vessel straight
on, and in a quiet voice said--

"Lay hold of something firm--every man!"

The warning was well timed. In the amazement, if not fear, caused by the
unwonted sight, some had neglected the needful precaution.

As the billow came on, the bubbling, leaping, and seething of its crest
was apparent both to eye and ear. Then the roar became tremendous.

"Darling Winnie," said Nigel at that moment. "I will die for you or with
you!"

The poor girl heard, but no sign of appreciation moved her pale face as
she gazed up at the approaching chaos of waters.

Next moment the brig seemed to stand on its bows. Van der Kemp had
placed his daughter against the mast, and, throwing his long arms round
both, held on. Nigel, close to them, had grasped a handful of ropes, and
every one else was holding on for life. Another moment and the brig rose
as if it were being tossed up to the heavens. Immediately thereafter it
resumed its natural position in a perfect wilderness of foam. They were
on the summit of the great wave, which was so large that its crest
seemed like a broad, rounded mass of tumbling snow with blackness before
and behind, while the roar of the tumult was deafening. The brig rushed
onward at a speed which she had never before equalled even in the
fiercest gale--tossed hither and thither by the leaping foam, yet always
kept going straight onward by the expert steering of her captain.

"Come aft--all of you!" he shouted, when it was evident that the vessel
was being borne surely forward on the wave's crest. "The masts will go
for certain when we strike."

The danger of being entangled in the falling spars and cordage was so
obvious that every one except the hermit and Nigel obeyed.

"Here, Nigel," gasped the former. "I--I've--lost blood--faint!----"

Our hero at once saw that Van der Kemp, fainting from previous loss of
blood, coupled with exertion, was unable to do anything but hold on.
Indeed, he failed even in that, and would have fallen to the deck had
Nigel not caught him by the arm.

"Can you run aft, Winnie?" said Nigel anxiously.

"Yes!" said the girl, at once understanding the situation and darting to
the wheel, of which and of Captain Roy she laid firm hold, while Nigel
lifted the hermit in his arms and staggered to the same spot. Winnie
knelt beside him immediately, and, forgetting for the moment all the
horrors around her, busied herself in replacing the bandage which had
been loosened from his head.

"Oh! Mr. Roy, save him!--save him!" cried the poor child, appealing in
an agony to Nigel, for she felt instinctively that when the crash came
her father would be utterly helpless even to save himself.

Nigel had barely time to answer when a wild shout from the crew caused
him to start up and look round. A flare from the volcano had cast a red
light over the bewildering scene, and revealed the fact that the brig
was no longer above the ocean's bed, but was passing in its wild career
right through, or rather _over_, the demolished town of Anjer. A few of
the houses that had been left standing by the previous waves were being
swept--hurled--away by this one, but the mass of rolling, rushing,
spouting water was so deep, that the vessel had as yet struck nothing
save the tops of some palm-trees which bent their heads like straws
before the flood.

Even in the midst of the amazement, alarm, and anxiety caused by the
situation, Nigel could not help wondering that in this final and
complete destruction of the town no sign of struggling human beings
should be visible. He forgot at the moment, what was terribly proved
afterwards, that the first waves had swallowed up men, women, and
children by hundreds, and that the few who survived had fled to the
hills, leaving nothing for the larger wave to do but complete the work
of devastation on inanimate objects. Ere the situation had been well
realised the volcanic fires went down again, and left the world, for
over a hundred surrounding miles, in opaque darkness. Only the humble
flicker of the binnacle light, like a trusty sentinel on duty, continued
to shed its feeble rays on a few feet of the deck, and showed that the
compass at least was still faithful to the pole!

Then another volcanic outburst revealed the fact that the wave which
carried them was thundering on in the direction of a considerable cliff
or precipice--not indeed quite straight towards it, but sufficiently so
to render escape doubtful.

At the same time a swarm of terror-stricken people were seen flying
towards this cliff and clambering up its steep sides. They were probably
some of the more courageous of the inhabitants who had summoned courage
to return to their homes after the passage of the second wave. Their
shrieks and cries could be heard above even the roaring of the water and
the detonations of the volcano.

"God spare us!" exclaimed poor Winnie, whose trembling form was now
partially supported by Nigel.

As she spoke darkness again obscured everything, and they could do
naught but listen to the terrible sounds--and pray.

On--on went the _Sunshine_, in the midst of wreck and ruin, on this
strange voyage over land and water, until a check was felt. It was not a
crash as had been anticipated, and as might have naturally been
expected, neither was it an abrupt stoppage. There was first a hissing,
scraping sound against the vessel's sides, then a steady checking--we
might almost say a hindrance to progress--not violent, yet so very
decided that the rigging could not bear the strain. One and another of
the back-stays parted, the foretopsail burst with a cannon-like report,
after which a terrible rending sound, followed by an indescribable
crash, told that both masts had gone by the board.

Then all was comparatively still--comparatively we say, for water still
hissed and leaped beneath them like a rushing river, though it no longer
roared, and the wind blew in unfamiliar strains and laden with unwonted
odours.

At that moment another outburst of Krakatoa revealed the fact that the
great wave had borne the brig inland for upwards of a mile, and left her
imbedded in a thick grove of cocoa-nut palms!




CHAPTER XXIX.

TELLS CHIEFLY OF THE WONDERFUL EFFECTS OF THIS ERUPTION ON THE WOULD AT
LARGE.


The great explosions of that morning had done more damage and had
achieved results more astounding than lies in the power of language
adequately to describe, or of history to parallel.

Let us take a glance at this subject in passing.

An inhabitant of Anjer--owner of a hotel, a ship-chandler's store, two
houses, and a dozen boats--went down to the beach about six on the
morning of that fateful 27th of August. He had naturally been impressed
by the night of the 26th, though, accustomed as he was to volcanic
eruptions, he felt no apprehensions as to the safety of the town. He
went to look to the moorings of his boats, leaving his family of seven
behind him. While engaged in this work he observed a wave of immense
size approaching. He leaped into one of his boats, which was caught up
by the wave and swept inland, carrying its owner there in safety. But
this was the wave that sealed the doom of the town and most of its
inhabitants, including the hotel-keeper's family and all that he
possessed.

This is one only out of thousands of cases of bereavement and
destruction.

A lighthouse-keeper was seated in his solitary watch-tower, speculating,
doubtless, on the probable continuance of such a violent outbreak, while
his family and mates--accustomed to sleep in the midst of elemental
war--were resting peacefully in the rooms below, when one of the mighty
waves suddenly appeared, thundered past, and swept the lighthouse with
all its inhabitants away.

This shows but one of the many disasters to lighthouses in Sunda
Straits.

A Dutch man-of-war--the _Berouw_--was lying at anchor in Lampong Bay,
fifty miles from Krakatoa. The great wave came, tore it from its
anchorage, and carried it--like the vessel of our friend David
Roy--nearly two miles inland!

Masses of coral of immense size and weight were carried four miles
inland by the same wave. The river at Anjer was choked up; the conduit
which used to carry water into the place was destroyed, and the town
itself was laid in ruins.

But these are only a few of the incidents of the great catastrophe. Who
can conceive, much less tell of, those terrible details of sudden death
and disaster to thousands of human beings, resulting from an eruption
which destroyed towns like Telok Betong, Anjer, Tyringin, etc., besides
numerous villages and hamlets on the shores of Java and Sumatra, and
caused the destruction of more than 36,000 souls?

But it is to results of a very different kind, and on a much more
extended scale, that we must turn if we would properly estimate the
magnitude, the wide-spreading and far-reaching influences, and the
extraordinary character, of the Krakatoa outburst of 1883.

In the first place, it is a fact, testified to by some of the best-known
men of science, that the shock of the explosion extended _appreciably_
right round the world, and seventeen miles (some say even higher!) up
into the heavens.

Mr. Verbeek, in his treatise on this subject, estimates that a cubic
mile of Krakatoa was propelled in the form of the finest dust into the
higher regions of the atmosphere--probably about thirty miles! The dust
thus sent into the sky was of "ultra-microscopic fineness," and it
travelled round and round the world in a westerly direction, producing
those extraordinary sunsets and gorgeous effects and afterglows which
became visible in the British Isles in the month of November following
the eruption; and the mighty waves which caused such destruction in the
vicinity of Sunda Straits travelled--not once, but at least--six times
round the globe, as was proved by trustworthy and independent
observations of tide-gauges and barometers made and recorded at the same
time in nearly all lands--including our own.

Other volcanoes, it is said by those who have a right to speak in regard
to such matters, have ejected more "stuff," but not one has equalled
Krakatoa in the intensity of its explosions, the appalling results of
the sea-waves, the wonderful effects in the sky, and the almost
miraculous nature of the sounds.

Seated on a log under a palm-tree in Batavia, on that momentous morning
of the 27th, was a sailor who had been left behind sick by Captain Roy
when he went on his rather Quixotic trip to the Keeling Islands. He was
a somewhat delicate son of the sea. Want of self-restraint was his
complaint--leading to a surfeit of fruit and other things, which
terminated in a severe fit of indigestion and indisposition to life in
general. He was smoking--that being a sovereign and infallible cure for
indigestion and all other ills that flesh is heir to, as every one
knows!

"I say, old man," he inquired, with that cheerful tone and air which
usually accompanies incapacity for food. "Do it always rain ashes here?"

The old man whom he addressed was a veteran Malay seaman.

"No," replied the Malay, "sometimes it rain mud--hot mud."

"Do it? Oh! well--anything for variety, I s'pose," returned the sailor,
with a growl which had reference to internal disarrangements.

"Is it often as dark as this in the daytime, an' is the sun usually
green?" he asked carelessly, more for the sake of distracting the mind
from other matters than for the desire of knowledge.

"Sometime it's more darker," replied the old man. "I've seed it so dark
that you couldn't see how awful dark it was."

As he spoke, a sound that has been described by ear-witnesses as
"deafening" smote upon their tympanums, the log on which they sat
quivered, the earth seemed to tremble, and several dishes in a
neighbouring hut were thrown down and broken.

"I say, old man, suthin' busted there," remarked the sailor, taking the
pipe from his mouth and quietly ramming its contents down with the end
of his blunt forefinger.

The Malay looked grave.

"The gasometer?" suggested the sailor.

"No, that _never_ busts."

"A noo mountain come into action, p'raps, an' blow'd its top off?"

"Shouldn't wonder if that's it--close at hand too. We's used to that
here. But them's bigger cracks than or'nar'."

The old Malay was right as to the cause, but wrong as to distance.
Instead of being a volcano "close at hand," it was Krakatoa eviscerating
itself a hundred miles off, and the sound of its last grand effort
"extended over 50 degrees = about 3000 miles."

On that day all the gas lights were extinguished in Batavia, and the
pictures rattled on the walls as though from the action of an
earthquake. But there was no earthquake. It was the air-wave from
Krakatoa, and the noise produced by the air-waves that followed was
described as "deafening."

The effect of the sounds of the explosions on the Straits Settlements
generally was not only striking, but to some extent amusing. At Carimon,
in Java--355 miles distant from Krakatoa--it was supposed that a vessel
in distress was firing guns, and several native boats were sent off to
render assistance, but no distressed vessel was to be found! At Acheen,
in Sumatra--1073 miles distant--they supposed that a fort was being
attacked and the troops were turned out under arms. At Singapore--522
miles off--they fancied that the detonations came from a vessel in
distress and two steamers were despatched to search for it. And here the
effect on the telephone, extending to Ishore, was remarkable. On raising
the tubes a perfect roar as of a waterfall was heard. By shouting at
the top of his voice, the clerk at one end could make the clerk at the
other end hear, but he could not render a word intelligible. At
Perak--770 miles off--the sounds were thought to be distant salvos of
artillery, and Commander Hon. F. Vereker, R.N., of H.M.S. _Magpie_, when
1227 miles distant (in lat. 5 deg. 52' N. long. 118 deg. 22' E.), states that
the detonations of Krakatoa were distinctly heard by those on board his
ship, and by the inhabitants of the coast as far as Banguey Island, on
August 27th. He adds that they resembled distant heavy cannonading. In a
letter from St. Lucia Bay--1116 miles distant--it was stated that the
eruption was plainly heard all over Borneo. A government steamer was
sent out from the Island of Timor--1351 miles off--to ascertain the
cause of the disturbance! In South Australia also, at places 2250 miles
away, explosions were heard on the 26th and 27th which "awakened"
people, and were thought worthy of being recorded and reported. From
Tavoy, in Burmah--1478 miles away--the report came--"All day on August
27th unusual sounds were heard, resembling the boom of guns. Thinking
there might be a wreck or a ship in distress, the Tavoy Superintendent
sent out the police launch, but they 'could see nothing.'" And so on,
far and near, similar records were made, the most distant spot where the
sounds were reported to have been heard being Rodriguez, in the
Pacific, nearly 3000 miles distant!

Copyright (c) 2007. bestextbooks.com. All rights reserved.

Mary Jane Holmes - "Tracy Park"

Grover Cleveland - "A Compilation of the Messages and Papers of the Presidents"

Frank Swinnerton - "Nocturne"

Francis Parkman - "Montcalm and Wolfe"