PERIL AND PRIVATION.

BY JAMES PAYN.

THE TRIALS OF PHILIP AUSTIN.

It is not seldom, in the melancholy records of shipwreck, that the "noble savage" maintains the character with which writers of romance have invested him. He is generally cruel, pitiless, greedy of gain, and more to be feared by the helpless mariner than the reef or the storm. There have been, however, one or two exceptions to this general rule, and the British sailor Captain Philip Austin had reason to speak well of the Caribs of Tobago.

In 1756 he sailed from Barbadoes, in a brig of eighty tons, to the Dutch settlement of Surinam. These people were so much in need of horses that at that time no vessel was permitted to trade with them of whose lading horses did not form a part, and, as well may be imagined, they were not the safest kind of cargo. So rigidly was this strange rule enforced that masters of ships were compelled to preserve the ears and hoofs of horses dying on the passage, and to make oath that they had embarked them alive for the colony.

On the night of the 10th of August, of the year mentioned, when near their journey's end, and while Austin and his mate were keeping watch together, "sitting on hen-coops" and "telling stories to one another, in order to while away the time, according to the customs of mariners of all countries," the broadside of the brig suddenly turned to windward, through the fouling of the tiller, and there being a heavy sea on, she filled at once, so that five out of the nine men who formed her crew "were drowned in their hammocks without a groan." The vessel then upset, going completely over, with her masts and sails in the water, "the horses rolling out above each other, and the whole together exhibiting a most distressing sight."

The coast was of sand, and the sea comparatively shallow, so that some portions of the brig were above water. To these the survivors clung, and at once stripped themselves of their clothes, except one who could not swim, and who was therefore without hope of saving himself by that means. There was one small boat, twelve feet long, fortunately unsecured by lashings, and this floated out, and was seized upon by the mate, but it was bottom upward.

Austin swam out to him, and the two endeavored to right her. This, after many efforts, was accomplished, "the mate contriving to put his feet against the gunwale and to seize the keel with his hands," while Austin "tilted her up from the opposite side with his shoulders." She was still, however, full of water. This was got rid of in a very ingenious manner, for the enormous hat which Austin wore, "after the fashion of the dwellers in the West Indies," was useless to bail her. The mast of the brig rose and fell some twenty feet, and the captain fastened a rope to its top, and held on to it from the boat. Whenever the vessel rose, it lifted up him and the boat, by which three-fourths of the water was emptied; but "having no means of disengaging her from the masts and shrouds, they fell down, driving him and the boat under the surface, and nearly breaking his thigh."

Despite his wound, which, however, rendered any further attempt without assistance hopeless, Austin threw himself into the water, and with the rope in his mouth swam to the men on board the brig, who, by their united strength, hauled the boat over the brig's stern, and emptied it. A hole, however, was knocked in it by this rough treatment, which was repaired by being stuffed with the shirt of the man who could not swim, and had therefore retained that garment. They had no oar, no sail, and except a dog belonging to the captain, "which was gladly taken in case of necessity," no provisions.

The brig remained longer above water than might have been expected, for she had casks of flour and butter on board, "the former of which slowly imbibes water, and the latter always swims," but none of these things could be got at. When she sank, the boat being still kept near her, a chest containing clothes and linen, with chocolate and sugar, floated out of her, and for these poor sailors it contained more than the riches of the Indies. It was too large, however, to be lifted into the boat, which, indeed, it would have sunk; and though they exhausted every means to open it, they found this impossible, and had to let it go. They picked up thirteen floating onions, and that was all.

They had no fresh-water; they were without any kind of implement except a knife, which was in the pocket of the sailor who could not swim, and they calculated that at the very nearest they were one hundred and fifty miles from land. Surely never were human creatures in a worse position.

Not a moment, however, was lost in vain regrets. By patient perseverance they loosened one of the planks with which the boat was lined, and formed it into a kind of mast, which they tied to the foremost thwart; another piece of plank served as a yard, and to this they fixed their only pair of trousers for a sail. Two of the men had always to lie along the gunwale with their backs to the waves, which would otherwise have swamped the boat, and, even so, another had constantly to bail it by means of the Dutch hat.

Thus they ran before the wind all night at the rate of about a league an hour. At daylight they ate half an onion each, which "wonderfully revived them," but they were tormented with agonies of thirst. Their naked limbs, too, were so scorched with the sun that from head to foot they were red and blistered as from fire. On the third day the captain killed his dog. He "afterward reflected on it with regret, but at that time no such sentiment affected him."

At last the exhausted men gave themselves up to despair, and refused to make any more exertions for their own deliverance, nor would he who had to bail the boat continue to do so, though Austin fell "on his knees to entreat him."

On the fifth day an enormous shark followed the boat—an omen the dark meaning of which was only too well known to them; and this depressed them still further. The dog had long been eaten, and they caught but one flying-fish, which was little indeed among so many. There were several heavy showers, but there was nothing to catch the rain in but the hat and the trousers, which had become so impregnated by salt-water that they were almost useless for that purpose. "Their only resource was endeavoring to catch a few drops as they fell into their open mouths to cool the heat of their tongues."

The two seamen drank sea-water and became delirious, but the captain and mate resisted that temptation; they each kept a nail in his mouth, and sprinkled his head with water, which afforded but slight relief to their sufferings. On the eighth day the two men died, but in the evening the boat reached land, and the two survivors, "forsaking the bodies of their companions, crept out of the boat and crawled on all fours" along the sand. The cliffs that walled it they were quite unable to climb up.

At eight in the morning a young Carib discovered them, "whose eyes, upon beholding their forlorn appearance, filled with tears." He understood a few French words, and informed them that they were on the island of Tobago. He brought them fresh-water, which they drank with passionate eagerness, and cakes of cassava and broiled fish, which they could not swallow.

Other natives showed them similar kindness, removing the two corpses out of the boat "with signs of the utmost compassion," and following in all respects the example of the good Samaritan. They brought soup, which seemed to Austin the most delicious food he had ever tasted, but his stomach was in so weak a state that it refused to retain it. Herbs and broth were prepared for him by the women, and his wound was bathed with a lotion made of tobacco. Every morning the men lifted these unfortunates from their hammocks, and carried them in their arms under the shade of a lemon-tree while they anointed their blistered skin with a healing oil pressed from the tails of crabs.

In consequence of this friendly care and attention Austin was able in three weeks to go about on crutches, and receive Carib visitors from all parts of the island, "none of whom came empty handed." He gave boards with his name cut on them, to be shown to any ship captains who might chance to touch on the island, and after many weeks this plan met with success. A sloop, bound for Martinique, laden with mules, touched at Sandy Point, the western extremity of Tobago, and its master at once sent the intelligence to Messrs. Roscoe & Nyles at Barbadoes, the owners of Captain Austin's bark, who promptly sent a small vessel to fetch him.

When about to depart, the friendly Caribs loaded him down with presents of poultry and fruit, especially oranges and lemons, which they thought useful for his recovery. He had absolutely nothing to give them in return, save the boat in which he had arrived, and which they might have taken without his leave. More than thirty of them accompanied him to the beach, where, at parting from them, "neither Austin nor the mate could refrain from tears."

The effects of the poor captain's privations were lasting. His digestion was so impaired that he could hardly speak or walk, and had to give up his calling and return to England. His case excited much public attention. A Bath physician, Dr. Russell, who had resided in the East, and was accustomed to deal with cases arising from long-protracted thirst in the Arabian deserts, came to London to prescribe for him. By means of constant bathing, and asses' milk for his only diet, Austin regained his health in six months, and survived his disaster two-and-twenty years.