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Updated: June 15, 2025
"The third mate, sir," he answered. "I will see the first and second mates then, as soon as they have finished their observations. Go and call them, Owen," said the captain. Owen hurried on deck. The second mate, with the assistance of the third, had just taken a satisfactory observation. Owen told Mr Grey that the captain wished to see him, but Mr Scoones had not made his appearance on deck.
Owen found that they were on board the "Sylvia," a thirty-six gun frigate, commanded by Captain Stanhope, on her way to Batavia. He had reason to suspect that the sand-bank on which they had been wrecked was further to the westward than Mr Scoones had supposed, and that had they not been picked up they would have perished long before reaching Java.
Owen knew that Mr Scoones had now the power to treat him in any way he might please to confine him to his cabin, or even to put him in irons; at all events, that his own position in the ship would be greatly altered. Scarcely, indeed, had the captain's body been committed to its ocean grave than Mr Scoones turned him out of the cabin and made him take up his berth with the apprentices amidships.
They proved a valuable addition to their fare, and assisted, with the dried fruit which had been saved, in warding off scurvy. The wind was, however, very light, and but slow progress was made. At length it became perfectly calm. Mr Scoones immediately ordered the men to get out the oars.
Unwilling to be absent longer than possible, he then hastened back to the cabin. The second mate was with the captain, who was weaker than before, although perfectly composed. He had been bidding Mr Grey farewell, and had been sending a few parting words to the officers and crew. The first mate soon appeared. "I wish to say good-bye, Mr Scoones," said the captain.
"You certainly showed no inclination for my society, and unhappily all the other officers were lost. Had it not been for the ship's boy you speak of, and the only man who remained sober, we none of us should have escaped." "Well, well," answered Mr Scoones, "let bygones be bygones.
One of the strangest things met by the present writer in the course of preparing this book was a remark of the late Mr. Scoones an old acquaintance and a man who has deserved most excellently on the subject in reference to Southey's letters, that they show the author as "dry and unsympathetic." "They contain too much information to be good as letters."
"Depend upon it we shall have clear skies and a smooth sea before long; we shall then run along famously, and make up for lost time," he observed. Mr Scoones kept up his character as a good seaman. For hours together he sat at the helm, and only gave it up to Bill Pratt, who was the next best hand to him. At last, as Owen had predicted, the wind fell, and the sea went down.
Mr Scoones pointed out to the men that their only chance of safety was at once to get to the sand-bank, which was of considerable extent. "The youngsters raft will assist us to carry across the things which have been saved," he observed. Fortunately most of the casks which had been brought by the large raft had been picked up, as well as a good many others.
Owen bore his change of circumstances without complaining. He considered that there would be no use in expostulating with Mr Scoones; indeed, that by so doing he might make matters worse. The first mate, or rather the captain, for so he insisted on being called, ordered him about as he did the other apprentices, and made him perform the roughest style of work.
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