CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
AN AWFUL STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES--NARROW ESCAPE--A ROCK PROVES A SUREFOUNDATION--A FEARFUL NIGHT AND A BRIGHT MORNING--DELIVERANCE FROMDANGER.
It was evening before we left the island of the penguins. As we hadmade up our minds to encamp for the night on a small island whereon grewa few cocoa-nut trees, which was about two miles off, we lay-to our oarswith some energy. But a danger was in store for us which we had notanticipated. The wind, which had carried us so quickly to PenguinIsland, freshened as evening drew on to a stiff breeze, and before wehad made half the distance to the small island, it became a regulargale. Although it was not so directly against us as to prevent ourrowing in the course we wished to go, yet it checked us very much; andalthough the force of the sea was somewhat broken by the island, thewaves soon began to rise and to roll their broken crests against oursmall craft, so that she began to take in water, and we had much ado tokeep ourselves afloat. At last the wind and sea together became soviolent that we found it impossible to make the island; so Jack suddenlyput the head of the boat round, and ordered Peterkin and me to hoist acorner of the sail, intending to run back to Penguin Island.
"We shall at least have the shelter of the bushes," he said as the boatflew before the wind, "and the penguins will keep us company."
As Jack spoke, the wind suddenly shifted and blew so much against usthat we were forced to hoist more of the sail in order to beat up forthe island, being by this change thrown much to leeward of it. Whatmade matters worse was that the gale came in squalls, so that we weremore than once nearly upset.
"Stand by, both of you!" cried Jack in a quick, earnest tone. "Be readyto deuce the sail. I very much fear we won't make the island afterall."
Peterkin and I were so much in the habit of trusting everything to Jackthat we had fallen into the way of not considering things, especiallysuch things as were under Jack's care. We had, therefore, never doubtedfor a moment that all was going well, so that it was with no littleanxiety that we heard him make the above remark. However, we had notime for question or surmise, for at the moment he spoke a heavy squallwas bearing down upon us, and as we were then flying with our leegunwale dipping occasionally under the waves, it was evident that weshould have to lower our sail altogether. In a few seconds the squallstruck the boat; but Peterkin and I had the sail down in a moment, sothat it did not upset us. But when it was past we were more thanhalf-full of water. This I soon bailed out, while Peterkin againhoisted a corner of the sail. But the evil which Jack had feared cameupon us. We found it quite impossible to make Penguin Island. The galecarried us quickly past it towards the open sea, and the terrible truthflashed upon us that we should be swept out and left to perish miserablyin a small boat in the midst of the wide ocean.
This idea was forced very strongly upon us, because we saw nothing inthe direction whither the wind was blowing us save the raging billows ofthe sea; and indeed we trembled as we gazed around us, for we were nowbeyond the shelter of the islands, and it seemed as though any of thehuge billows, which curled over in masses of foam, might swallow us upin a moment. The water also began to wash in over our sides, and I hadto keep constantly bailing; for Jack could not quit the helm, norPeterkin the sail, for an instant, without endangering our lives. Inthe midst of this distress Jack uttered an exclamation of hope, andpointed towards a low island or rock which lay directly ahead. It hadbeen hitherto unobserved, owing to the dark clouds that obscured the skyand the blinding spray that seemed to fill the whole atmosphere.
As we neared this rock we observed that it was quite destitute of treesand verdure, and so low that the sea broke completely over it. In fact,it was nothing more than the summit of one of the coral formations,which rose only a few feet above the level of the water, and was, instormy weather, all but invisible. Over this island the waves werebreaking in the utmost fury, and our hearts sank within us as we sawthat there was not a spot where we could thrust our little boat withoutits being dashed to pieces.
"Show a little bit more sail!" cried Jack as we swept past the weatherside of the rock with fearful speed.
"Ay, ay!" answered Peterkin, hoisting about a foot more of our sail.
Little though the addition was, it caused the boat to lie over and creakso loudly, as we cleft the foaming waves, that I expected to be upsetevery instant; and I blamed Jack in my heart for his rashness. But Idid him injustice; for although during two seconds the water rushedinboard in a torrent, he succeeded in steering us sharply round to theleeward side of the rock, where the water was comparatively calm and theforce of the breeze broken.
"Out your oars now, lads! That's well done! Give way!" We obeyedinstantly. The oars splashed into the waves together. One good, heartypull, and we were floating in a comparatively calm creek that was sonarrow as to be barely able to admit our boat. Here we were in perfectsafety, and as we leaped on shore and fastened our cable to the rocks, Ithanked God in my heart for our deliverance from so great danger. Butalthough I have said we were now in safety, I suspect that few of myreaders would have envied our position. It is true we had no lack offood; but we were drenched to the skin; the sea was foaming round us,and the spray flying over our heads, so that we were completelyenveloped, as it were, in water; the spot on which we had landed was notmore than twelve yards in diameter, and from this spot we could not movewithout the risk of being swept away by the storm. At the upper end ofthe creek was a small hollow or cave in the rock, which sheltered usfrom the fury of the winds and waves; and as the rock extended in a sortof ledge over our heads, it prevented the spray from falling upon us.
"Why," said Peterkin, beginning to feel cheery again, "it seems to methat we have got into a mermaid's cave, for there is nothing but waterall round us; and as for earth and sky, they are things of the past."
Peterkin's idea was not inappropriate, for what with the sea roaring inwhite foam up to our very feet, and the spray flying in white sheetscontinually over our heads, and the water dripping heavily from theledge above like a curtain in front of our cave, it did seem to us verymuch more like being below than above water.
"Now, boys," cried Jack, "bestir yourselves, and let's make ourselvescomfortable.--Toss out our provisions, Peterkin; and here, Ralph, lend ahand to haul up the boat. Look sharp!"
"Ay, ay, captain!" we cried as we hastened to obey, much cheered by thehearty manner of our comrade.
Fortunately the cave, although not very deep, was quite dry, so that wesucceeded in making ourselves much more comfortable than could have beenexpected. We landed our provisions, wrung the water out of ourgarments, spread our sail below us for a carpet, and after having eatena hearty meal, began to feel quite cheerful. But as night drew on ourspirits sank again, for with the daylight all evidence of our securityvanished away. We could no longer see the firm rock on which we lay,while we were stunned with the violence of the tempest that raged aroundus. The night grew pitchy dark as it advanced, so that we could not seeour hands when we held them up before our eyes, and were obliged to feeleach other occasionally to make sure that we were safe, for the storm atlast became so terrible that it was difficult to make our voicesaudible. A slight variation of the wind, as we supposed, caused a fewdrops of spray ever and anon to blow into our faces; and the eddy of thesea, in its mad boiling, washed up into our little creek until itreached our feet and threatened to tear away our boat. In order toprevent this latter calamity, we hauled the boat farther up and held thecable in our hands. Occasional flashes of lightning shone with aghastly glare through the watery curtains around us, and lent additionalhorror to the scene. Yet we longed for those dismal flashes, for theywere less appalling than the thick blackness that succeeded them.Crashing peals of thunder seemed to tear the skies in twain, and fellupon our ears through the wild yelling of the hurricane as if it hadbeen but a gentle summer breeze; while the billows burst upon theweather side of the island until we fancied that the solid rock wasgiving way, and in our agony we clung to the b
are ground, expectingevery moment to be whirled away and whelmed in the black, howling sea.Oh, it was a night of terrible anxiety! and no one can conceive thefeelings of intense gratitude and relief with which we at last saw thedawn of day break through the vapoury mists around us.
For three days and three nights we remained on this rock, while thestorm continued to rage with unabated fury. On the morning of thefourth day it suddenly ceased, and the wind fell altogether; but thewaves still ran so high that we did not dare to put off in our boat.During the greater part of this period we scarcely slept above a fewminutes at a time; but on the third night we slept soundly, and awokeearly on the fourth morning to find the sea very much down, and the sunshining brightly again in the clear blue sky.
It was with light hearts that we launched forth once more in our littleboat and steered away for our island home, which, we were overjoyed tofind, was quite visible on the horizon, for we had feared that we hadbeen blown out of sight of it altogether. As it was a dead calm, we hadto row during the greater part of the day; but towards the afternoon afair breeze sprang up, which enabled us to hoist our sail. We soonpassed Penguin Island and the other island which we had failed to reachon the day the storm commenced; but as we had still enough ofprovisions, and were anxious to get home, we did not land--to the greatdisappointment of Peterkin, who seemed to entertain quite an affectionfor the penguins.
Although the breeze was pretty fresh for several hours, we did not reachthe outer reef of our island till nightfall; and before we had sailedmore than a hundred yards into the lagoon, the wind died awayaltogether, so that we had to take to our oars again. It was late, andthe moon and stars were shining brightly when we arrived opposite thebower and leaped upon the strand. So glad were we to be safe back againon our beloved island that we scarcely took time to drag the boat ashort way up the beach, and then ran up to see that all was right at thebower. I must confess, however, that my joy was mingled with a vaguesort of fear lest our home had been visited and destroyed during ourabsence; but on reaching it we found everything just as it had beenleft, and the poor black cat curled up, sound asleep, on the coral tablein front of our humble dwelling.
The Coral Island Page 18