A FALSE AND A REAL ALARM
Before daybreak everyone was up and eager for the fray, and directly
breakfast was over they sallied down to the shore. It was still pitch
dark, but the time of dead low water made it absolutely necessary that
operations should commence ere the sun rose.
By the light of several lanterns the slack of the hawsers was taken in
and the two canoes pinned down so far as the united efforts of all
hands would permit. Nothing more could be done till the rising of the
tide.
The cradle, its ends marked by long poles to indicate its position at
high water, was already run out so far as the lines of the slipway
extended, a rope being fastened to it from the windlass ashore.
Anxiously the little group of workers watched the tide rise slowly,
inch by inch, up the temporary tide gauge. Sometimes it paused as a
"false ebb" in the offing stayed its progress, till at length it crept
within a few inches of its predicted height.
"There's enough water now, I fancy," announced Ellerton, "so heave
away. Gently does it!"
It was an anxious time. Slowly the two canoes were warped shore wards,
guided by a pair of ropes abeam so as to insure the wrecked boat being
deposited evenly on the cradle. Already the two outer poles of the
cradle were passed, when a slight shock told the salvors that the
yawl's forefoot had touched the cradle.
"Avast there!" shouted Ellerton to Terence and Quexo, who were hauling
on the shore.
"There's not enough water," exclaimed Andy, with dismay written on his
face.
"Ten minutes yet before high water," announced Mr. McKay. "Will she do
it, I wonder?"
For answer Ellerton slipped off his clothes and plunged over the side
of the canoe. Mr. McKay and Andy could follow his movements as he
descended with slow yet powerful strokes, till he disappeared from view
beneath the submerged craft. Half a minute later he reappeared, and
swam alongside the canoe, into which he was assisted by the eager
spectators.
"She'll do it," he announced, when he had recovered his breath. "We
are a bit out in our reckoning; her keel is touching the side of the
cradle."
Five minutes later the yawl was lying immediately over the slipway, the
slings were cast off, and slowly she settled upon the carriage prepared
for her reception. The canoes were warped clear, and all that remained
to be done was to man the winch and heave the cradle above high-water
mark.
In spite of the broiling sun, the work of winding the winch was begun,
for the delighted lads would not be persuaded to delay the operation
till the cool of the day. Foot by foot the cradle came home, till the
huge barnacle-covered hull began to appear above the water.
"What a state she's in," exclaimed Andy, as the lads rested from their
labours, for they were thoroughly played out. "There's a week's
scraping in front of us before we can do anything else."
"Hadn't we better see about baling her out?" asked Terence. "Directly
she ceases to be water-borne the pressure of the water will burst her
seams."
"No fear of that," replied Mr. McKay. "The water will find its way out
of the hole that the natives made in her."
"I guess the motor is pretty rusty," continued Terence.
"It may not be," Andy replied. "You see, I kept it smothered in
grease, and unless those brutes smashed it, it ought to be capable of
being repaired. But I am awfully anxious to see, so what do you say to
another turn at the winch?"
Once more the lads resumed their work of hauling up the cradle, till
nearly the whole of the streaming, weed-covered hull--a forlorn waif
from the sea--was visible.
"Another five yards, lads," exclaimed Ellerton cheerfully. "Now, put
more beef into it."
As he spoke, there was a warning shout from Mr. McKay, but the warning
came too late. Ere the lads could realise the extent of their
misfortune the cradle collapsed and the hull of the yawl crashed over
on her side.
With a horrible rending of the shattered timbers, the enormous mass
pitched fairly on a jagged rock; the next instant the object of so many
months' tedious toil lay on its broadside, hopelessly damaged.
For quite a minute all hands gazed in speechless grief upon the scene
of calamity. To have the fruits of victory snatched from their lips
seemed almost more than they could realise, till by degrees the extent
of their misfortune began to assert itself.
"Is she really done for?" said Andy, his voice barely raised above a
whisper.
"Yes, her back's broken," replied his father. "She will never float
again."
"Then, by George!" announced Andy, speaking in a tone that surprised
his companions by its resolution, "I won't be done. I begin to build
another craft to-morrow. Come on, pater, let's get something to eat,
and after that we'll set out the plans for our new craft. Buck up,
Hoppy, it's no use crying over spilt milk."
Inspired by their companion's cheerfulness, the lads turned their backs
upon the scene of their ill-favoured labours and set off towards the
house. They now felt specially anxious to devote their energies to the
new task that lay before them, and already their late misfortune was
being regarded as a thing of the past.
"Without wishing to discourage you, Andy," began Mr. McKay, after the
meal was over, "I think we had better give up all idea of building
another craft. I've been going carefully into this matter, and I'll
tell you why I form this conclusion. You see there's no timber growing
on this island that can be used, and our own stock is insufficient even
if we make use of the planks of the wrecked yawl. So I think the best
thing we can do is to convert one of the canoes----"
"But I thought we had already decided that they are unsuitable and
unseaworthy?"
"Quite so. As they are at present I should hesitate to make a long
voyage in one of them, although the natives frequently travel great
distances in this type of craft. So I think if we give the smallest
canoe--for that one seems the handiest--a good keelson, bolt a false
keel into it, and provide her with some stout timbers and stringers,
she'll answer our purpose. We can use most of the deck planks of the
yawl to deck-in the canoe. Her sails and most of her gear will come in
handy."
"It would certainly save a lot of work," replied Andy, for in calmer
moments the size of his proposed task had begun to assert itself.
"Then let's make a start," added Ellerton. "There's no time like the
present, so I vote we begin to dismantle the remains of the yawl,
examine and overhaul her canvas, and remove the ballast."
"I haven't measured the smallest canoe," remarked Andy. "What's her
length, do you think?"
"About twenty-eight feet in length, nine in breadth, and two feet
draught, though with the addition of a false keel and ballast she will
draw at least four feet."
Accordingly all hands set to work with a will, and ere nightfall the
shattered hull of the yawl was a mere shell, the gear being stowed away
in the lower storehouse.
"To-morrow we'll make a start with the canoe," said Ellerton, as they
prepared to retire for the night. "There are plenty of pieces of
timber to shore her up, and wedges can easily be made. Before the end
of the week we ought to have her keel and keelson bolted on."
"Then sleep well on it," added Mr. McKay, "for there's much to be done."
The inhabitants of McKay's Island had already made their customary
signal with the searchlight, the power had been switched off, and the
canvas hood placed over the instrument for the purpose of protecting it
from the night dews. This routine was always the last ere the day's
work ended.
Mr. McKay was about to close the door of the dwelling-house when a
rapid and prolonged ringing of the electric alarm bell broke upon the
stillness of the night.
Instantly there was a rush for the arms-rack where the rifles were kept
ready for immediate use, and, securing their weapons, the whole party
made for the open, Terence, according to a prearranged plan, running to
the powerhouse to switch on the current, while the others took up their
position at the palisade commanding the cliff-path.
The night was pitch dark; a light breeze ruffled the palm trees, but
beyond that all was still. Peering into the darkness the defenders
waited, finger on trigger, to open fire on the first appearance of the
foe.
Then the alarm bell began to ring again.
"There's someone climbing the path," whispered Ellerton, when the din
had died away.
"I wish Terence would hurry up with the searchlight; we could then see
who the intruders are. There it is again," as the clanging of the bell
commenced for the third time.
In his natural anxiety and haste, Terence fumbled over his task, but at
length the carbons fused and the giant beam of the searchlight threw
its dazzling rays seaward. Then, trained by Donaghue's guiding hand,
it swept the lower terraces and the beach, but neither hostile canvas
nor lurking bloodthirsty warriors came within its blinding glare.
"There's someone moving down there," exclaimed Andy, pointing towards
the foot of the steep path. "See! To the right of that great boulder."
"Hanged if I can," muttered Ellerton. Nevertheless he took aim with
his rifle at the spot indicated by his chum.
"It's only the shadows thrown by the moving beam," said Mr. McKay.
"Terence, keep the light steady for a moment, will you?"
The now stationary ray revealed the fact that some moving object was
creeping cautiously over the rock-strewn beach immediately at the end
of the path.
"There's someone down there," whispered Ellerton, and almost as he
spoke the alarm bell resumed its shrill warning.
"I'm going down to see who or what it is," announced Mr. McKay, leaning
his rifle against the stockade and drawing a revolver.
Accompanied by Andy, Ellerton and Quexo, he descended the steep and
rugged path.
All at once Mr. McKay burst into a hearty laugh, his companions joining
in as soon as they perceived the cause of his mirth. A huge turtle had
crawled across the beach and was digging a hole in the sand with its
flippers. This had set the alarm bell ringing.
[Illustration: A HUGE TURTLE HAD CRAWLED ACROSS THE BEACH AND HAD SET
THE ALARM BELL RINGING]
As the larder needed filling, the turtle was dispatched and dragged up
to the house.
It was late in the forenoon of the next day ere the inmates turned out
of their beds, for the previous night's diversion had deprived them of
a fair share of their accustomed sleep.
"Buck up and fill the kettle, Quexo," shouted Andy "I'm right hungry."
The mulatto, taking a can in his hand, set out for the stream, but
hardly had he stepped outside the door when he returned with
consternation written all over his face.
"Massa! Massa!" he gasped. "Canoes! Heap, plenty, much, great
canoes!"