AN OLD FRIEND.
Although there was but little variety at the first meal after the
norther, the castaways had every reason to be thankful that so much was
left. Hot tea, canned beef and ships’ bread made a meal such as hungry
people could not grumble about, and when it was ready Gertie went to
the tent for Ben according to Jake’s suggestion.
“You go after him,” the cook said, “’cause I reckon you can do it
better’n me or old Chloe. Of course he feels bad; but he don’t remember
his father, an’ it ain’t to be expected that he’ll grieve so very long.
We’ll make him stir around huntin’ for wreckage, an’ that’ll do him a
power of good.”
What Gertie said to Ben in the way of sympathy the others never knew.
The two remained inside the tent some time, and when they came out the
contents of the box had been restored to their former condition and put
into the excavation again for safe keeping.
Every member of the party was in need of food, and when the meal came
to an end all felt wonderfully refreshed. Their own condition, which
had seemed so desperate while they listened to the letter of the
unfortunate man who died alone on the key, now appeared to be more
hopeful, and instead of viewing the situation in the most dismal light,
Jake spoke very cheerfully.
“We sha’n’t starve to death, even if we have to stay here six months,
because of the shell-fish,” he said by way of preface to the plan
of action he was about to propose. “In that time we oughter rig up
some kind of a craft that’ll carry us to the mainland, or another key
where there’s more chance of bein’ picked up by a vessel. To sit here
thinkin’ of what may happen will only make things worse, an’ all hands
must go to work.”
“What can we do?” Gertie asked.
“You an’ old Chloe must hunt for things that the norther buried in the
sand, an’ I tell you what it is, aunty, nothin’ but hard labor now will
ever give you a chance of seein’ Moses agin.”
“Why don’ dat wuffless nigger come here an’ git his po’ ole mammy when
she’s in sich a terruble place?”
“There’s a good many reasons why he don’t, aunty,” Jake replied with a
laugh. “Fust an’ foremost, he don’t know where she is, an’ then agin
he’d stand a pretty poor show of gettin’ here, ’lowin’ that he wanted
to come, so you’ve got to help yourself. Me an’ Ben will have our hands
full watchin’ the beach for wreckage, an’ we’ve got to look after that
part of the work mighty sharp, ’cause we’re dependin’ on what washes
ashore for our raft. Come, lad, we’ll make a clean circuit of the key
once more, an’ by that time I reckon we’ll want a little rest.”
As he spoke the cook arose to his feet, Ben following the example, and
when the two started toward the beach, Gertie began to carry out the
former’s instructions.
She and Aunt Chloe dug into every hillock of sand industriously,
and before the afternoon was more than half gone they had quite
a collection of household goods. Nearly all the bed-clothing was
recovered; the cases of lime-juice, with which the brackish water in
the breaker could be rendered palatable, were unearthed, and two boxes
of ship’s bread found.
These goods were carried into the tent, and the weary workers had but
just sat down behind the canvas, where they would be sheltered from the
wind at the same time that the warmth of the sun’s rays would reach
them, when the other members of the party returned.
“You’ve had good luck,” Jake said as he looked into the tent, “an’ we
haven’t been so far behind. Ben an’ me have found half a dozen planks
an’ one of the hatches, all of which we’ve dragged up where there won’t
be any danger they’ll be washed away. By to-morrow night I’m allowin’
we’ll have enough to build a pretty comfortable kind of a raft. The
tools an’ nails that were brought ashore must still be here, an’ after
we’ve had a little breathin’ spell we’ll take our turn at bucklin’ onto
the staves.”
Gertie mixed some lime-juice and water, knowing the travelers must be
thirsty after their long walk, and when he had drank what appeared
to be two men’s allowance, the cook filled his pipe, turning in true
sailor fashion to windward as he lighted the match.
That particular flame was never applied to the tobacco, however, for an
instant later he had dashed the pipe to the ground as he shrieked:
“See there! See! See! Now what do you think the chances are of our
leavin’ this blessed key?”
The cook was acting more like an insane person than a castaway who had
just been advocating hard work as a means of preventing the mind from
dwelling on unwelcome thoughts. He danced wildly around, pointing and
staring out over the black, angry-looking waters as if he beheld some
beautiful scene, and it was several moments before his companions could
understand what had caused such a change of manner.
Then Ben succeeded in discovering the same object which had apparently
transformed a weary, reasonably sensible man into a lunatic, and he
shouted as he seized old Chloe by the arms, she having risen to her
feet meantime, forcing her to spin around and around with him like a
top.
“It’s a vessel! It’s a vessel coming right this way, and she can’t fail
to see us!”
After this explanation both Gertie and Chloe were able to distinguish
far away in the distance the white wings, than which nothing could be
more welcome, and the old negress clasped her hands in an ecstasy of
joy as she shouted:
“He’s come! My Moses hab come for his mammy, bress de Lawd! an’ we’se
all gwine home to Savannah once mo’. I’se had ’nuff ob tryin’ to git up
Norf, an’ now, praise de Lam’! I’se gwine ter stay in Georgy.”
By this time Jake had grown more quiet, and as he continued to gaze
over the water a troubled look came upon his face.
“She’s comin’ this way, for a fact,” he said slowly, “but it’s because
she can’t do much of anything else than run dead before the wind. Don’t
you see the foremast has gone by the board, an’ that the other spars
look shaky? She isn’t in very much better trim than the old Simoon was
when we found her.”
“What do you suppose has happened?” Ben asked, forgetting for the
moment the events of the previous night.
“I reckon she’s been foolin’ round with the same norther that made
things lively for us, though why she’s pokin’ her nose into this shoal
water when she could a’ bore up toward the coast, is more’n I can
figger out.”
“Will she stop here and take us away?” Gertie asked as she looked over
the waters, unable at times to distinguish anything save the foaming
crests of the waves.
“I calculate she’s bent on gettin’ to leeward of this island, where
most likely there’s fair anchorage; but yet she may go past without so
much as sayin’ howdy, an’ we’d better try to let her skipper know that
there are some passengers here who’re mighty anxious about makin’ his
acquaintance. Come, Ben we must set fire to one or two of the trees
that the storm knocked over, an’ I reckon the smoke they make will be
as good as a telegraph message.”
In this particular case it proved fortunate that the ex-cook of the Sea
Queen was an inveterate smoker, otherwise their stock of matches might
have shared the fate of the provisions. As it was Jake had a plentiful
supply of those very useful articles, and with them a blaze was soon
kindled under three of the up-rooted trees.
By the time the smoke begun to rise it was possible to distinguish
quite clearly the approaching craft as she plunged into the hollows
of the waves sullenly, or ascended the watery slopes wearily, her
splintered spars and flying ropes giving her the appearance of some
beautiful animal wounded unto death.
The strong wind carried the smoke far away to the eastward without
allowing it to rise very high; but it made such a signal as must have
been seen by those on the coming vessel, yet no answer was given.
“Why don’t they let her go off two or three points?” Jake asked
anxiously as he watched the movements of the schooner, which was still
headed directly for the island and approaching dangerously near. “That
captain must be drunk or crazy to run such risks.”
The stranger was now such a short distance away that those on the
key could make out the form of a man at the helm, and one amidships,
consequently there could be no question but that the craft was yet
under control.
On, on came the laboring vessel, dashing the waves into foam which
was flung mast-head high, or plunging down into the abyss of waters
until it seemed as if she was going to the bottom, while the excited
watchers literally held their breaths as the course remained unchanged,
and Jake shouted and waved his hands as if he fancied the men were not
able to see the island on which the schooner must soon be flung unless
immediate steps were taken to prevent such a catastrophe.
“It looks as if they wanted to wreck her,” Ben cried, clutching Gertie
by the arm much as if he believed her to be in danger. “There is
nothing to prevent them from going clear of the island, for if she
doesn’t answer the helm that man wouldn’t be standing at the wheel.”
“I can’t make it out, lad,” Jake replied in a tone of perplexity. “If
they wanted to wreck the schooner it seems as if there were a good many
better places; but if that ain’t the scheme, I’m beat.”
Even as he spoke the doomed vessel plunged into the shore line of the
waves, rolling to and fro one instant as she half rose above them,
and then settled down upon the coral with a crash that sent the only
remaining spar tumbling over the rail like a rotten stick.
The castaways on the island stood speechless with astonishment, and
motionless as statues, during what looked like the willful destruction
of the schooner, and expecting each instant to see the men swept from
the deck by the angry sea.
In this, however, they were happily mistaken. The waves were not
running nearly as high as appeared to be the case when viewed from the
low plane of the island, and, save for an occasional sea which broke
over the stern, the vessel’s deck was free from water as if she had
been running easily before the wind.
When the first crash was heard Aunt Chloe stood speechless with fear
and bewilderment; but before either of the eager watchers could utter
a word, she cried, shaking Jake vigorously by the arm to secure his
undivided attention:
“Can you see my Mose on dat ar’ vessel what’s done gone smashed herself
up when we wanted to be took away?”
“Don’t you worry ’bout him, aunty. He’s up North I reckon, an’ he can
thank his lucky stars for bein’ there instead of on that craft which
can’t stand the poundin’ of them waves very long, ’cordin’ to my way of
thinkin’.”
Those on board did not seem at all solicitous regarding their
condition. The schooner had struck squarely on that side of the key
which ran out to a shoal, and was lying upright and steady, a fact
which soon caused Jake to change his opinion regarding what at first
appeared like willful destruction.
“I thought they were crazy, but now I reckon they’ve done a wise thing.
She was pretty nigh wrecked, an’ most likely takin’ in water so fast
that it was hard work to keep her afloat, so she’s been plumped on here
where the cargo can be saved.”
“And we’re no better off than if she hadn’t come,” Ben said sadly, for
the storm had left them so nearly destitute that he knew aid in some
form must come quickly or their situation would be desperate.
“That’s where you’re mistaken, my boy. There’s no question but that
they’ve plenty of provisions on board, an’ what’s better, is the timber
which can be got out of her. It’ll make a raft large enough to hold a
hundred, an’ her crew will most likely go at that work when the sea is
quiet enough for them to land.”
“But how can the men get ashore?” Gertie asked anxiously. “It looks as
if the vessel was a long distance from the beach.”
“By to-morrow mornin’ I reckon you’ll see ’em swim for it, or send a
line ashore to be made fast to one of the trees. We’ll keep the fire
goin’ all night, an’ if anything should happen we shall be on hand if
we’re wanted.”
The men on the stranded schooner could now be seen working as quietly
and methodically as if she had been at a dock instead of virtually
wrecked. The fallen spar was thumping heavily against the side, and
this they were cutting partially away, trying to force it inshore
rather than set it adrift entirely.
The little party on the key had almost unconsciously moved toward the
beach until they were at the very edge of the water, and as they stood
gazing earnestly at the wreck, which lay only a few hundred yards
away, one of the men leaped on the rail as he began to wave his arms
vigorously.
“He wants us to do something. Can you hear what he says?” Ben asked,
but Jake made no reply. He was staring as wildly at the figure as ever
he had at the “voodou” cat, and seemingly quite as much alarmed as
when that harmless animal first made her appearance, while the sailor
on the rail gesticulated as if carrying on an animated conversation
with the wind.
“What _is_ the matter?” Ben cried, growing somewhat alarmed because of
the cook’s singular behavior.
“Matter?” screamed Jake as, his scrutiny ended, he begun to dance about
on the beach, waving his hat frantically. “Can’t you see who that is?
Don’t any of you know an old friend when he’s in sight?”
“Is it my Mose?” Aunt Chloe asked in a trembling voice, and Gertie said
pleadingly:
“Tell us who it is. How could we know any one belonging to that vessel?”
“It’s Captain Jack Irwin, an’ he’s signalin’ to us because he knows who
we are.”
“Captain Irwin!” Ben repeated in amazement. “Why that isn’t the Sea
Queen.”
“I know it; but it’s him all the same, though how he comes to be on
that craft beats me.”
The others were quite as much surprised as the cook, but it was
impossible to solve the mystery by speculation, try as they might, and
after each one had made several very improbable guesses, Ben asked:
“Why don’t we do something toward helpin’ him ashore? Perhaps that was
what he tried to talk about when he shouted so long.”
“What can we do, lad? We’re worse off than he is, for there’s plenty
of stuff on the schooner with which to build a raft, while we’ve got
nothin’.”
“Then why doesn’t he come ashore?” Gertie asked, while old Chloe sat on
the sand as if the exertion of thinking had entirely exhausted her.
“Wait till the sea quiets down a bit, an’ then he’ll be here. The wind
is fallin’ now, the schooner lays easy, or will in a little while, an’
there’s no reason for him to hurry much. Most likely he’ll stay where
he is till mornin’, but we’ll keep the fire goin’ in case he should try
it to-night. You an’ Chloe make some more tea, while Ben an’ I drag the
trees together, an’ it won’t be long now before we’ll know the whole
story.”
The sight of the wreck had apparently caused the old negress to forget
her fears of the cat, and she displayed an unusual amount of activity
in preparing such a supper as the condition of the larder would permit.
By the time Jake and Ben had carried or dragged all the up-rooted
trees near the fire, that the work of keeping the blaze alive might
be lessened as much as possible, the shadows of night were gathering
fast and dense, and while the castaways partook of the evening meal
they looked at nothing save the dark mass in the gloom, which all knew
marked the position of the wreck.