It was the boat, then, that had caused me this sudden surprise, or
rather alarm, for it speedily came to this. What, you will ask, had
happened to the boat? Had she gone to the bottom? Not that; but, what
at first appeared almost as bad for me--_she had gone away_!
When I turned my eyes in the direction I expected to see her, she was
not there! The little cove among the rocks was empty.
There was no mystery about the thing. At a glance I comprehended all,
since at a glance I saw the boat herself, drifting away outward from the
reef. No mystery at all. I had neglected to make the boat fast, had
not even taken the rope-hawser ashore; and the breeze, which I now
observed had grown fresher, catching upon the sides of the boat, had
drifted her out of the cove, and off into the open water.
My first feeling was simply surprise; but in a second or two, this gave
way to one of alarm. How was I to recover the boat? How to get her
back to the reef? If not successful in this, how then should I reach
the shore? Three miles was the shortest distance. I could not swim it
even for my life; and I had no hope that any one would come to my
rescue. It was not likely that any one upon the shore could see me, or
be aware of my situation. Even the little boat would hardly be seen,
for I was now aware of how much smaller objects would be rendered at
that great distance. The signal-staff had taught me this fact, as well
as the reef itself. Rocks that, from the shore, appeared to rise only a
foot above the surface, were actually more than a yard. The boat,
therefore, would hardly be visible, and neither I nor my perilous
situation would be noticed by any one on the shore, unless, indeed, some
one might chance to be looking through a glass; but what probability was
there of such a thing? None whatever, or the least in the world.
Reflection only increased my uneasiness; for the more I reflected the
more certain did it appear to me, that my negligence had placed me in a
perilous situation.
For a while my mind was in a state of confusion, and I could not decide
upon what course to follow. There was but little choice left me--in
fact, I saw no alternative at all--but remain upon the reef. Upon
second thoughts, however, an alternative did suggest itself, if I could
but succeed in following it. That was to swim out after the boat, and
endeavour to regain possession of her. She had not drifted so far away
but that I might reach her by swimming. A hundred yards or so she had
got from the edge of the islet, but she was still widening the distance
between us, and would soon be much farther off.
It was plain, then, that if I intended to take this course, no time was
to be lost--not a moment.
What else could I do? If I did not succeed in reaching her, I might set
myself down for a troublesome adventure, perhaps perilous too; and this
belief nerved me to the attempt.
With all the speed I could make, I stripped off my clothes and flung
them upon the rocks. My shoes and stockings followed--even my shirt was
thrown aside, lest it might encumber me, and just as if I was going in
to have a bathe and a swim, I launched myself upon the water. I had no
wading to do. The water was beyond my depth from the very edge of the
reef, and I had to swim from the first plunge. Of course, I struck out
directly for the boat, and kept on without turning to one side or the
other.
I swam as swiftly as I could, but it was a long while before I could
perceive that I was coming any nearer to the dinghy. At times, I
thought I was not gaining upon her at all, and when the thought occurred
to me that she might be going as fast as I was, it filled me with
vexation and alarm. Should I not succeed in coming up with her, then it
would be a hopeless case indeed. I should have to turn round again and
swim back to the reef, or else go to the bottom; for, as already stated,
I could no more have reached the shore by swimming than I could have
swum across the Atlantic. Though I was now a very good swimmer, and
might have done a mile on a pinch, three were far beyond my power, and I
could not have made the distance to save my life. Moreover, the boat
was not drifting in the direction of the shore, but up the bay, where
there was at least ten miles of water before me.
I was getting discouraged in this pursuit, and thought of turning back
to the reef, before I might become too exhausted to reach it, when I
noticed that the dinghy veered slightly round, and then drifted in a
direction oblique to that she had already taken. This arose from a
sudden puff of wind which blew from a new quarter. It brought the boat
nearer me, and I resolved to make one more effort to reach her.
In this, I at length succeeded; and in a few minutes more, had the
satisfaction of laying my hands upon the gunwale of the boat, which
enabled me to obtain a little rest after my long swim.
As soon as I had recovered breath, I attempted to climb in over the
side; but to my chagrin, the crank little craft sunk under my weight,
and turned bottom upwards, as if it had been a washing tub, plunging me
under water by the sudden capsize. I rose to the surface, and once more
laying my hands upon the boat, climbed up to get astride across the
keel; but in this I was also unsuccessful, for losing my balance, I drew
the boat so much to one side, that she righted again mouth upwards.
This was what I should have desired; but I perceived to my alarm that
she was nearly full of water, which she had shipped in turning over.
The weight of the water steadied her, so that I was able to draw myself
over the gunwale without further difficulty, and got safe enough inside;
but I had not been there a second, till I perceived that the boat was
_sinking_! My additional weight was the cause of this, and I saw at
once that unless I leaped out again, she would speedily go to the
bottom. Perhaps if I had preserved my presence of mind and leaped out
again, the boat might still have kept afloat. But what with my fears,
and the confusion consequent upon the various duckings I had had, my
presence of mind was gone, and I remained standing in the boat up to my
knees in the water. I thought of baling her out, but I could find no
vessel. The tin pan had disappeared, as well as the oars. The former
no doubt had sunk as the boat capsized, and the oars were floating on
the water at a great distance off.
In my despair, I commenced baling out the water with my hands; but I had
not made half-a-dozen strokes before I felt that she was going down.
The next instant she had gone, sinking directly underneath me, and
causing me to jump outwards in order to escape from being carried down
in the vortex she had made.
I cast one glance upon the spot where she had disappeared. I saw that
she was gone for ever; and heading away from the spot, I swam back in
the direction of the reef.