I succeeded in reaching the reef, but not without a tough struggle. As
I breasted the water, I felt that there was a current against me--the
tide; and this it was, as well as the breeze, that had been drifting the
boat away. But I got back to the reef, and there was not a foot to
spare. The stroke that brought me up to the edge of the rocks, would
have been my last, had no rocks been there; for it would have been the
last I could give, so much was I exhausted. Fortunately, my strength
had proved equal to the effort; but that was now quite gone, and I lay
for some minutes upon the edge of the reef, at the spot where I had
crawled out, waiting to recover my breath.
I did not maintain this inactive attitude longer than was necessary.
This was not a situation in which to trifle with time; and knowing this,
I got to my feet again to see if anything could be done.
Strange enough, I cast my eyes in the direction whence I had just come
from the boat. It was rather a mechanical glance, and I scarce know why
I should have looked in that particular direction. Perhaps I had some
faint hope that the sunken craft might rise to the surface; and I
believe some such fancy actually did present itself. I was not
permitted to indulge in it, for there was no boat to be seen, nor
anything like one. I saw the oars floating far out, but only the oars;
and for all the service they could do me, they might as well have gone
to the bottom, along with the boat.
I next turned my eyes toward the shore; but nothing was to be seen in
that direction, but the low-lying land upon which the village was
situated. I could not see any people on shore--in fact, I could hardly
distinguish the houses; for, as if to add to the gloom and peril that
surrounded me, the sky had become overcast, and along with the clouds a
fresh breeze had sprung up.
This was raising the water into waves of considerable height, and these
interfered with my view of the beach. Even in bright weather, the
distance itself would have hindered me from distinguishing human forms
on the shore; for from the reef to the nearest suburb of the village, it
was more than three statute miles.
Of course, it would have been of no avail to have cried out for
assistance. Even on the calmest day I could not have been heard, and
fully understanding this, I held my peace.
There was nothing in sight--neither ship, nor sloop, nor schooner, nor
brig--not a boat upon the bay. It was Sunday, and vessels had kept in
port. Fishing boats for the same reason were not abroad, and such
pleasure boats as belonged to our village had all gone in their usual
direction, down the bay, to a celebrated lighthouse there--most likely
the boat of Harry Blew among the rest.
There was no sail in sight, either to the north, the south, the east, or
the west. The bay appeared deserted, and I felt as much alone as if I
had been shut up in my coffin.
I remembered instinctively the dread feeling of loneliness that came
over me. I remember that I sank down upon the rocks and wept.
To add to my agony of mind, the sea-birds, probably angry at me for
having driven them away from their resting-place and feeding ground, now
returned; and hovering over my head in a large flock, screamed in my
ears as if they intended to deafen me. At times one or another of them
would swoop almost within reach of my hands; and uttering their wild
cries, shoot off again, to return next moment with like hideous screams.
I began to be afraid that these wild birds might attack me, though I
suppose, in their demonstrations they were merely actuated by some
instinct of curiosity.
After considering every point that presented itself to my mind, I could
think of no plan to pursue, other than to sit down (or stand up, if I
liked it better), and wait till some succour should arrive. There was
no other course left. Plainly, I could not get away from the islet of
myself, and therefore I must needs stay till some one came to fetch me.
But when would that be? It would be the merest chance if any one on
shore should turn their eyes in the direction of the reef; and even if
they did, they would not recognise my presence there without the aid of
a glass. One or two of the watermen had telescopes--this I knew--and
Harry Blew had one; but it was not every day that the men used these
instruments, and ten chances to one against their pointing them to the
reef. What would they be looking for in that direction? No boats ever
came or went that way, and vessels passing down or up the bay always
gave the shoal a wide berth. My chances, therefore, of being seen from
the shore, either with the naked eye or through a glass, were slender
enough. But still more slender were the hopes I indulged that some boat
or other craft might pass near enough for me to hail it. It was very
unlikely, indeed, that any one would be coming in that direction.
It was with very disconsolate feelings, then, that I sat down upon the
rock to await the result.
That I should have to remain there till I should be starved I did not
anticipate. The prospect did not appear to me so bad as that, and yet
such might have been the case, but for one circumstance, which I felt
confident would arise to prevent it. This was, that Harry Blew would
_miss the dinghy and make search for me_.
He might not, indeed, miss her before nightfall, because he might not
return with his boating party before that time. As soon as night came,
however, he would be certain to get home; and then, finding the little
boat away from her moorings, he would naturally suspect that I had taken
her, for I was the only boy in the village, or man either, who was
allowed this privilege. The boat being absent, then, and not even
returning at night, Blew would most likely proceed to my uncle's house;
and then the alarm at my unusual absence would lead to a search for me;
which I supposed would soon guide them to my actual whereabouts.
Indeed, I was far less troubled about the danger I was in than about the
damage I had done. How could I ever face my friend Blew again? how make
up for the loss of his boat? This was a serious consideration. I had
no money of my own, and would my uncle pay it for me? I feared not; and
yet some one must remunerate the young waterman for the considerable
loss I had occasioned him. But who was to do it, or how was it to be
done? If my uncle would only allow me to work for Harry, thought I, I
might make it up to him in that way. I would be willing to work at so
much a week, till the boat was paid for; if he could only find something
for me to do.
I was actually making calculations as to how I should make good the
loss, and regarding that as my chief trouble at the moment. It had not
yet occurred to me _that my life was in danger_. True, I anticipated a
hungry night of it, and a bitter cold one too. I should be wet through
and through, for I knew that when the tide returned, it would cover the
stones of the reef, and I should have to stand all night in the water.
By the way, how deep would it be? Up to my knees?
I looked around to discover some means of judging how high the water was
wont to rise. I knew that the rocks would be all covered, for I had
often seen them so; but I had been all my life under the impression, and
so were people who lived on the shore, that the water rose only a few
inches above the reef.
At first, I could observe nothing that would guide me as to the height,
but at length my eye fell upon the signal-staff, and ran up and down its
shaft. There was a water-line sure enough, and there was even a circle
of white paint round the post, no doubt intended to mark it; but judge
my surprise, my absolute terror, when I perceived that this line was at
least _six feet above the base of the staff_!
Half distracted, I ran up to the pole. I placed myself by its side and
looked up. Alas! my eye had measured but too correctly. The line was
far above my head. I could hardly touch it with the tips of my fingers!
A thrill of horror ran through my veins, as I contemplated the result of
this discovery. The danger was too clearly defined. Before rescue
could reach me, the tide would be in. I should be overwhelmed--swept
from the reef--drowned in the waste of waters!