My belief now was, that my life was in peril--nay, rather, that death
was almost certain. My hopes of being rescued on that day were but
slight from the first, but now they were slighter than ever. The tide
would be back long before night. In a few hours it would be at its
flood, and that would be the end. Should people go in search of me
before night--which, for reasons already given, was not at all likely--
they would be too late. The tide would not wait either for them or for
me.
The mixed feeling of horror and despair that came over me, held me for a
long time as if paralysed. I could not give consideration to anything,
nor did I notice for some time what was going on around me. I only
gazed upon the blank surface of the sea, at intervals turning from one
side to the other, and helplessly regarding the waves. There was
neither sail nor boat in sight; nothing to relieve the dreary monotony,
but here and there the white wings of the gulls, flapping about at their
leisure. They no longer continued to annoy me with their screaming,
though, now and then, an odd one would return and fly very near; as if
wondering what I was doing in such a place, and whether I did not mean
to go away from it.
From this state of gloomy despair I was aroused by a gleam of hope. My
eyes had fallen upon the signal-staff, the sight of which had so lately
caused me a feeling of the opposite kind; and then the thought rushed
into my mind that by means of this I might save myself.
I need hardly say that my design was to climb to its top, and there
remain till the tide should go down again. One half the post, I knew,
was above watermark, even at high tide; and on its top I should find
safety.
It was only a question of climbing up the staff; but that seemed easy
enough. I was a good tree climber, and surely I could accomplish this.
The discovery of this place of refuge filled me with renewed hopes.
Nothing could be easier than to get up; I might have a hard night of it,
staying up there, but there could be no danger. The peril was past: I
should yet live to laugh at it.
Buoyed up with this belief, I once more approached the staff, with the
intention of climbing up. I did not intend going up to remain. I
thought it would be time enough when my footing failed me below; it was
only to make sure that I should be able to climb the pole when the hour
of necessity arrived.
I found it more difficult than I had anticipated, especially in getting
up the first six feet. This portion of the staff was coated over with
some slimy substance--the same that covered the rocks around--and this
rendered it as slippery as one of the greased poles that I had seen at
merry-makings in our village.
It cost me several attempts and failures before I could get above the
watermark; but the rest was more easy, and I soon reached the top of the
staff.
I stretched my hand upward to seize hold of the barrel, and draw myself
up upon it, congratulating myself that I had been able to accomplish my
object, when a change came suddenly over my feelings, and I was once
more plunged into despair.
My arm was too short to reach the upper rim of the cask. I could only
touch the swell, scarce half-way up. I could get no hold upon it,
either to stay me where I was, or to pull myself up farther.
I could not remain where I was. In a few seconds my strength gave way,
and I was forced to slide down to the base of the staff.
I tried again, with no better success; and then again, with a similar
result. It was to no purpose. Stretch my arms as I would, and wriggle
my limbs as I might, I could not get my body higher than the point where
the staff was set, and could only extend my hand half-way up the rounded
swell of the cask. Of course I could not keep there, as there was
nothing to rest my weight upon, and I was forced to glide back to the
ground.
It was with a feeling of renewed alarm, then, that I made this
discovery, but I did not as before yield myself up to despair. Perhaps
my wits were quickened by the peril that was fast approaching me. At
all events, I kept my senses about me, and set to considering what was
best to be done.
If I had only been in possession of a knife, I might have cut notches in
the pole high up, and on these rested my feet; but I had no knife--
nothing to make notches with--unless I had eaten them out with my teeth.
Verily I was in a difficult dilemma.
All at once, however, a bright thought came to my relief. Why might I
not raise a resting-place from below? Why not make a platform by
building stones around the post, until they had reached above watermark,
and then stand upon these? The very thing itself. A few stones, I had
noticed already, were piled around the base, no doubt placed there to
make the staff more firm. It would only be to bring up more stones,
build them into a _cairn_, and then get on the top of them!
Delighted with this new project of safety, I lost not a moment in
setting about carrying it into effect. There were plenty of loose
boulders lying over the reef, and I supposed that in a few minutes I
could heap up enough of them to serve the purpose; but I had not worked
long before I perceived that the job would occupy me longer than I had
anticipated. The stones were slippery, and this hindered me greatly in
carrying them--some were too heavy for me, and others that I had
supposed to be loose, I found to be half buried in sand, and held so
fast that I could not draw them out.
Notwithstanding these impediments, I worked on with all the strength and
energy I could command. I knew that in time I could raise the cairn as
high as required, but time had now become the all-engrossing subject of
my thoughts.
The tide had long since turned; it was rising; slowly and continuously
it was lipping nearer and nearer--slowly but with certainty was it
coming; and I perceived all this!
I had many a fall, as I scrambled to and fro; and my knees were bleeding
from contact with the hard stones; but these were not matters to grieve
about, nor was it a time to give way to hardships, however painful to
endure. A far greater hardship threatened--the loss of life itself--and
I needed no urging to make me persevere with my work.
I had raised the pile up to the height of my head before the tide had
yet risen over the rocks, but I knew that this would not be high enough.
Two feet more was wanted to bring the top of my cairn on a level with
high-water mark; and to accomplish this I slaved away without thinking
of a moment's rest. The work as it went on became more difficult. The
loose stones that lay near had all been used, and I was obliged to go
far out on the reef to procure others. This led to a great many severe
falls, in which both my hands and knees were badly bruised; besides, it
prevented me from making rapid progress. There was another cause that
delayed me. At the height of four feet the pile was on a level with the
crown of my head, and it was with difficulty I could place the stones
higher up. Each one occupied me for minutes, and sometimes a heavy
boulder which I had succeeded in getting up, would roll back again,
endangering my limbs in its fall.
In fine, after labouring for a long time--two hours, or more--my work
was brought to a termination. Not that it was done--far from it.
Unfortunately, it was not terminated, but _interrupted_. What
interrupted it I need hardly tell you, as you will guess that it was the
_tide_. Yes, it was the tide, which, as soon as it had fairly begun to
cover the stones, seemed to rush over them all at once. It did not
recoil, as I have often seen it do upon the beach. There it flows in
gradually, wave after wave; but upon the reef--the surface of which was
nearly of equal height--the water, at the first rush, swept all over the
rocks, and was soon of a considerable depth.
I did not leave off my exertions until long after the rocks were
covered. I worked until I was knee deep in water, bending down to the
surface, almost diving under it, detaching great stones from their bed,
and carrying them in my arms towards the pile. I toiled away, with the
spray spitting in my face, and sometimes great sheets of it breaking
over my body, until I feared it would drown me--toiled on till the water
grew so deep and the sea so strong, that I could not longer keep my
footing upon the rocks; and then, half-wading, half-swimming, I brought
my last stone to the heap, and hoisted it up. Climbing after, I stood
upon the highest point of the battery I had erected, with my right arm
closely hugging the shaft of the signal. In this attitude, and with
trembling heart, I watched the inflow of the tide.