To say that I awaited the result with confidence would not be at all
true. Quite the contrary. Fear and trembling were far more the
characteristics of my mind in that hour. Had I been allowed more time
to build my cairn--time to have made it high enough to overtop the
waves, and firm enough to resist them, I should have felt less
apprehension. I had no fear that the signal-staff would give way. It
had been well proved, for there had it stood defying the storm as long
as I could remember. It was my newly-raised cairn that I dreaded, both
its height and its durability. As to the former, I had succeeded in
raising it five feet high, just within one foot of high-water mark.
This would leave me to stand a foot deep in water, nor did I regard that
in the light of a hardship. It was not on this account I had such
uncomfortable imaginings. It was altogether a different thought that
was vexing me. It was the doubt I entertained of the _faithfulness_ of
this watermark. I knew that the white line indicated the height of the
full tide under ordinary circumstances, and that when the sea was calm,
the surface would coincide with the mark; but only when it was dead
calm. Now it was not calm at that moment. There was enough of breeze
to have raised the waves at least a foot in height--perhaps two feet.
If so, then two-thirds, or even three-fourths, of my body would be under
water--to say nothing of the spray which would be certain to drive
around me. This, however, was still far less than I had to fear.
Supposing that the breeze should continue to freshen--supposing a storm
should come on--nay, even an ordinary gale--then, indeed, the slight
elevation which I had obtained above the surface would be of no avail;
for during storms I had often observed the white spray lashing over that
very reef, and rising many feet above the head of the signal-staff.
"Oh! if a storm should arise, then am I lost indeed!"
Every now and then was I pained with such an apprehension.
True, the probabilities were in my favour. It was the fair month of
May, and the morning of that day one of the finest I had ever seen. In
any other month, a storm would have been more regular; but there are
storms even in May, and weather that on shore may seem smiling and
bright, is, for all that, windy and gusty upon the bosom of the broad
sea, and causes destruction to many a fine ship. Moreover, it did not
need to be a hurricane; far less than an ordinary gale would be
sufficient to overwhelm me, or sweep me from the precarious footing upon
which I stood.
Another apprehension troubled me: my cairn was far too loosely put
together. I had not attempted to make any building of the thing; there
was not time for that. The stones had been hurled or huddled on top of
one another, just as they dropped out of my hands; and as I set my feet
upon them I felt they were far from firm. What if they should not prove
enough so to resist the current of the returning tide, or the lashing of
the waves? Should they not, then indeed I had laboured in vain. Should
they fall, I must fall with them, never again to rise!
No wonder that this added another to the many doubts I had to endure;
and as I thought upon such a mischance occurring, I again looked eagerly
outward, and ran my eyes in every direction over the surface of the bay,
only, as on every other occasion, to meet with sad disappointment.
For a long time I remained in the exact position I had first assumed--
that is with my arm thrown round the signal-staff, and hugging it as if
it were a dear friend. True, it was the only friend I had then; but for
it an attempt to have built the cairn would have been vain. Even could
I have raised it to the full height, it is neither likely that it would
have stood the water or that I could have held my position upon it.
Without the staff to hold on to, I could not have balanced my body on
its top.
This position, then, I kept, almost without moving a muscle of my body.
I dreaded even to change my feet from one stone to another lest the
movement might shake the pile and cause it to tumble down, and I knew
that if once down, there would be no chance to build it up again. The
time was past for that. The water all around the base of the staff was
now beyond my depth. I could not have moved a step without swimming.
I passed most of the time in gazing over the water; though I did not
move my body, I kept constantly turning my neck. Now looking before,
then behind, then to both sides, and the next moment repeating these
observations, until I had scanned the surface for the fiftieth time,
without sight of boat or ship to reward me. At intervals I watched the
returning tide, and the huge waves as they rolled towards me over the
reef, coming home from their far wanderings. They appeared angry, and
growled at me as they passed, as if to chide and scold me for being
there. What was I, weak mortal, doing in this their own peculiar home--
this ground that was the chosen spot for their wild play? I even
fancied that they talked to me. I grew dizzy as I watched them, and
felt as if I should swoon away and melt into their dark flood.
I saw them rising higher and higher, until they swept over the top of my
cairn, and covered my feet resting on it; higher still and yet higher,
till I felt them lipping against my knees. O! when will they stay?
When will they cease to come on?
Not yet--not yet--higher! higher! till I stand up to the waist in the
briny flood, and even above that the spray washes around me--against my
face--over my shoulders--into my mouth, and eyes, and ears--
half-stifling me, half-drowning me! O merciful Father!
The water had reached its height, and I was almost overwhelmed by it;
but with desperate tenacity of life I held out, closely clinging to the
signal-shaft. For a very long time I held on, and, had no change
occurred, I might have been able to keep my place till the morning; but
a change was near, and one that placed me in greater peril than ever.
Night came on; and, as if this had been a signal for my destruction, the
wind increased almost to a gale. The clouds had been scowling
throughout the twilight, as if threatening rain, which now fell in
torrents--the wind, as it were, bringing the rain along with it. I
perceived that the waves were every moment rising higher, and one or two
large ones now swept almost over me. So great was their strength that I
was scarcely able to resist it, and came very near being swept away.
I was now full of fear. I saw that should the breakers grow larger, I
could not hold out against them, but must succumb. Even as they were,
it was doubtful whether my strength would hold out.
The last great wave that struck me had somewhat altered my foothold upon
the stones, and it was necessary for me to recover it, or fix myself
still better. For this purpose I raised my body a little by my arms,
and was feeling about with my foot for the most elevated point of my
battery, when another huge wave came rushing along, and whipping both my
feet off the stones, carried them out from the shaft. I held on with
both arms, and for some moments hung almost horizontally upon the water,
until the wave had passed. Then permitting my feet to drop down, I felt
once more for the support of the cairn. I touched the stones, but only
touched them. As soon as a pound of my weight rested upon them, I felt
the cairn crumbling beneath my feet, as if it had melted suddenly away;
and, no longer able to sustain myself, I glided down the staff, and sank
after the scattered pile to the bottom of the sea!