THE CRUISE OF THE RAFT
It is time we carried the reader back to the time when Robert, after
launching his rude raft, set out from the island of his captivity.
Notwithstanding his rather critical situation, he was in excellent
spirits. The treasure which he had unearthed from the wreck very much
elated him. It meant comfort and independence for a time at least, and
in his new joy he was even ready to forgive his uncle for leaving him on
the island and Randolph for not taking him off.
“I’ve heard of things turning out for the best,” was the thought that
passed through his mind, “but I never understood it so well before.”
Robert possessed a large measure of courage and he had been used to the
sea from the age of six, or as far back as he could remember, but when
he had rounded the Island and paddled a few rods out to sea he began to
feel serious.
There was a strong wind blowing, and this had roughened the sea and made
it difficult for him to guide his extemporized raft in the direction he
desired.
Had it been his uncle’s fishing boat and had he but possessed a good
pair of stout oars, he would have experienced no particular difficulty.
He would perhaps have found it rather hard pulling, but he was unusually
strong for his age, and, in the end, he would have reached the shore.
But with a frail raft, loosely put together, and only a board to row or
paddle with, his progress was very slow.
He did make a little progress, however, but it was so little that, at
the end of fifteen minutes, he seemed as far off from the little cabin
on the cliff as ever.
“It’s hard work,” said Robert to himself. “I wish I had a boat. If it
were smooth water, I could get along with a raft, but now----”
He stopped short, as the raft was lifted on the crest of a wave, and he
nearly slid off into the water.
He looked back to the island and began to consider whether it would not
be best, after all, to paddle back and trust to being taken off the next
morning by some fisherman’s boat.
No doubt that would have been the most sensible thing to do, but Robert
was very reluctant to relinquish his project.
Had he not devoted several hours to constructing the raft he was trying
to navigate and should he allow this time to be thrown away?
Again, the prospect of passing a night upon Egg Island was not very
inviting. There was nothing to fear, of course, for the island was too
small to be infested by wild animals or even snakes. He could no doubt
sleep some, even if his bed were not very comfortable.
Robert looked back. By this time he was half a mile, at a rough guess,
from Egg Island, and between his raft and the mainland there intervened
probably two miles and a half of rough sea.
“If I can get within half a mile of shore,” thought our young hero, “I
won’t care for the raft any longer. I will plunge into the waves and
swim to the shore.”
He looked toward the shore.
There, in plain view, was the humble cabin which he called home. Inside
doubtless was his aunt, worrying perhaps about his absence.
“How delighted she will be when I tell her of the money I have found!”
thought Robert joyfully. “Come, Bob, brace up now and push out boldly
for home.”
With his eyes fixed on the cabin, our young hero used his paddle with
such energy that, in the course of half an hour or thereabouts, he was
about a mile farther on his way.
He had gone half way, and though he was somewhat fatigued, he was strong
and muscular, and the chances were that he would be able to hold out
till he reached the boat landing.
But now a new danger threatened itself.
The assaults of the sea had strained heavily the raft, which he had not
been able, for want of nails, to make strong and secure.
Robert’s heart beat with quiet alarm as he realized that there was small
chance of his frail craft holding together till he reached shore.
The danger was hardly realized before it came.
A strong wave wrenched apart the timbers, and Robert Coverdale found
himself, without warning, spilled into the sea, a mile and a half from
land.
Instinctively he struck out and began to swim, but the distance was
great and he was impeded by his clothes.
Looking neither to the right nor to the left, but only straight ahead,
he swam with all the strength there was left to him, but he found
himself weakening after a while and gave himself up for lost.