CHAPTER V.

“Captain Gray, have you any idea where we are?” asked Allen Thornton, on

the afternoon of the third day.

It was not the first time that the query had been on the lips of more

than one of the unfortunates, but each time they had dreaded to ask the

question, as they feared the answer.

“I can not say exactly, of course,” answered Captain Gray, “but as the

wind that has been treating us so unmercifully, was from the southeast

we have been keeping, apparently, a course, more or less, to the

northwest, and I should say we are considerably northwest of our

position when we left the ship.”

“Do we stand much chance of being picked up by some passing ship,

Captain?” asked Mabel.

“No, I’m afraid we do not,” answered the captain, “as we are rather out

of the line of ship travel. You see, the winds had been quite light for

several days before we abandoned the vessel, and what headway we made

was entirely to the westward, so that we were considerably farther west

than the usual course of vessels.”

“Then we may as well make up our minds to die first as last, is that the

way of it, Captain?” asked Allen.

“No, we will not give up yet by any means. Do you remember, Etta, the

day before we left the ship, when I was marking our position on the

chart, you asked me what all those little black dots, extending in a

curved line almost ahead of us, were?”

“Yes, papa, I do indeed, and you said they were little islands, or reefs

that had been sighted from time to time by some vessel.”

“Well, there lies our chance for safety,” said the captain. “We are now

considerably nearer them, I should judge, and we may be able to make one

of those islands.”

“How long will it take us to reach the islands, do you suppose?” asked

Mabel.

“Well, I can’t say that we will ever reach them, my dear Mabel, I can

only hope so; but even if we do, we may be no better off, as some of

them are simply coral reefs, others barren and desolate, being of recent

volcanic origin, while still others are inhabited by the fiercest tribes

of cannibals. They are, for the most part, unexplored, as they are in

latitudes where storms from the south, such as we have passed through,

are of frequent occurrence, and the quantity of reefs make the approach

to them a matter of great peril.”

“Well, Mabel, we will keep up stout hearts and hope for the best, won’t

we?” said Allen.

Etta had sat listening to all her father had said, saying but little

until now, but as Carrie, whose head was resting in Etta’s lap, moved

restlessly and moaned, “Water, give me some water.”

It seemed that Etta could stand it no longer and she cried, “Oh, papa,

we must get there right away. Can’t something be done to help us on?

Carrie can not endure this horrible heat much longer, without shelter,

and the water is all gone.”

“All gone?” the words seemed to be fairly shrieked by the horrified

group, for they knew that under this burning sky they could none of them

exist long without water.

Her father was the first to ask where the supply had gone, that an hour

before he had thought sufficient, at the rate they were using it, for at

least two days, and now it was all gone. “Who used it,” Captain Gray

asked sternly?

“I did,” said Etta, “don’t blame me, papa, I could not help it, I have

given it to Carrie. I could not endure it any longer to see her

suffering so. I had to give it to her.”

Captain Gray bowed his head in his hands for a moment, then taking

Etta’s hand in his, asked in a broken voice, “Do you know what you have

done my child? You have doomed us all to a horrible death.”

“Don’t papa, don’t. I could not bear to see her die, calling for water

when there was still a little that she might have.”

“But what can we do for her now, the water is all gone, and her fever

higher than ever. My God! Must I see my loved ones die, and be powerless

to help them. My wife torn from me by the relentless waves, and now, my

darling daughter dying before my eyes. Would to God I could die; but, to

live on bereft of those dearest to me, I shudder at the thought.”

The morning of the fourth day broke, hot, oh, so hot. The air was like a

breath from a furnace, scorching, and parching the occupants of the

boat. Carrie was raving wildly, and calling constantly for water, but

not even a drop was to be had. Her agonized father, and sister could do

nothing for her, and death came to release her from her horrible

sufferings about one o’clock, as near as they could judge, as the

watches of both the captain and Allen had stopped during the storm and

they had set them by guess.

Knowing that they could not keep the body of Carrie any length of time,

and fully realizing the fact that they were all fast losing strength,

Allen Thornton, assisted by two of the sailors, committed the remains to

the sea. It was horrible to think of doing so, as sharks had been

following the boat for some time past, and, here and there the shining

dorsal fin of a sluggish, slow moving monster of the deep could be seen

glistening in the sunlight. Etta was spared the torture of seeing her

loved sister’s body given up to such a fate, owing to the fact that she

was utterly unconscious of all that passed, and sat in the bottom of the

boat with a vacant stare in her eyes. Both she and Mabel had now almost

succumbed to the heat, and their terrible thirst. One of the sailors was

raving wildly and throwing his arms above his head with heart-rending

shrieks, as the body of Carrie struck the water with a slight splash,

the sound seemed to madden him still more, for he gave one wild cry and

threw himself over the side of the boat.

The sky which had been so clear at the beginning of the day, had

gradually become overcast with clouds. At about three o’clock a few

drops of rain fell with a soft plash into the boat. It soon increased to

a hard shower. Captain Gray, Allen and the sailors quickly unlashed the

barrel containing the sea biscuit, which they emptied into the bottom of

the boat and set the barrel to catch the rain. They soon had caught

enough to give each of the girls a refreshing draught, moistening their

own parched throats as well. The rain continued to fall for some time,

enabling them to catch several quarts of water.

For three days more they drifted on, with no signs of land, or even a

friendly sail in sight, but about noon of the eighth day one of the

sailors cried: “Land! Land!” “Captain, isn’t that land ahead?”

“I have seen that line against the sky for some time,” answered Captain

Gray, “and I think you are right in saying it is land, yet it may be

only a coral reef.”

What remnant of sail they had left was soon put up, and fortunately what

breeze there was, was setting directly toward the island, if island it

really was.

“Can’t we do something to make sure of reaching it, papa, if it is

land?” asked Etta, who had now entirely revived.

“No my child, we must trust to luck to take us there. We are almost

helpless. But there seems to be a current setting in towards shore,

which, if nothing, such as adverse winds, happens to change our course,

I think that sometime to-morrow we shall reach the island or reef,

whichever it is.”

“Are we not in danger of running on some hidden reef?” said Allen.

“Yes, we do run some risk of that, but we must do the best we can.”

As night came on, the weary wanderers over the face of the waters,

composed themselves to rest with a feeling of almost security, so nearly

ended seemed their trials of the past week. The three sailors, Allen and

the captain went on watch by turns throughout the night. By the early

morning light how anxiously all the party scanned the shore, which could

now be seen quite plainly. The waves gently lifted the boat and each

moment seemed to carry it onward, in a manner that was meant to

compensate for the roughness with which the waves had handled the

staunch little craft a few days before.

“I think,” said Captain Gray, “that we are inside of a large reef and

that fact accounts for the calmness of the sea.”

“We are lucky that the wind keeps favorable,” said Allen. “What in the

world should we do if the wind should go down?”

“Well, Allen,” answered Mabel, “we must trust in providence. God has so

far brought us out of our perils, and we should not now, doubt His

goodness, or power to protect us.”

“I know Mabel, yet I cannot help feeling as if, were we again to be

driven out to sea, it would be harder to bear than our trials of the

last week have been.”

“But see, Allen,” broke in Etta, “we can actually see the shore and what

is on it.”

“You mean, what is not on it, don’t you?” said Allen. “I don’t see

anything but a mass of reddish brown rock.”

“I must say it is not a very promising looking shore” answered Etta,

“but I shall be thankful to reach it, no matter what there is on it. I

have such a horror of this boat, from which my mother and sister have

been snatched by death.”

Nearer, and nearer they came to the shore. At last a grating sound under

the keel, was heard. They had gone as far as possible. One of the

sailors sprang out, and found the water quite shallow, and waded ashore.

He soon came back, and, with the help of the other sailors, carried

ashore what was left of the provisions. Going on shore a second time

they found that if they could move the boat from its present position,

they might get it into deeper water, and by pushing it along with a pole

bring them a sort of little cove.

“But where are we to get the poles from?” asked Allen.

“We will take the remains of the mast. That will do,” said Captain Gray.

Suiting the action to the word, and getting the boat free once more,

they began to push her slowly up the little inlet. At last she was

snugly alongside the shore, and once more all the party felt the firm

earth under their feet. A feeling of thankfulness filled every heart.

The God of Civilization: A Romance · 第 4 / 22 章