BOB ON AN ISLAND
"Keep together, men!" called the captain, as they pulled away. "We
don't want to lose one another."
"Which way shall we pull, sir?" asked the first mate.
"I'll tell you presently. I'll look at my charts and see if I
can't locate an island somewhere here-abouts. Keep up your
courage. Luckily this didn't happen down in the Straits. At least
we have warm weather here."
For the first time Bob noticed that it was very warm. It had been
so, of course, for several days preceding the wreck, but the
thought that they were in a tropical climate had been forgotten in
the excitement of the foundering of the ship. Now it was a thing
for which to be thankful.
"Oh! Isn't this the most terrible thing that could occur!"
exclaimed Mr. Tarbill, from a seat where he was huddled up. "It is
awful!"
"It's not half so awful as if we were drowned and in Davy Jones's
locker," remarked the captain. "I've lost my ship and the cargo,
but, fortunately, both were insured. We are lucky to have had time
to get off in the boats, well provisioned as they are. As soon as
this wind goes down a bit we'll hoist the small sails and head for
the nearest land."
The captain was soon busy over his charts. He made some
calculations and announced his belief that there was a group of
islands about a hundred miles off. He could not be sure, for while
they showed on the chart, he could not exactly determine the
position of the ship when she struck, as no observation had been
taken since the previous noon, and the rate of sailing under the
force of the gale was mere guesswork.
So the men rowed on. The _Eagle_ was now a mere blot on the
surface of the ocean--a speck of blackness amid a swirl of foam,
caused by the waves breaking over the ship and the reef. The wind
continued too high to risk raising the sail with which each boat
was provided, and it was slow progress with the oars.
The day was one of terror, for many times waves would break over
the small craft, forcing the men to bail for their lives. Only
cold provisions could be eaten, but in spite of this the little
band of shipwrecked men maintained a cheerful demeanor. As for Bob
he did not deny that he was frightened. He thought with sorrow of
his father and mother and wondered if he would ever see them again.
He and the others had removed their life-preservers, as they did
not need them in the gig.
"That was a plucky thing you did, saving that boat from going down
stern first," complimented the captain, a little later that day
when they were talking over the events of the wreck. "You showed
good judgment, Bob."
"Oh, I guess anybody would have done the same."
"No, they wouldn't. You deserve great credit. Bravery in the face
of danger is bravery indeed. Your father and mother can be proud
of you."
There came to Bob's mind a memory of certain times when these words
of the captain would not have been true. He resolved, if his life
was spared, to be a more manly boy in the future--to live up to the
captain's new estimate of him.
Wearily the men labored at the oars. It was hard work to keep the
boats' heads to the waves, which, to those in the small craft,
looked like great green mountains of water. Now the boats would be
down in a vast hollow, with towering walls on either side. Then
the stanch craft would be lifted up and, poising on the crests,
would slide down a watery hill with a sickening feeling, present at
least in the hearts of Bob and Mr. Tarbill, that they were going
straight for the bottom. The nervous passenger sat huddled up in a
heap, scarcely speaking.
The wind seemed to increase as night drew on. The motion of the
captain's gig was such that he could not take an observation, and,
when the blackness settled down, they had no idea where they were,
nor in which direction the nearest land lay.
"I'm afraid we'll be separated in the darkness," said the captain,
"but there is no help for it."
The day of terror was succeeded by a night of peril. The sea and
wind seemed combining to wreck the small boats. The one commanded
by Mr. Carr managed to remain within hailing distance of the
captain's gig, but the other seemed to have disappeared. A
feeling of gloom settled down over the castaways.
It must have been about the middle of the night that Bob, working
his way aft to get a drink of water from one of the casks, stumbled
over part of the sail that was folded in the bottom of the gig. He
put out his hands, instinctively, to save himself, but, as there
was nothing to cling to, he only grasped the air.
Then, with a cry of terror which he could not suppress, he plunged
overboard and was soon struggling in the water.
He went down, but, being a good swimmer, he at once began to strike
out, and as he got his head above the surface and shook the water
from his ears, he heard one of the sailors cry:
"Bob's overboard!"
"Bob! Bob! Where are you?" shouted the captain. "Here's a
life-preserver!"
The boy heard a splash in the water near him and struck out for it.
"Back water!" he heard the captain cry.
"Aye, aye, sir!" replied the sailors heartily.
At the same time the captain shouted to Mr. Carr's boat word of
what had happened. Bob was weighted down by his wet clothes and he
felt he could not long keep up, but he was swimming strongly,
hoping every moment one of the boats would pick him up.
"Here I am!" he shouted, but his voice did not carry far above the
wind. He began to have a hopeless feeling, as if he was doomed to
drown there all alone on the vast ocean. A nameless terror seized
him. Then, to his joy, his fingers touched something. It was the
floating cork life-preserver, and he knew he could keep himself up
with it for a long time.
Once more he shouted, but there came no answering hail.
"Have they rowed away and left me?" thought the boy.
He held this idea but for an instant. Then he guessed the truth of
what had happened. The boats had been swept on by wind and wave,
and, in the darkness, it was impossible to see so small an object
as the boy's head in the water.
The sailors in the two boats rowed about, frantically urged on by
Captain Spark.
"His mother will never forgive me!" he whispered to himself. "I'd
rather have lost a dozen ships than have Bob drown!"
But, though they rowed about the spot where he had disappeared,
neither the captain nor Mr. Carr nor any of the sailors could find
a trace of the boy.
"We'll stand by until morning," decided the commander, and they
began their weary vigil.
Meanwhile Bob was swimming right away from the boats, for he could
not get the right direction in the darkness. He managed to fasten
the life-preserver to him, and with the buoyancy of the cork to aid
him he swam easily, though he did not make very fast progress.
After the first shock of terror was over Bob became calm. He had a
momentary fear of sharks, but he resolved not to think about these
monsters or the sea, as it sent a cold chill over him and he found
he could not swim so well.
"I'll just paddle on until morning," he decided, "and by that time
maybe the men in the boats will pick me up."
So, through the remainder of the night, he swam leisurely. In
spite of the storm it was very warm and the water felt pleasant.
If he had only had an idea of where he was, Bob would not have
minded his position so very much.
It was just getting light when, happening to let his legs down for
an instant to rest them, he felt his feet touch something. At
first he had an unreasoning terror that it might be a big fish--a
whale or a shark--that had come up under him. Then he felt
whatever it was under his feet to be firm and hard. A dim shape
loomed up before him.
"It's land!" exclaimed Bob. "I've struck land! It must be one of
those islands the captain told about and that is the sandy beach my
feet are touching."
He swam on a little further, and again let down his feet. To his
delight he could stand upright, the water coming to his chest.
Then, as it grew lighter, he could make out a low, sandy shore
lying stretched out before him.
"Land! Land!" exclaimed the boy. "I'm on land! But where are the
others?"