It was broad day when I awoke, and found myself tossing at the
south-west end of Treasure Island. I was scarcely a quarter of a mile to
seaward, and it was my first thought to paddle in and land. But that
notion was soon given over. Among the fallen rocks the breakers spouted
and bellowed; loud reverberations, heavy sprays flying and falling,
succeeded one another from second to second; and I saw myself, if I
ventured nearer, dashed to death upon the rough shore, or spending my
strength in vain to scale the beetling crags.
[Illustration: R. L. STEVENSON]
Nor was that all; for crawling together on flat tables of rock, or
letting themselves drop into the sea with loud reports, I beheld huge
slimy monsters,--soft snails, as it were, of incredible bigness,--two or
three score of them together, making the rocks to echo with their
barkings. I have understood since that they were sea-lions, and entirely
harmless. But the look of them, added to the difficulty of the shore and
the high running of the surf, was more than enough to disgust me with
that landing-place. I felt willing rather to starve at sea than to
confront such perils.
There was a great, smooth swell upon the sea. The wind blowing steady
and gentle from the south, there was no contrariety between that and the
current, and the billows rose and fell unbroken. Had it been otherwise,
I must long ago have perished; but as it was, it is surprising how
easily and securely my little and light boat could ride. Often, as I
still lay at the bottom, and kept no more than an eye above the gunwale,
I would see a big blue summit heaving close above me; yet the coracle
would but bounce a little, dance as if on springs, and subside on the
other side into the trough as lightly as a bird.
I began after a little to grow very bold, and sat up to try my skill at
paddling. But even a small change in the disposition of the weight will
produce violent changes in the behavior of a coracle. And I had hardly
moved before the boat, giving up at once her gentle dancing movement,
ran straight down a slope of water so steep that it made me giddy, and
stuck her nose, with a spout of spray, deep into the side of the next
wave.
I was drenched and terrified, and fell instantly back into my old
position, whereupon the coracle seemed to find her head again, and led
me as softly as before among the billows. It was plain she was not to be
interfered with, and at that rate, since I could in no way influence her
course, what hope had I left of reaching land?
I began to be horribly frightened, but I kept my head, for all that.
First, moving with all care, I gradually bailed out the coracle with my
sea-cap; then getting my eye once more above the gunwale, I set myself
to study how it was she managed to slip so quietly through the rollers.
I found each wave, instead of the big, smooth, glossy mountain it looks
from the shore, or from a vessel’s deck, was for all the world like any
range of hills on the dry land, full of peaks and smooth places and
valleys. The coracle, left to herself, turning from side to side,
threaded, so to speak, her way through these lower parts, and avoided
the steep slopes and higher toppling summits of the wave.
“Well, now,” thought I to myself, “it is plain I must lie where I am,
and not disturb the balance; but it is plain, also, that I can put the
paddle over the side, and from time to time, in smooth places, give her
a shove or two towards land.”
No sooner thought upon than done. There I lay on my elbows, in the most
trying attitude, and every now and again gave a weak stroke or two to
turn her head to shore. It was very tiring, and slow work, yet I did
visibly gain ground; and, as we drew near the Cape of the Woods, though
I saw I must infallibly miss that point, I had still made some hundred
yards of easting. I was, indeed, close in. I could see the cool, green
tree-tops swaying together in the breeze, and I felt sure I should make
the next promontory without fail.
It was high time, for I now began to be tortured with thirst. The glow
of the sun from above, its thousand-fold reflection from the waves, the
sea-water that fell and dried upon me, caking my very lips with salt,
combined to make my throat burn and my brain ache. The sight of the
trees so near at hand had almost made me sick with longing; but the
current had soon carried me past the point; and, as the next reach of
sea opened out, I beheld a sight that changed the nature of my thoughts.
Right in front of me, not half a mile away, I beheld the _Hispaniola_
under sail. I made sure, of course, that I should be taken; but I was so
distressed for want of water that I scarce knew whether to be glad or
sorry at the thought; and, long before I had come to a conclusion,
surprise had taken entire possession of my mind, and I could do nothing
but stare and wonder.
The _Hispaniola_ was under her mainsail and two jibs, and the beautiful
white canvas shone in the sun like snow or silver. When I first sighted
her, all her sails were drawing, she was lying a course about
north-west, and I presumed the men on board were going round the island
on their way back to the anchorage. Presently she began to fetch more
and more to the westward, so that I thought they had sighted me and were
going about in chase. At last, however, she fell right into the wind’s
eye, was taken dead aback, and stood there awhile helpless, with her
sails shivering.
Meanwhile, the schooner gradually fell off, and filled again upon
another tack, sailed swiftly for a minute or so, and brought up once
more dead in the wind’s eye. Again and again was this repeated. To and
fro, up and down, north, south, east, and west, the _Hispaniola_ sailed
by swoops and dashes, and at each repetition ended as she had begun,
with rapidly flapping canvas. It became plain to me that nobody was
steering. And, if so, where were the men?
Either they were drunk, or had deserted her, I thought, and perhaps, if
I could get on board, I might return the vessel to her captain.
The current was bearing coracle and schooner southwards at an equal
rate. As for the latter’s sailing, it was so wild and intermittent, and
she hung each time so long in irons, that she certainly gained nothing,
if she did not even lose. If only I dared to sit up and paddle, I made
sure that I could overhaul her. The scheme had an air of adventure that
inspired me, and the thought of the water-breaker beside the
fore-companion doubled my growing courage.
Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by another cloud of spray, but
this time stuck to my purpose; and set myself, with all my strength and
caution, to paddle after the unsteered _Hispaniola_. Once I shipped a
sea so heavy that I had to stop and bail, with my heart fluttering like
a bird; but gradually I got into the way of the thing, and guided my
coracle among the waves, with only now and then a blow upon her bows
and a dash of foam in my face.
I was now gaining rapidly on the schooner; I could see the brass glisten
on the tiller as it banged about; and still no soul appeared upon her
decks. I could not choose but suppose she was deserted. If not, the men
were lying helpless below, where I might batten them down, perhaps; and
do what I chose with the ship.
For some time she had been doing the worst thing possible for
me--standing still. She headed nearly due south, yawing, of course, all
the time. Each time she fell off her sails partly filled, and these
brought her, in a moment, right to the wind again. I have said this was
the worst thing possible for me; for, helpless as she looked in this
situation, with the canvas crackling like cannon, and the blocks
trundling and banging on the deck, she still continued to run away from
me, not only with the speed of the current, but by the whole amount of
her leeway, which was naturally great.
But now, at last, I had my chance. The breeze fell, for some seconds,
very low, and the current gradually turning her, the _Hispaniola_
revolved slowly round her centre, and at last presented me her stern,
with the cabin window still gaping open, and the lamp over the table
still burning on into the day. The mainsail hung drooped like a banner.
She was stock-still, but for the current.
For the last little while I had even lost; but now, redoubling my
efforts, I began once more to overhaul the chase. I was not a hundred
yards from her when the wind came again in a clap; she filled on the
port tack, and was off again, stooping and skimming like a swallow.
My first impulse was one of despair, but my second was towards joy.
Round she came, till she was broadside on to me--round still till she
had covered a half, and then two-thirds, and then three-quarters of the
distance that separated us. I could see the waves boiling white under
her forefoot. Immensely tall she looked to me from my low station in the
coracle.
And then, of a sudden, I began to comprehend. I had scarce time to
think--scarce time to act and save myself. I was on the summit of one
swell when the schooner came stooping over the next. The bowsprit was
over my head. I sprang to my feet, and leaped, stamping the coracle
under water. With one hand I caught the jib-boom, while my foot was
lodged between the stay and the brace; and as I still clung there
panting, a dull blow told me that the schooner had charged down upon and
struck the coracle, and that I was left without retreat on the
_Hispaniola_.
--ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
_From “Treasure Island,” by permission._
* * * * *
No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him: there is always work,
And tools to work withal, for those who will;
And blesséd are the horny hands of toil.--LOWELL.