THE ZOE.
Although Ned had not progressed very far in the way of building a
habitation, it seemed to him as if the gale had swept away what little
he could call his own.
Not only was the hut demolished, but he had great difficulty in deciding
where it had been located. The last vestige of the fire was effaced, and
with it was gone all accurate means of ascertaining the exact place
where the silver was buried; but this did not trouble him particularly,
because he knew it would not require any very lengthy search to find it
again.
In the grove more than half the trees had been leveled to the ground,
and one glance was sufficient to show that he would have quite a task
before him in order to make his way through the tangle of boughs and
foliage.
All this he took in at one hasty glance, not troubling himself with
regard to the details, for just at that moment his chief concern was as
to what he should do for food and shelter during the day.
“I reckon it’s a case of holdin’ on here a while longer,” he said to
himself, “for if I once let go my hold it might be hard work to get back
again, and, besides, it’s easier to keep the matches dry as I’m standin’
now. There don’t seem to be much of a show for gettin’ anything to eat
yet awhile. Even if it was possible to build a fire I wouldn’t be able
to catch any fish or find the clams. If I hadn’t made such a fool of
myself over the silver I’d got supper last night, an’ shouldn’t be so
hungry now.”
Regrets were useless, however, as he soon realized, and all he could do
was to cling to his tree and hope the strength of the wind might abate
as the day grew older.
In this last respect his wish was granted.
By ten o’clock the force of the gale had sensibly abated, although even
then the wind was blowing harder than Ned ever experienced it before.
It was now possible to leave the shelter of his tree without incurring
imminent danger, and he worked his way further among the fallen timber
in the hope of finding some place where the matches could be left, for
even the strain of holding them so tightly was beginning to tell upon
him.
There were plenty of opportunities to deposit his precious package, but
not with any certainty that it would be kept dry, for there was water
everywhere, until it seemed certain the key must be submerged.
He finally decided to leave the bundle under the trunks of two small
trees which had been uprooted, and then crept out to where a full view
of the sea might be had.
An exclamation of fear and dismay burst from his lips as he stood where
he could gaze out over the angry waters, for in full view, and not more
than a mile away, was a small craft, tossed to and fro like an
egg-shell, but being driven rapidly toward the key.
It was some time before Ned could discern her rig, and then he
discovered that she was a steamer, but a tiny one. Probably some
pleasure yacht which had been driven to sea by the fury of the gale and
was now unmanageable.
She was almost on her beam-ends, and each time the gigantic waves lifted
her on high Ned fancied he could see two forms lashed to the port rail,
which was to windward.
Every few seconds she would be carried down, down into the trough of the
sea until it seemed as if the storm king was bent on sending her to the
bottom, and when she rose again it was with that uncertain, sluggish
movement which tells of the weight of water within the hold.
“If she strikes here those poor men are doomed,” Ned cried, much as if
fancying some one could hear his words, “and there’s nothing I can do to
help them! A fellow would be swept off his feet the instant he so much
as touched the surf line!”
That the yacht would strike the shore there could be no question.
If it was possible to guide her into the little bay there might be some
chance for those on board to save their lives, for there the surf was
not quite so violent; but the apparently doomed ones could not alter the
course by so much as a hair’s-breadth.
The beautiful craft was but a plaything for the waves, and as helpless
as a wounded bird.
Ned gazed at the terrible scene as if fascinated.
For the first time since the discovery of the treasure did he forget
that such a metal as silver had an existence. All his thoughts were
centered on this evidence of the storm’s fury, which must apparently
soon be blotted from view, and with it would go the lives of two human
beings.
Almost unconscious of what he did, Ned walked down toward the water
line, until he was as far as it was safe to venture, and once there,
fancied he saw one of the figures wave its hands as if imploring him to
render some assistance.
[Illustration: THE WRECK OF THE STEAM YACHT ZOE.—Page 85.]
“I wish I could do it!” he shouted, as if thinking the sufferers could
hear him. “I haven’t got a boat, an’ even if I had, she couldn’t be
launched in this surf!”
He took no heed of time.
He only knew that the yacht was coming broadside on very rapidly; but
whether five minutes or five hours had elapsed from the moment he first
saw her, it would have been impossible to say.
When she was not more than a hundred yards from the shore the waves
swung her around until he could see in gilt letters on her stern the
name Zoe.
Then she went down once more into the chasm of waters, and on rising
again, it was apparent that the end had come.
Up, up, up until it seemed she was directly above his head did the
wounded craft rise, and then, as if impelled by some terrible force from
seaward, she shot landward, coming so near where Ned stood that he
involuntarily leaped aside, fearing the hull might crush him.
There was no very heavy crash as she struck, or if there was Ned failed
to hear it.
It seemed to him as if the waves had left her gently on the sand and
then ran back to gather fresh impetus before pounding her to pieces.
During such a time as one might have counted ten she was literally high
and dry, and in that short interval Ned had sufficient presence of mind
to shout:
“Jump! Jump now while you’ve got the chance, an’ I’ll catch you!”
One of the two obeyed, throwing himself, rather than leaping, from the
deck, which was almost perpendicular, and Ned rushed forward, seizing
him by the coat just as the waves returned with an angry howl and roar.
Instantly on touching the sand the sufferer staggered forward and fell
on his face, where he lay like one dead; but Ned managed to drag him
beyond the reach of the surf and turned his attention to the other.
“When the water goes back you must jump!” he shrieked, and this command
was emphasized by the violent rolling of the little craft as the sea
nearly turned her over. “One more wave like that an’ it will be too
late!”
The words were understood, and two minutes afterward Ned was dragging
the second body high up on the beach; but whether or no he had succeeded
in saving life it was impossible to say.
Both the rescued ones lay on the sand as if dead, and Ned gazed at them
helplessly, not knowing what should be done.
To his surprise, for until this moment he had not had any time to note
details, he saw that both were boys about his own age, and even at this
dreadful moment, when it was a question whether they were yet alive, he
wondered how it was that two young fellows should be alone on a yacht
like the one which promised speedily to become food for the waves.
While he stood looking at them helplessly, the one who had first reached
the shore opened his eyes, stared around in alarm, and then attempted to
rise to his feet.
He was too nearly exhausted to permit of such an exertion, and would
have fallen backward had Ned not seized him by the coat collar again.
“Better lay still awhile,” he said soothingly, “an’ you’ll soon get your
strength. There isn’t such a thing on the island as a house, or I’d try
to get you under cover. As it is you’ll have to stay out of doors till
something can be rigged up for a shelter.”
“I’m all right; but where is Roy? Didn’t he get ashore?”
“If you mean the fellow who was with you, you’ve only got to turn around
in order to see him. He don’t show up very lively yet awhile, but I
guess he’ll come ’round all right after a time.”
As a means of bringing the yet unconscious boy to his senses, Ned shook
him violently and persistently until the sufferer opened his eyes in a
languid sort of way.
“Are we safe, Vance?” he asked feebly.
“Indeed we are, even if it did look so blue a few minutes ago. The yacht
was thrown directly up on the bank, almost above high-water mark, and
all we had to do was to drop off.”
The knowledge that he was safe when death had seemed positive served to
revive the boy wonderfully, and before five minutes had passed both the
shipwrecked ones were staring at Ned as if asking how it was he happened
to be there.
“I s’pose you want to know if I live here?” he said cheerily, for the
fact that he had companions was a wonderful relief in his loneliness;
but even as he spoke there came the thought that the arrival of these
two might put an end to his treasure-seeking unless he should be willing
to share with them.
“How did you get here?” the boy who had been called Vance asked.
“I was set ashore from the brig Evening Star so’s Captain Bragg could
wreck her; but it’s too long a story to tell now. Wait till things are a
little more comfortable, an’ then I’ll give you the whole yarn. Where
did you come from?”
“Key West.”
“Were you running the steamer alone?”
“We had three men with us,” Vance replied with a shudder, “but all of
them were washed overboard during the night. I’d rather not talk about
it just now. How do you feel, Roy?”
“As if somebody had been beating me until every bone in my body is
broken. What’s your name?” he added, turning to Ned.
“Edward Rogers.”
“My name is Roy Harland, and this is my cousin, Vance Stewart. Have you
been here long?”
“Since the day before yesterday.”
“Isn’t there any place where we can get in out of the storm? It seems as
if I should feel better if I could get dry once more.”
“I built a shanty of leaves and poles, but the wind moved it for me last
night in fine style. It took about ten seconds to get rid of the whole
establishment.”
By this time the boys thought of the yacht, to which no attention had
been paid since Vance first recovered consciousness.
She was laying on her beam-ends with the waves pounding against the
timbers with a force that threatened to convert the hull into kindlings,
but Ned fancied the waters had receded somewhat since he first ventured
down to the shore.
“I suppose she is bound to go to pieces,” Roy said mournfully as he
gazed at the little craft.
“I’m not so certain about that,” Ned replied. “It strikes me the sea
isn’t runnin’ quite as high as it was an hour ago, and if you’ll notice,
the water doesn’t come up as far as it did.”
As he spoke he pointed to the line of foam and drift which had been left
on the sand some time previous, and all three watched it several
moments.
“It’s certain the waves are not reaching that mark,” Vance said with a
sigh. “Perhaps the little craft won’t go to pieces after all.”
“It ain’t likely you’ll ever see her afloat again.”
“That may be; but if she holds together we shall have a good supply of
provisions, and I don’t fancy you’ve got more than you need.”
“My stock is yet to be caught. All I’ve had so far is fish, with a few
clams that weren’t very good, an’ I couldn’t get breakfast this mornin’
because of the storm.”
“The Zoe is well fitted out, and in addition to plenty of provisions, we
shall be able to get from her canvas enough with which to make a tent.”
“If that’s the case we’d better keep a mighty sharp lookout, so if she
does go to pieces we can save some of the stuff,” Ned replied eagerly,
for the idea of having a shelter which would be water-tight was
particularly pleasing to the boy who had had a short but rather
unpleasant experience in a less substantial dwelling.
Vance suggested that they go into the grove, where the party would be
partially sheltered from the wind, but Ned refused to leave the beach.
He insisted that it was in the highest degree important to be on hand in
case the yacht went to pieces, and the others would not venture alone.
Inch by inch the water receded until the wreck was in such a position
that it would be possible to board her by wading a short distance, and
Ned proposed that the work of salvage be begun at once.
“I can send down a lot of stuff by going aboard an’ riggin’ a block on
the flag-staff,” he said, but the others thought it best to wait until
the storm had cleared away.
By noon the rain ceased falling, and Ned built a fire after some
difficulty, owing to the dampness of everything, including the matches,
and then, as Roy and Vance began to feel the pangs of hunger, they
agreed that it was time to get some of the stores ashore.
Ned clambered aboard, the boys directing his movements, and if Vance had
not interfered, he would have landed each article as it came to hand.
“There is no sense in doing that until we have something in the way of a
tent to keep the stuff dry. There’s little danger of another storm right
away, and we may as well do the thing properly.”
“Well, what do you want first?”
“Get enough out of the pantry for dinner, and after we’ve had something
to eat we’ll set at work on the tent. There are a lot of old sails in
the forepeak, and we shall have canvas in plenty.”
Ned selected about three times as much provisions as the little party
could eat at a single meal, for the yacht had everything on board to
tempt one’s appetite, and the castaways made a hearty dinner of the
choicest canned goods.
Ned sent ashore cooking utensils in abundance, and Roy, who proved to be
no mean cook, served up the different dishes in a manner far excelling
anything in the culinary line Ned had ever seen.
“Now, this is what I call comfort,” the marooned boy said when he had
rather more than satisfied his hunger, and the sun came out from behind
the clouds, thus giving them an opportunity of drying their clothing.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get a little sleep; I didn’t close my eyes
once last night, except when the sand was flying so thick that it was
necessary.”
“Neither did we,” Roy replied, “and I’d like a nap this minute, but I
don’t think we can afford the time just now. We ought to get at least
one tent up before dark.”
Ned was by no means a lazy fellow, and thinking it incumbent to do the
largest share of the work since his new acquaintances were supplying all
the provisions and comforts of life, he leaped to his feet at once.
Vance went aboard the wreck with him, and in less than an hour they had
on shore the sails, tools with which to do the necessary labor, and an
additional supply of food.
Bedding sufficient for the party was the last on the list, and after
this had been procured the boys began the work of hut-building.
His previous experience had taught Ned how essential it was to secure
everything in such a manner that it could not be blown away, and the
tent which was to be used as a sleeping apartment was erected in a
workmanlike fashion.
Two trees growing at the desired distance apart, near the spot where the
silver was buried, served as the uprights for the ends of the camp, and
to these a ridge-pole was lashed firmly.
Across it was spread the largest sail, and the edges pegged down until
one would have said a hurricane could hardly make any impression upon
it.
The ends might be closed with blankets, or sail-cloth if necessary, but
owing to the warm climate it was not thought advisable to shut
themselves out from a plentiful supply of fresh air until a storm should
render it imperative.
It was nearly nightfall when this work had been completed to the
satisfaction of all hands, and then Vance went on the wreck once more
for lanterns.
“We may as well make things look as cheerful as possible,” he said, “and
it’s a good deal more pleasant to have a light after the fire goes out
than be in the darkness.”
“If you say the word I’ll get the stove from the cook’s quarters,” Ned
suggested. “It isn’t very large, an’ I could almost handle it alone.”
“I think we’d better leave that until morning. It will take quite a
while before we got it going, because coal must be brought ashore, and
Roy can get us up one more meal on your fire.”
Ned was satisfied with any arrangement they might wish to make, but he
insisted on having a couple of pails for fresh water to prevent the
necessity of running to and fro from the spring so often, and these
Vance brought with the lanterns.
The amateur cook prepared as tempting a supper as he had the dinner, and
when all had done it full justice the dishes were placed outside the
tent to be washed in the morning, for night had now fully come.
Ned piled the fire high with wood, for since he had an ax the labor of
preparing fuel did not seem very great to a boy like him, who had always
been forced to perform such laborious tasks, and then he lay down on one
of the yacht’s mattresses, feeling that he had every reason to be
thankful for the change in his surroundings.
“Now tell us how you happen to be here,” Roy said. “We’ve got plenty of
time, for we don’t want to go to sleep immediately after supper, and
when you have finished Vance and I will explain how it is the yacht came
ashore with only us two as a crew.”