THE FLOOD.
AS the old sailor made his way back to the island, he was alarmed
to see how rapidly the water was rising over the marsh. He splashed
knee-deep in the water at every step and it was easy to see that it
still continued to rise with astonishing rapidity.
His first act on reaching the island was to move the camp to the
highest knoll of ground, already the lowest lying portions of the
island were submerged. Chris had regained consciousness though he was
still too weak to move without assistance. He watched the old sailor's
preparations with evident interest and looked at the rapidly rising
water with evident anxiety.
"If dat water doan stop comin' up, we is sho' goin' to hab a hard time
gettin' anythin' to eat," he observed. "Can't get ober dem rock no
way when dey is covered wid water, sho' to break a leg in one ob dem
holes."
"The Lord will watch out for us, lad," encouraged the captain. "Look
at all that He has brought us through. He has never deserted us in our
hour of need."
"Golly! I reckon dat's so," agreed the little darkey, thoughtfully.
He remained quiet for a few minutes then said quaintly, "'Spect's we
oughter ask him to look out foah Massa Charley an' Massa Walt. I'ze
getting plum anxious 'bout dem two white chillins. Dey had oughter been
back long 'fore dis. Massa Charley's mighty clever, but I 'spect dat
it wouldn't do no harm to ax de Lawd to help him out a bit if he's in
trouble."
"No one can do without the Lord's help, Chris," the captain said,
gravely, "an', I reckon, them lads need it powerful bad. Something
pretty serious has happened, I 'low, to keep them from coming back.
We'll ask the Good Lord to watch out for them an' protect them."
The old sailor knelt by the little negro's side and in simple seafaring
language prayed that the Heavenly Father would watch over and protect
the missing ones.
The simple steadfast faith of the old seaman and the trusting little
negro filled them with a sense of security and peace. They doubted not
that their humble petition would be answered and that now a Heavenly
Eye was watching over them and their absent companions and that a
Divine Hand would guide them through their trials and danger. They
stretched out on their leafy couches and went fast to sleep, while the
storm raged and howled around them and the rising water crept slowly up
on their little island.
It was broad daylight when they awoke and looked about them. It was
a wild and terrifying scene that met their eyes. The marsh between
them and the sea was completely submerged and covered with rolling
white-caps. Far out on the reef they could see the mighty rollers
flinging their spray forty feet in the air when they struck the sunken
rocks. Of the island, none remained except the high sands and knoll
upon which was their camp. Between the island and the mainland was two
miles of swirling, foaming water.
"Can't get to shore, no ways, now, Massa Captain," Chris observed.
"You had oughter gone in las' night when you had a chance an' left dis
nigger behind."
"The Lord will look out for us, lad," said the old sailor cheerfully.
"I don't calculate that the water's going to rise high enough to cover
this knoll we are on an' as soon as the wind drops a bit, the boys will
be back for us with a boat. It's just a matter of being patient for a
little while. We may get a little bit hungry, but, I reckon, we can
stand that without grumbling."
"Sho' we can," agreed Chris, bravely. "Tho' hit do seem like I was
gettin' powerful hungry already. Ain't dar none of dem cassava roots
dat we can get at?"
A close search revealed that most of the patch of tubers was covered by
the rising water. A few plants however still showed on the little knoll
and these the captain dug at once. There was only a scant half peck of
the roots but that was better than nothing.
The old sailor kindled a little fire and roasted all the roots in the
coals.
"We might as well have one good full meal," he observed, "I never did
take much stock in this idea of going on short rations when grub is
scarce. I always 'lowed that one good feed would carry a man further
than a dozen pesky little ones that only tantalize the stomach."
But the roots shrank greatly in the cooking, by the time the skins were
removed, there was but little left for the hungry castaways. They still
felt empty after their meal was finished.
The day dragged wearily away with no sign of abatement of the storm.
The water continued to rise slowly, but so slowly that the two anxious
watchers were not without hope that the little knoll on which they
were would escape the overflow. Their position was by no means
uncomfortable. There was no rain and the weather was so warm that the
wind did not cause them to suffer any from cold. Aside from their
growing hunger and their anxiety about their missing companions, they
were quite comfortable. Chris, in fact, was in better shape than at any
time since they had been cast on shore.
"I don' reckon dis storm can las' berry much longer," he observed,
cheerfully, when the sun went down in a perfectly clear sky. "Dar ain't
no clouds to back up de wind an' hit's bound to play out 'fore long."
"That's just where you're wrong, lad," said the captain. "A gale from a
clear sky is the worst of all. I ain't ever seen many of them but what
I have seen were all hummers."
The two sat looking out on the gloomy waste of waters until the moon,
now at its full, rose and lit up the wild scene about them almost as
brightly as day. At last they tired of the wild, gloomy, disheartening
scene, and, after a short prayer together, stretched out on their
couches. Chris was almost instantly asleep but the captain lay long
awake, his mind full of their helpless situation, and, of anxious
conjectures as to the fate of the two absent lads. His own position
and that of his little companion was such as to awaken his deepest
fears. So long as the storm continued, their rescue by land or Gulf
was impossible. No boat could live amongst the rocks and raging waters
which now surrounded them. His long experience told him that the storm
was likely to continue at least two days longer.--He had seen similar
gales blow for an entire week without a let up. Even after the gale
was over, it would take some little time for the waves and water to
subside. At the best, they would suffer greatly from hunger before
their rescue would be possible. But, to do the old sailor justice, his
thoughts were not so much of their own situation as of the absent lads.
He could only hope and pray that they had not started to return by
water before the breaking of the storm.
As he lay motionless musing, his ear caught a low grating sound as of
heavy objects drawn on coarse sand. He quickly sat up on his couch and
looked around. In the bright moonlight he could see large dark objects
moving over the white sand.
"'Gators, an' a regular drove of them," he exclaimed. "Wake up, Chris!
Wake up!"
The little negro struggled up into a sitting position, still half
asleep.
"What's de matter, Massa Cap?" he inquired.
"Look at them 'gators, thar's dozens of them. We've got to have a fire
mighty quick an' stick close to it."
Chris greeted the sight of the dark objects with a cry of joy.
"Oh, Golly! De Good Lord's dun answered our prayers. Dem's turtles."
The old sailor sprang to his feet and would have dashed for the nearest
object if the little negro had not restrained him.
"You sho' scare dem all away if you do dat way," he cautioned. "Jus'
wait till dey gets to layin' an' you can walk right up on 'em."
The huge creatures crept steadily on up the shelving knoll. Their
progress was slow and clumsy, and their lower shells dragging over the
sand had made the grinding noise the captain had heard. They crept up
to within ten feet of where the two watchers lay, then, they halted,
and, with their hind flippers began to dig deep holes in the soft sand.
"Dey lays der eggs in dem holes an' covers dem up wid sand," Chris
explained in a whisper. "Dey each lays mighty nigh two hundred eggs. De
warm sand hatches out de little turtles."
The two castaways waited until the great sea hens had begun to lay,
then Chris arose and walked directly for them without any attempt at
concealment. The turtles did not pay the slightest attention to his
approach.
"We'll take dese two smallest ones," he announced. "Dey will be de
tenderest. Jus' grab de shell wid me, Massa Cap, back by de hind
flippers an' we'll flop 'em over on his back. Keep youah eyes an' mouth
shut."
But the old sailor was too excited to heed the advice. He grabbed the
turtle's shell and heaved, then staggered back spitting and coughing
with mouth, eyes, and ears full of sand, which the creature with it's
flippers sent flying in a cloud about it.
Chris waited until he had relieved himself of the stinging sand and
this time the captain, following his advice, kept mouth and eyes
tightly closed. A few seconds sufficed to turn the two turtles on their
backs where they lay helpless.
There must have been at least thirty turtles in the bunch but the
castaways contented themselves with only turning the two, any more
would have been useless slaughter. Those unmolested quickly completed
their laying, covered the eggs and retreated to the water.