The Sun Of Quebec - Part 16
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Part 16

"Thanks for taking me, and for the compliment, too," said Robert. "I've no mind to be left here alone in the middle of the ocean on a sinking ship."

"'Tis no pleasant prospect, nor have we an easy path before us in the boats, either. On the whole, the chances are against us. There's land not far away to starboard, but whether we'll make it in so rough a sea is another matter. Are you handy with an oar?"

"Fairly so. I've had experience on lakes and rivers, but none on the sea."

"'Twill serve. We'll launch three boats. Hooker, the boatswain, takes one, Stubbs has the other, and I command the last. You go with me."

"It would have been my choice."

"I'm flattered, Peter. I may get a chance yet to sell you to one of the plantations."

"I think not, Captain. The stars in their courses have said 'no.'"

"Come! Come! Don't be Biblical here."

"The truth is the truth anywhere. But I'm glad enough to go with you."

One of the boats was launched with great difficulty, and the boatswain, Hooker, and six men, two of whom were wounded, were lowered into it. It capsized almost immediately, and all on board were lost. Those destined for the other two boats hung back a while, but it became increasingly necessary for them to make the trial, no matter what the risk. The schooner rolled and pitched terribly, and a sailor, sent to see, reported that the water was rising in her steadily.

The captain showed himself a true seaman and leader. He had been wounded in the shoulder, but the hurt had been bound up hastily and he saw to everything. Each of the boats contained kegs of water, arms, ammunition and food. A second was launched and Stubbs and his crew were lowered into it. A great wave caught it and carried it upon its crest, and Robert, watching, expected to see it turn over like the first, but the mate and the crew managed to restore the balance, and they disappeared in the darkness, still afloat.

"There, lads," exclaimed the captain, "you see it can be done. Now we'll go too, and the day will soon come when we'll have a new ship, and then, ho! once more for the rover's free and gorgeous life!"

The unwounded men raised a faint cheer. The long boat was launched with infinite care, and Robert lent a hand. The pressure of circ.u.mstances made his feeling of comradeship with these men return. For the time at least his life was bound up with theirs. Two wounded sailors were lowered first into the boat.

"Now, Peter, you go," said the captain. "As I told you, I may have a chance yet to sell you to a plantation, and I must preserve my property."

Robert slid down the rope. The captain and the others followed, and they cast loose. They were eight in the boat, three of whom were wounded, though not badly. The lad looked back at the schooner. He saw a dim hulk, with the black flag still floating over it, and then she pa.s.sed from sight in the darkness and driving storm.

He took up an oar, resolved to do his best in the common struggle for life, and with the others fought the sea for a long time. The captain set their course south by west, apparently for some island of which he knew, and meanwhile the men strove not so much to make distance as to keep the boat right side up. Often Robert thought they were gone. They rode dizzily upon high waves, and they sloped at appalling angles, but always they righted and kept afloat. The water sprayed them continuously and the wind made it sting like small shot, but that was a trifle to men in their situation who were straining merely to keep the breath in their bodies.

After a while--Robert had no idea how long the time had been--the violence of the wind seemed to abate somewhat, and their immense peril of sinking decreased. Robert sought an easier position at the oar, and tried to see something rea.s.suring, but it was still almost as dark as pitch, and there was only the black and terrible sea around them. But the captain seemed cheerful.

"We'll make it, lads, before morning," he said. "The storm is sinking, as you can see, and the island is there waiting for us."

In another hour the sea became so much calmer that there was no longer any danger of the boat overturning. Half of the men who had been rowing rested an hour, and then the other half took their turn. Robert was in the second relay, and when he put down his oar he realized for the first time that his hands were sore and his bones aching.

"You've done well, Peter," said the captain. "You've become one of us, whether or no, and we'll make you an honored inhabitant of our island when we come to it."

Robert said nothing, but lay back, drawing long breaths of relief. The danger of death by drowning had pa.s.sed for the moment and he had a sense of triumph over nature. Despite his weariness and soreness, he was as anxious as ever to live, and he began to wonder about this island of which the captain spoke. It must be tropical, and hence in his imagination beautiful, but by whom was it peopled? He did not doubt that they would reach it, and that he, as usual, would escape all perils.

Always invincible, his greatest characteristic was flaming up within him. He seemed to have won, in a way, the regard of the captain, and he did not fear the men. They would be castaways together, and on the land opportunities to escape would come. On the whole he preferred the hazards of the land to those of the sea. He knew better how to deal with them. He was more at home in the wilderness than on salt water. Yet a brave heart was alike in either place.

"We'd better take it very easy, lads," said the captain. "Not much rowing now, and save our strength for the later hours of the night."

"Why?" asked Robert.

"Because the storm, although it has gone, is still hanging about in the south and may conclude to come back, a.s.sailing us again. A shift in the wind is going on now, and if it hit us before we reached the island, finding us worn out, we might go down before it."

It was a good enough reason and bye and bye only two men kept at the oars, the rest lying on the bottom of the boat or falling asleep in their seats. The captain kept a sharp watch for the other boat, which had gone away in the dark, but beheld no sign of it, although the moon and stars were now out, and they could see a long distance.

"Stubbs knows where the island is," said the captain, "and if they've lived they'll make for it. We can't turn aside to search all over the sea for 'em."

Robert after a while fell asleep also in his seat, and despite his extraordinary situation slept soundly, though it was rather an unconsciousness that came from extreme exhaustion, both bodily and mental. He awoke some time later to find that the darkness had come back and that the wind was rising again.

"You can take a hand at the oar once more, Peter," said the captain. "I let you sleep because I knew that it would refresh you and we need the strength of everybody. The storm, as I predicted, is returning, not as strong as it was at first, perhaps, but strong enough."

He wakened the other men who were sleeping, and all took to the oars.

The waves were running high, and the boat began to ship water. Several of the men, under instructions from the captain, dropped their oars and bailed it out with their caps or one or two small tin vessels that they had stored aboard.

"Luckily the wind is blowing in the right direction," said the captain.

"It comes out of the northeast, and that carries us toward the island.

Now, lads, all we have to do is to keep the boat steady, and not let it ship too much water. The wind itself will carry us on our way."

But the wind rose yet more, and it required intense labor and vigilance to fight the waves that threatened every moment to sink their craft.

Robert pulled on the oar until his arms ached. Everybody toiled except the captain, who directed, and Robert saw that he had all the qualities to make him a leader of slavers or pirates. In extreme danger he was the boldest and most confident of them all, and he stood by his men. They could see that he would not desert them, that their fortune was his fortune. He was wounded, Robert did not yet know how badly, but he never yielded to his hurt. He was a figure of strength in the boat, and the men drew courage from him to struggle for life against the overmastering sea. Somehow, for the time at least, Robert looked upon him as his own leader, obeying his commands, willingly and without question.

He was drenched anew with the salt water, but as they were in warm seas he never thought of it. Now and then he rested from his oar and helped bail the water from the boat.

A pale dawn showed at last through the driving clouds, but it was not encouraging. The sea was running higher than ever, and there was no sign of land. One of the men, much worse wounded than they had thought, lay down in the bottom of the boat and died. They tossed his body unceremoniously overboard. Robert knew that it was necessary, but it horrified him just the same. Another man, made light of head by dangers and excessive hardships, insisted that there was no island, that either they would be drowned or would drift on in the boat until they died of thirst and starvation. The captain drew a pistol and looking him straight in the eye said:

"Another word of that kind from you, Waters, and you'll eat lead. You know me well enough to know that I keep my word."

The man cowered away and Robert saw that it was no vain threat. Waters devoted his whole attention to an oar, and did not speak again.

"We'll strike the island in two or three hours," the captain said with great confidence.

The dawn continued to struggle with the stormy sky, but its progress was not promising. It was only a sullen gray dome over a gray and ghastly sea, depressing to the last degree to men worn as they were. But in about two hours the captain, using gla.s.ses that he had taken from his coat, raised the cry:

"Land ho!"

He kept the gla.s.ses to his eyes a full two minutes, and when he took them down he repeated with certainty:

"Land ho! I can see it distinctly there under the horizon in the west, and it's the island we've been making for. Now, lads, keep her steady and we'll be there in an hour."

All the men were vitalized into new life, but the storm rose at the same time, and spray and foam dashed over them. All but two or three were compelled to work hard, keeping the water out of the boat, while the others steadied her with the oars. Robert saw the captain's face grow anxious, and he began to wonder if they would reach the island in time.

He wondered also how they would land in case they reached it, as he knew from his reading and travelers' tales that most of the little islands in these warm seas were surrounded by reefs.

The wind drove them on and the island rose out of the ocean, a dark, low line, just a blur, but surely land, and the drooping men plucked up their spirits.

"We'll make it, lads! Don't be down-hearted!" cried the captain. "Keep the boat above water a half hour longer, and we'll tread the soil of mother earth again! Well done, Peter! You handle a good oar! You're the youngest in the boat, but you've set an example for the others! There's good stuff in you, Peter."

Robert, to his own surprise, found his spirit responding to this man's praise, slaver and pirate though he was, and he threw more strength into his swing. Soon they drew near to the island, and he heard such a roaring of the surf that he shuddered. He saw an unbroken line of white and he knew that behind it lay the cruel teeth of the rocks, ready to crunch any boat that came. Every one looked anxiously at the captain.

"There's a rift in the rocks to the right," he said, "and when we pa.s.s through it we'll find calm water inside. Now, lads, all of you to the oars and take heed that you do as I say on the instant or we'll be on the reef!"

They swung to the right, and so powerful were wind and wave that it seemed to Robert they fairly flew toward the island. The roaring of the surf grew and the long white line rose before them like a wall. He saw no opening, but the captain showed no signs of fear and gave quick, sharp commands. The boat drove with increased speed toward the island, rising on the crests of great waves, then sinking with sickening speed into the trough of the sea, to rise dizzily on another wave. Robert saw the rocks, black, sharp and cruel, reaching out their long, savage teeth, and the roar of wind and surf together was now so loud that he could no longer hear the captain's commands. He was conscious that the boat was nearly full of water, and when he was not blinded by the flying surf he saw looks of despair on the faces of the men.