The Wreck of The Red Bird Part 7

"Let's crusoe a little," said Jack, winding up his line.

"In what particular way?" asked Ned.

"Why, let's sail around our domain and see how the island looks on its other sides. Perhaps we may discover the savages, or find some game."

"A good idea; but we must go back to camp first, to leave our fish and get the gun and the sail; and while we're there we'd better get some dinner."

So said, so done. Dinner was very hastily dispatched, as the boys were anxious to get off, in order that the circuit of the island might be completed before night.

"It looks like rain," said Ned, as he shook out the sail, "but we don't mind a wetting."

There was a good breeze, and the boat bounded away, rocking a good deal, for the wind had been blowing all day, and there was more sea on than was usual in those quiet waters. Ned let the centre-board down, which steadied the boat somewhat, and enabled her to carry her sail without danger. The plan was to coast along about half a mile off sh.o.r.e in order that the island might be seen to good advantage; but as the eastern sh.o.r.e was reached the sea became heavier, and the roar of the surf on sh.o.r.e warned Ned of broad sands upon that side.

"I've got to make more offing here," he said.

"What do you mean by that? turn it into English," said Charley Black, who persistently refused to understand any thing that sounded like a nautical term.

"Well, I mean I've got to sail farther away from the sh.o.r.e."

"'Cause why?" asked Jack.

"Because of two things," replied Ned. "In the first place the sea comes in between those two islands over there, and has a fair sweep at about half a mile of our island's coast, and so for the next half mile we shall have some pretty rough water, and I prefer to be well off sh.o.r.e."

"I should think you'd prefer to be close insh.o.r.e if there's danger. Then if any thing happens we can land."

"That's all you know about it," said Ned. "I don't think there's the least danger, so long as we keep off sh.o.r.e, because this boat, with her centre-board down, is seaworthy; but as she isn't beach-worthy--and no vessel is that--I don't want to get her upon a beach. That brings me to my second reason. I want to take a good offing, because by the way the surf roars here, and by the look of it, I judge that there's a long sandy beach running out from this part of the island, and I don't want to risk getting into too shallow water."

"But why couldn't we land if there were danger?" asked Jack Farnsworth.

"If I had the helm that would be the first thing I'd try to do."

"So should I if I had a harbor to run into," replied Ned. "But don't you see that if we ran upon a sandy beach when there was a sea on, we should soon come to a place where there wouldn't be water enough except as a wave came in? Then the boat would be lifted up by every wave, and suddenly dropped upon the hard sand, and I can tell you she wouldn't stand much of that. Did you never notice that nearly all s.h.i.+pwrecks occur along sh.o.r.e?"

"Yes, that's true," replied Jack. "s.h.i.+ps that come to grief nearly always run on breakers or something; but I never thought of it before."

By this time Ned had secured at least a mile of offing but the sea grew every moment heavier. The wind had risen to half a gale, and in spite of the close reefing of the sail the boat lay far over and Ned directed his companions to "trim s.h.i.+p" by sitting upon the gunwale.

Jack Farnsworth soon discovered that Ned was becoming anxious. He quietly said:

"You suspect danger, Ned?"

"Oh, no," replied Ned, "at least I think not."

"Yes you do. I see it in your face. Now I want to say at once that whatever the danger is, we can only increase it by losing our wits. The important thing is for you to keep perfectly cool, because you know more than we do about sailing. Then you can tell us what to do, if there's any thing."

"Thank you," said Ned; "the fact is this: I think by the look of the horizon out there at sea, that we are likely to have a squall--that is, a sudden and very violent blow, added to the steadier wind that blows now. If we can run across this open s.p.a.ce before it comes, we'll be all right under the lee of that island over there, and if no squall comes we're safe enough even here, because the boat is seaworthy. But a knock-over squall might capsize us. It's coming, too--let go the sheet--cut it--any thing!"

As he said, or rather shouted this, Ned tried to head the boat to the wind, while Jack and Charley let go the sheet, and thus set the sail free. If the squall had struck the boat with the sheet fastened and the sail thus held in position, the _Red Bird_ would have capsized instantly; but with the sail swinging freely, less resistance was offered, and Ned expected in this way to avoid a catastrophe. He headed the boat to the wind, which was the best thing to do.

The squall struck just as the sail swung free, but before the _Red Bird_ could be brought completely around.

It seemed to the boys that the boat had been struck violently by a solid ball of some kind, so sharply did the squall come upon it. Having her head almost to the wind, she reared like a horse, swung around, and very nearly rolled over, but she did not quite capsize. The mast, however, snapped short off, and the sail fell over into the water, being held fast to the boat only by the guys.

"Cut the guys, Jack," cried Ned, "or that sail will swamp us! There! now all sit down in the bottom of the boat; no, no, Charley, not on the thwart, but on the bottom!"

Ned had to shriek these orders to be heard above the roar of the squall, which had not yet subsided. He knew that the immediate danger now was that the boat might turn over, and to prevent this, he ordered his companions to sit upon the bottom, as he himself did, in order that their weight might be where it would best serve as ballast.

This brought the three very nearly together, so that they could speak to each other without shouting quite at the top of their voices.

"Well, Ned?" said Charley Black.

"Well," replied Ned, "we shan't capsize now. That danger is over; but there's another before us that is just as bad."

"What is it?" asked Charley.

"And what shall we do toward meeting it?" asked Jack, whose superb calmness and manly resolution to look things in the face and to make fight against danger won Ned's heart.

"We're being driven at railroad speed upon the beach," answered Ned, "and we'll strike pretty soon. We've already lost the oars, and we couldn't use them if we had them in this sea; so we have nothing to do but wait. When we strike, the boat will be mashed into kindling wood.

Every thing depends then upon where we strike. If it is far from sh.o.r.e the big waves will beat us to a jelly on the sand. Our only chance will be, as soon as the boat strikes, to catch the next wave, swimming with it toward sh.o.r.e, taking care, when it recedes, to light on our feet, and then run with all our might up the sand. If we can get inside the break of the surf before the next wave catches us we're safe; but that's the only chance. Every thing depends now on where we strike."

"Boots off," cried Jack; "we may have to swim."

Ned and Charley accepted the suggestion. All now anxiously scanned the sh.o.r.e, which seemed to be coming toward them at a tremendous speed.

Suddenly Ned cried out:

"There's a reef just ahead; when we strike try to cross it into the stiller water."

At that moment it seemed as if the sandy reef had suddenly shot up from below, striking the bottom of the boat as a trip-hammer might, and s.h.i.+vering it into fragments. What had really happened was this: the boat, driving forward on the crest of a wave, had been carried to a point immediately over the sand ridge or reef, and there suddenly dropped by the receding of the wave. It had struck the sandy bottom with sufficient violence to crush its sides and bottom into a shapeless ma.s.s.

The boys were wellnigh stunned by the blow, but rallying quickly they ran forward in water only a few inches deep, and before the next incoming wave struck, they had crossed the narrow sand reef, and plunged into the deep, but comparatively still water that lay inside. The surf was broken, of course, upon the reef, and although the waves pa.s.sed completely over it, their force was expended upon it, so that inside the barrier the boys found the water disturbed by nothing more than a swell.

The distance to the sh.o.r.e was small, and they soon swam it, pulling themselves out on the sand, drenched, bare-headed, bootless, and weary beyond expression, not so much from exertion as from the strain through which their brains and nerves had pa.s.sed.

CHAPTER IX.

THE SITUATION.

The first thing to be done was to rest. Utterly exhausted, the lads dragged themselves a few feet from the water and threw themselves down upon the sand, thinking of nothing and caring for nothing except to lie still. The squall had pa.s.sed away as quickly as it had come, and although a stiff breeze was still blowing the afternoon sun beating down upon them warmed as well as dried them rapidly. Jack Farnsworth was the first to recover his wits.

"I say, fellows, this won't do," he said, raising himself to a sitting posture. "The day is waning and we've got to get back to our camp before night."

Ned and Charley tried to rise. Ned accomplished the feat, but poor Charley found it impossible.

"Why, boys," he said, sinking back upon the sand, "I'm all of a tremble; I don't know what's the matter."

"Reaction," said Ned.