My good mother was always
most awarse to my following the seas on account of that very danger;
most especially from a fear of the savages from the islands round
about."
"We will look for our boats," Mark gravely replied, the image of
Bridget, just at that instant, appearing before his mind with a painful
distinctness.
Both now turned their eyes again to leeward, the first direct rays of
the sun beginning to illumine the surface of the ocean in that quarter.
Something like a misty cloud had been settled on the water, rather less
than a league from the ship, in the western board, and had hitherto
prevented a close examination in that part of the horizon. The power of
the sun, however, almost instantly dispersed it, and then, for the first
time, Bob fancied he did discover something like land. Mark, however,
could not make it out, until he had gone up into the cross-trees, when
he, too, got a glimpse of what, under all the circumstances, he did not
doubt was either a portion of the reef that rose above the water, or was
what might be termed a low, straggling island. Its distance from the
ship, they estimated at rather more than two leagues.
Both Mark and Bob remained aloft near an hour longer, or until they had
got the best possible view of which their position would allow, of
everything around the ship. Bob went down, and took a glass up to his
officer, Mark sweeping the whole horizon with it, in the anxious wish to
make out something cheering in connection with the boats. The drift of
these unfortunate craft must have been towards the land, and that he
examined with the utmost care. Aided by the glass, and his elevation, he
got a tolerable view of the spot, which certainly promised as little in
the way of supplies as any other bit of naked reef he had ever seen. The
distance, however, was so great as to prevent his obtaining any certain
information on that point. One thing, however, he did ascertain, as he
feared, with considerable accuracy. After passing the glass along the
whole of that naked rock, he could see nothing on it in motion. Of birds
there were a good many, more indeed than from the extent of the visible
reef he might have expected; but no signs of man could be discovered. As
the ocean, in all directions, was swept by the glass, and this single
fragment of a reef, which was less than a mile in length, was the only
thing that even resembled land, the melancholy conviction began to force
itself on Mark and Bob, that all their shipmates had perished! They
might have perished in one of several ways; as the naked reef did not
lie precisely to leeward of the ship, the boats may have driven by it,
in the deep darkness of the past night, and gone far away out of sight
of the spot where they had left the vessel, long ere the return of day.
There was just the possibility that the spars of the ship might be seen
by the wanderers, if they were still living, and the faint hope of their
regaining the vessel, in the course of the day, by means of their oars.
It was, however, more probable that the boats had capsized in some of
the numerous fragments of breakers, that were visible even in the
present calm condition of the ocean, and that all in them had been
drowned. The best swimmer must have hopelessly perished, in such a
situation, and in such a night, unless carried by a providential
interference to the naked rock to leeward. That no one was living on
that reef, the glass pretty plainly proved.
Mark and Bob Betts descended to the deck, after passing a long time
aloft making their observations. Both were pretty well assured that
their situation was almost desperate, though each was too resolute, and
too thoroughly imbued with the spirit of a seaman, to give up while
there was the smallest shadow of hope. As it was now getting past the
usual breakfast hour, some cold meat was got out, and, for the first
time since Mark had been transferred to the cabin, they sat down on the
windlass and ate the meal together. A little, however, satisfied men in
their situation; Bob Betts fairly owning that he had no appetite, though
so notorious at the ship's beef and a biscuit, as to be often the
subject of his messmates' jokes. That morning even he could eat but
little, though both felt it to be a duty they owed to themselves to take
enough to sustain nature. It was while these two forlorn and desolate
mariners sat there on the windlass, picking, as it might be, morsel by
morsel, that they first entered into a full and frank communication with
each other, touching the realities of their present situation. After a
good deal had passed between them, Mark suddenly asked—
"Do you think it possible, Bob, for us two to take care of the ship,
should we even manage to get her into deep water again?"
"Well, that is not so soon answered, Mr. Woolston," returned Bob. "We're
both on us stout, and healthy, and of good courage, Mr. Mark; but
'twould be a desperate long way for two hands to carry a wessel of four
hundred tons, to take the old 'Cocus from this here anchorage, all the
way to the coast of America; and short of the coast there's no ra'al
hope for us. Howsever, sir, that is a subject that need give us no
consarn."
"I do not see that, Bob; we shall have to do it, unless we fall in with
something at sea, could we only once get the vessel; out from among
these reefs."
"Ay, ay, sir—could' we get her out from among these reefs, indeed!
There's the rub, Mr. Woolston; but I fear 't will never be 'rub and
go.'"
"You think, then, we are too fairly in for it, ever to get the ship
clear?"
"Such is just my notion, Mr. Woolston, on that subject, and I've no wish
to keep it a secret. In my judgment, was poor Captain Crutchely alive
and back at his post, and all hands just as they was this time
twenty-four hours since, and the ship where she is now, that here she
would have to stay. Nothing short of kedging can ever take the wessel
clear of the reefs to windward on us, and man-of-war kedging could
hardly do it, then."
"I am sorry to hear you say this," answered Mark, gloomily, "though I
feared as much myself."
"Men is men, sir, and you can get no more out on 'em than is in 'em. I
looked well at these reefs, sir, when aloft, and they're what I call as
hopeless affairs as ever I laid eyes on. If they lay in any sort of way,
a body might have some little chance of getting through 'em, but they
don't lay, no how.
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