Courage, True Hearts Part 40

His oil-skins were glittering with water, and his red face dripping too.

He shook the drops from his brown beard and sat down, with a strange uneasy kind of smile on his face.

"Not much to be done, is there, Morgan?"

"Nothing," replied the mate. "Seems to me we've just got to sit here and wait for death."

"Is that the view you take?"

A terrible wave at that moment dashed over the vessel, shaking her from stern to stem.

"Hark, sir! Isn't that the view you take?"

"While there is life there is hope, my friend."

The mate laughed half scornfully.

"There won't be much of either half an hour after this," he said solemnly.

The captain now essayed to go on deck. He ventured forward only a step or two. To have come farther would have been sheer madness.

Morgan was right. They had only to wait for death.

Wait and pray, however.

Ah, yes! for G.o.d the Lord is everywhere, on sea as well as on the dry land, and prayer is never denied us.

Morgan's half-hour was past, and another to that; still the st.u.r.dy ship gave no signs of breaking up.

On the contrary, the wind had gone down considerably, and the seas as well.

"Mate," said Talbot.

"Yes, sir."

"Are the men below?"

"Three, I think, were washed away; the rest are all in the galley or half-deck."

"It is very dreadful. But we have hope now. An hour ago I should not have ventured to serve out grog, lest in despair some might have broken into the spirit-hold. Come with me now, mate, and we will splice the main-brace. Come, steward, you know what is wanted."

It was very difficult even yet to get forward, so covered was the deck with wreckage. But they succeeded at last.

Sad, indeed, was the sight that dawn revealed.

The mizzen-mast alone was left standing, the fore and main having gone by the board.

The ship herself had been carried by a huge tidal wave, right in between two high volcanic-looking rocks, and there so jammed that at low tide it was perfectly possible to walk under keel.

Jibboom and bowsprit were also smashed, and a single glance at the ship would have told even a landsman that she was doomed.

Nor would it be safe even to remain on board, for at any time she might slide backwards and lie on the shingle beneath, broadside up.

Talbot was no pessimist.

"Thank G.o.d, boys," he said, "that our lives have been spared."

"Amen!" was said by all around, and that, too, with both reverence and fervour.

But the wind had fallen almost to a dead calm, and there was not a sound to be heard except the rustle of the shingle as it was hurled upon the beach by each advancing wavelet, and sucked back by the next.

"Now, men," cried the captain, "we'll go to breakfast at once, and then make all speed to land the cargo and stores. This island is evidently uninhabited, and it may be many a long day, indeed, before we are discovered and able to get away."

On the sh.o.r.e side, and between the rocks, was a green bank, and into this the shattered bowsprit had been thrust. So that to make a rough bridge from the fo'c's'le to the sh.o.r.e was a very simple matter.

There were still thirty men left as crew all told of the unfortunate _Flora_, not to mention Johnnie Shingles, Viking, and Old Pen, neither of whose names were borne on the ship's books.

But with such hearty good-will did the men work that before sunset, not only had they erected a huge marquee with spare spars, the wreck of the masts and sails, but had got a very large quant.i.ty of the most valuable stores on sh.o.r.e.

It was a strange island indeed, and evidently of volcanic origin. Not very large, probably not six miles in circ.u.mference altogether. It was well wooded, though the trees were by no means high, and in the centre was a beautiful circular lake, in which a lovely little island-grove seemed to float or to hang.

Work was resumed next day, and the men now set themselves to build two strong, substantial, living huts, a big and a smaller, with a rough but dry shed for the stores and cargo, not forgetting the balloon and the varied apparatus for inflating it.

It took them a whole week and a day to get everything snug and comfortable; and all this time it continued calm.

But never a boat nor dhow was to be seen from the outlook. The last was simply a spare spar of considerable height, with rigging thereto. It was, moreover, a flagstaff by day and a beacon by night. But I may state at once that this uninhabited isle being fully two hundred miles from the mainland sh.o.r.e, and quite out of the way of any kind of commerce, licit or illicit, there was but small chance of any signal being seen.

What made the situation more desperate was the fact that not a boat had been left, all were smashed and washed away; three having gone before the vessel struck.

But the greatest misfortune of all was the almost complete destruction of the donkey-engine, so that it would be impossible to distil water.

They managed to save enough, however, to last for fully three weeks with economy, and as Talbot said, there was no saying what might not occur before then.

This water was carefully stored in casks, placed in sheltered corners, and raised on stones to defend them against the ravages of the terrible white ant.

A more terrible scourge than these _Termitidae_ const.i.tute, it would be difficult to conceive. What makes it more serious, is that they work completely concealed--in galleries, that is. And so thin is the outer sh.e.l.l of wood which they leave that their presence is not suspected until the whole of some structure--and this may be of any size, from a wine-box to a building,--suddenly gives way.

These white ants once, to my knowledge, attacked a library of books which had not been used for some time. They were evidently fonder of reading than the townspeople. We talk of devouring a favourite author.

Well, in the case in point these terrible _Termitidae_ devoured their authors in a far more literal sense, and fairly ate them up, but they left the bindings all intact, so that when a volume was pulled out one day it turned Dead Sea fruit, and fell to dust in the librarian's hands.

Then, and not till then, was the whole extent of the mischief discovered.

Our little shipwrecked colony now settled down to wait and watch.

There was but little else to do.

They lived in hope, however, and day after day many a straining eye was turned seawards, to seek for the sail that never appeared, and the last thing at night which Talbot or the boys did was to walk around the edges of the cliffs, in the expectation of seeing some mast-head light.

A fire was ready at a moment's notice to light as a signal, but alas! it was not required.