Philosopher Jack Part 5

"Bear a hand, boys!" cried Edwin Jack, as he laid hold of the inner end of the rope.

Strong and willing hands were ready, but before they could lay hold the rope parted, and Jack was dragged violently into the sea. He rose like a cork. Little Wilkins lay down, and stretched out a helping hand.

Jack caught it, and would infallibly have dragged the little fellow into the water if Ben Trench had not thrown himself on his legs and held on.

Baldwin Burr seized hold of Ben, and the captain coming up at the moment, lent his powerful aid. Jack was saved, but the broken part of the raft, with its hapless occupants, was swept away and lost sight of.

This sad event had naturally a very depressing effect on every one.

True, the portion of the raft which had broken away was large enough to sustain the unfortunates who were on it. Moreover, some of the provisions had also gone with them, so that there was hope of their holding out for a time and being picked up by a pa.s.sing ship, but the hope was slight, and in the event of rougher weather, their fate would be certain.

For six days and nights the raft was tossed about on the open sea. It could scarcely be said that it sailed, although as large a mast and piece of canvas as they could set up urged it slowly though the water when the wind was strong. As to steering, that was next to impossible, and in truth it did not matter much how they steered.

Constant exposure by night and by day now began to tell on the less robust of the crew. Little Polly, however, was not one of these. She possessed a naturally good const.i.tution, and was, besides, specially cared for by her father, who devoted all the powers of an inventive mind to the strengthening and improving of "the bower." In this he was ably a.s.sisted by Philosopher Jack, whose love for the child deepened daily as he watched the sweet contented manner with which she received every drenching--and she got many--and the anxious way in which she inquired for, and sought to help, those of the party whose health began to fail.

Among these latter was Ben Trench.

"Ah! Polly," said Ben one sultry forenoon when she brought him a gla.s.s of sweetened lime-juice and water, "you're a kind little nurse. I really don't know how I should get on without you."

"Upon my word," said little Wilkins, pouting, "you're a grateful fellow!

Here have I been nursing you all the morning, yet you seem to think nothing of that in comparison with Polly's gla.s.s of lime-juice."

"Come, Watty, don't be jealous," said Ben; "it's not the gla.s.s of lime-juice, but Polly's sympathetic face beaming behind it, that does me so much good. Besides, you know, Polly's a girl, and a girl is always a better nurse than a man; you must admit that."

Watty was not at all prepared to admit that, but his being spoken of as a man did much to mollify his hurt feelings.

"But I do hope you feel better to-day," said Polly, observing with some anxiety the short, half-breathless manner in which the invalid spoke.

"Oh yes! I feel better--that is to say, I think I do. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. You know, Polly, I came on this voyage chiefly on account of my health, and of course I must expect to be a little damaged by so much exposure, though your good father has indeed done his best to shelter me. Why, do you know, I sometimes think the berth he has made for me between the logs here is a greater triumph of his inventive genius than your bower. I often think they spoiled a splendid engineer when they made your father a sailor."

Polly laughed at this, and Watty Wilkins tried to laugh, just by way of keeping up his friend's spirits and being what Baldwin called good company; but poor Watty could not laugh. He had loved and played with Ben Trench since ever he could remember, and when he looked at his pale face and listened to his weak voice, a dread foreboding came over him, and brought such a rush of feeling to his heart that he was fain to leap up and spring to the farthest end of the raft, where he fell to hauling and tightening one of the rope-fastenings with all the energy of his little body and soul.

"Land ho!" shouted one of the men at that moment from the top of a cask, which formed the outlook, where, every day and all day, a man was stationed to watch for a sail or a sign of land.

An electric shock could not have produced greater excitement than these two words.

"Where away?" exclaimed the captain, leaping up beside the look-out.

"On the port-bow, sir,--there!" pointing eagerly.

"I don't see it--oh--yes--no. It's only a cloud. Who ever heard of the port-bow of a raft? Bah! your eyes have been squintin'. Not a bit of it, I see it--low lyin'; why, I see the palms--and I see the nuts--ah, and the monkeys, no doubt a-eatin' of 'em--hip, hip, hurrah!"

Such were some of the exclamations, ending in a long, deep-toned, British cheer, with which the discovery of land was greeted.

In a short time all uncertainty was removed, and the land was clearly made out to be a small coral island with its narrow outlying reef, and a few cocoa-nut palms waving thereon.

The joy of the shipwrecked crew was excessive--somewhat in proportion to their previous depression. They shook bands, laughed, cheered, and in some cases wept, while a few clasped their hands, looked up, and audibly thanked G.o.d.

"You'll soon get ash.o.r.e," said Polly, laying her hand on Ben Trench's arm.

"Ay, and the cocoa-nut milk will set you up and make you fat in no time," added Watty Wilkins.

"So it will," returned Ben, who had not risen like the others; "we'll have jolly times of it, won't we? Like Robinson Crusoe. Oh! how I wish that sister Susan was here! She would enjoy it so much. It's an island, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Edwin Jack, coming forward at the moment, "a coral island, with plenty of vegetation on it. So cheer up, Ben, we shall soon be ash.o.r.e."

Not so soon, however, as they expected, for the wind was light, although favourable, the raft was heavy, and the two oars had but little influence on it. The sun sank and rose again before they drew near to the reef. Inside the reef, between it and the island-sh.o.r.e, there was a lake or lagoon of calm water, but outside, on the reef itself, a heavy swell broke with continuous roar. To get involved in those giant breakers would have been destruction to the raft, and probably death to most of those on board. One narrow opening, marked by a few shrubs and palms on either side, formed the only portal to the calm lagoon. The captain himself took the steering oar, and summoned our philosopher to his a.s.sistance.

"Give way now, lads, with a will."

As many men as could grasp the two oars laid hold of them, and bent their backs till the strong wood cracked again. Gradually the raft neared the opening. As it did so the ground-swell began to act on it.

By degrees the towering billows--which seemed to rise out of a calm sea and rush to their destruction like walls of liquid gla.s.s--caught it, dragged it on a little, and then let it slip. At last one great wave began to curl in hissing foam underneath, caught the raft fairly, carried it forward on its boiling crest, and launched it with lightning speed into the opening. The s.p.a.ce was too narrow! One of the projecting spars touched the reef. Instantly the fastenings were rent like pack-thread, and the raft was hurled forward in disconnected fragments. One of these turned completely over with several men on it.

Another portion pa.s.sed through the opening and swung round inside. The steering oar was wrenched from Jack's hands, and struck the captain into the water. As if by instinct, Jack sprang to the "bower," caught Polly in his arms, and leaped into the sea. At the same moment Wilkins ran to the rescue of his friend Ben. These two were on the part that had swung round to the calm side of the reef, and Watty waded to it with Ben on his back. The captain and all the rest were washed in a cataract of foam and wreckage through the opening into the lagoon, and pitched by curling eddies on the sh.o.r.e. In a few minutes they all stood in safety, panting, but uninjured, on the white sands of the coral reef.

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE CORAL ISLAND--PROCEEDINGS THEREIN.

The island on which the raft with its occupants had been cast was of small size, not more than six miles in extent, and lay low in the water.

Nevertheless it was covered with luxuriant vegetation, among which were several groves of cocoa-nut palms, the long feathery branches of which waved gracefully in a gentle breeze, as if beckoning an invitation to the castaways on the reef to cross the lagoon and find shelter there.

But crossing the lagoon was not an easy matter.

"Shure it's a mile wide if it's a futt," said one of the men as they stood in a group on the reef, dripping and gazing at the isle.

"No, Simon O'Rook," said Bob Corkey, in that flat contradictions way to which some men are p.r.o.ne; "no, it's only half a mile if it's an inch."

"You're wrong, both of you," said Baldwin Burr, "it ain't more than quarter of a mile. Quite an easy swim for any of us."

"Except my Polly," observed the captain quietly.

"Ay, and those who are too weak to swim," said Watty Wilkins, with a glance at his friend Ben, who had lain down on the sand and listened with a calm untroubled look to the conversation.

"You don't seem at all anxious," whispered Polly to Ben.

"No, Polly, I'm not. I have lately been taught how to trust in G.o.d by your example."

"By mine!" exclaimed the child in extreme surprise.

Before Ben could reply the captain turned and called to Polly.

"Come here, my duckey; Edwin Jack offers to swim over the lagoon to the island with you on his back. Will you trust yourself to him?"

"Yes, father," answered the child promptly.

"But maybe there are sharks," suggested O'Rook.

There was a momentary silence. In the excitement of the occasion every one had forgotten sharks. What was to be done? The raft was utterly destroyed. Only a few of the logs which had formed it lay on the reef; the rest were floating on the lagoon at various distances, none nearer than fifty yards.

"There's nothing for it, then, but to reconstruct our raft," said the captain, throwing off his coat and shoes; "so these logs must be secured."