CHAPTER XXXVI.
Drifted to Sea.--A Perilous Position.--Rescue.
The next day Bell went off to Yarmouth to sell some of the fowl in themarket, and unfortunately got fuddled, so that when the evening came hewas unable to accompany the shooters. Frank and Jimmy resolved to go outby themselves. Making a mistake as to the time of the tide, they foundthemselves carried swiftly down Breydon Water on a tide which had yetfour hours to ebb. The night was clear, cold, and starlit, with astinging north-easter sweeping over the broad water, and whisking thesnow on the land into fantastic drifts. The new moon had not yet risen,but every star was blazing brightly, and glimmering reflections shone inthe water. As they listened they found that the night was full ofstrange noises, of quackings and whistlings, and that the air was cleftby the sweep of wings. It was a night of nights for a wild-fowl shooter,and the boys resolved to stop at Yarmouth until the tide turned. As theyneared the twinkling lights of the town a flock of wild geese took wing,out of shot, and made for the estuary.
"Oh, do let us follow them, they are sure to alight before they reachthe bar," said Frank.
"Very well; but we must take care not to drift out to sea."
"There is no danger of that, we can always run ashore."
So they passed by the quays and fish-wharves, and one by one the lightsopened out, and passed behind them, resolving themselves into a clusterin the distance. Ghostly vessels lifted their tall spars against thesky, the water became more 'lumpy,' and prudence suggested that theyshould turn back; but the love of sport urged them on, and triumphed.Further still: yet the geese were nowhere to be seen, and not very faroff was the white water on the bar. They were fast drifting out to sea,and thought it time to turn. They did so, but could make no headwayagainst the wind and tide, and the shores were so white with surf thatit would have been folly to have attempted to land.
"I say, Frank, we've done it now," said Jimmy, as they drifted nearerand nearer to the bar.
"Don't be alarmed: we are all right," said Frank,--but privately hethought they were in a very awkward fix. All the outward-bound vessels,which, had it been earlier, might have picked them up, had left at thecommencement of the ebb. The punt was now in the midst of the rougherwaves which broke over the banks of sand at the mouth of the estuary,and they were expecting every moment to be swamped, when Frank uttered acry of joy, and seizing the paddle, made for a black spot which wasdancing about in the foam. It was a buoy, and Jimmy seized the'painter,' and stood up. As they neared it, a wave bore them on itssummit within reach. Jimmy succeeded in slipping the rope through thering on the top of the buoy, and in another moment they had swung underits lee. They were now safe from drifting farther out to sea, but inimminent danger of being swamped, and the time seemed very long whilewaiting for the tide to turn. The curling waves continually broke overthem, and had it not been for the decked portions of the punt they wouldhave been sunk by the first two or three duckings. As it was, they werekept hard at work baling with a tin scoop belonging to the punt, andfending off from the buoy.
Forwards and backwards, up and down and sideways, they were tossed. Agreat black wall of water, with a thin crest through which the glimmerof a star could occasionally be seen, would come surging along, makingtheir hearts sink with apprehension, and then would sometimes break anddie away close by, sometimes dash them against the buoy, and sometimeswith a side chop nearly fill the punt. There was a dash of excitementabout it all which made it not absolutely unpleasant, as long as the skyremained clear and they could see the stars, which seemed to laugh attheir puny battle with the elements. But by and by the stars began todisappear in the direction of the wind, and finally were blotted outover the whole heavens by a huge pall of cloud, and the darkness becameawfully oppressive. The wind dropped, and its roar subsided into a lowmoaning sound. They felt the cold intensely as the snow came downquickly and silently, covering them with a white coating. A blackcormorant suddenly appeared hovering over them, to be driven away withthe paddle, and they could hear the swoop of gulls about them.
"We are not quite food for the birds yet; but I can't stand this muchlonger," said Jimmy, his teeth chattering with the cold.
"Hold up, old man. The tide will turn in half an hour."
There was the sound of a sudden snap. The rope had parted, and areceding wave bore them away, leaving a rapidly widening distancebetween them and the buoy.
"Keep her head to the waves," said Frank, "or we shall be upset."
At this critical moment the sky cleared in one patch, and against itthey saw the outlines of the dark, square sails of a schooner. The boyshailed her long and loud, and in answer came the hoarse cry, "Whereaway?"
"Here, on your weather bow. Fling us a rope!"
In a few minutes they and their punt were safe on board, and in anotherhour they were in an hotel at Yarmouth, dressed in borrowed suits ofclothes, and enjoying a hot supper.
After this, and when their own clothes were dried by the kitchen fire,they walked back to the Berney Arms by road, reached the yacht aboutthree o'clock in the morning, to the great relief of Dick, who had beenvery anxious at their protracted absence.
The next day they sailed down to Yarmouth in the _Swan_, picked up thepunt, and went up the Bure with sheets eased out and a following wind.