CHAPTER ELEVEN.
THE RETURNING TIDE.
To say that I awaited the result with confidence would not be at alltrue. Quite the contrary. Fear and trembling were far more thecharacteristics of my mind in that hour. Had I been allowed more timeto build my cairn--time to have made it high enough to overtop thewaves, and firm enough to resist them, I should have felt lessapprehension. I had no fear that the signal-staff would give way. Ithad been well proved, for there had it stood defying the storm as longas I could remember. It was my newly-raised cairn that I dreaded, bothits height and its durability. As to the former, I had succeeded inraising it five feet high, just within one foot of high-water mark.This would leave me to stand a foot deep in water, nor did I regard thatin the light of a hardship. It was not on this account I had suchuncomfortable imaginings. It was altogether a different thought thatwas vexing me. It was the doubt I entertained of the _faithfulness_ ofthis watermark. I knew that the white line indicated the height of thefull tide under ordinary circumstances, and that when the sea was calm,the surface would coincide with the mark; but only when it was deadcalm. Now it was not calm at that moment. There was enough of breezeto have raised the waves at least a foot in height--perhaps two feet.If so, then two-thirds, or even three-fourths, of my body would be underwater--to say nothing of the spray which would be certain to drivearound me. This, however, was still far less than I had to fear.Supposing that the breeze should continue to freshen--supposing a stormshould come on--nay, even an ordinary gale--then, indeed, the slightelevation which I had obtained above the surface would be of no avail;for during storms I had often observed the white spray lashing over thatvery reef, and rising many feet above the head of the signal-staff.
"Oh! if a storm should arise, then am I lost indeed!"
Every now and then was I pained with such an apprehension.
True, the probabilities were in my favour. It was the fair month ofMay, and the morning of that day one of the finest I had ever seen. Inany other month, a storm would have been more regular; but there arestorms even in May, and weather that on shore may seem smiling andbright, is, for all that, windy and gusty upon the bosom of the broadsea, and causes destruction to many a fine ship. Moreover, it did notneed to be a hurricane; far less than an ordinary gale would besufficient to overwhelm me, or sweep me from the precarious footing uponwhich I stood.
Another apprehension troubled me: my cairn was far too loosely puttogether. I had not attempted to make any building of the thing; therewas not time for that. The stones had been hurled or huddled on top ofone another, just as they dropped out of my hands; and as I set my feetupon them I felt they were far from firm. What if they should not proveenough so to resist the current of the returning tide, or the lashing ofthe waves? Should they not, then indeed I had laboured in vain. Shouldthey fall, I must fall with them, never again to rise!
No wonder that this added another to the many doubts I had to endure;and as I thought upon such a mischance occurring, I again looked eagerlyoutward, and ran my eyes in every direction over the surface of the bay,only, as on every other occasion, to meet with sad disappointment.
For a long time I remained in the exact position I had first assumed--that is with my arm thrown round the signal-staff, and hugging it as ifit were a dear friend. True, it was the only friend I had then; but forit an attempt to have built the cairn would have been vain. Even couldI have raised it to the full height, it is neither likely that it wouldhave stood the water or that I could have held my position upon it.Without the staff to hold on to, I could not have balanced my body onits top.
This position, then, I kept, almost without moving a muscle of my body.I dreaded even to change my feet from one stone to another lest themovement might shake the pile and cause it to tumble down, and I knewthat if once down, there would be no chance to build it up again. Thetime was past for that. The water all around the base of the staff wasnow beyond my depth. I could not have moved a step without swimming.
I passed most of the time in gazing over the water; though I did notmove my body, I kept constantly turning my neck. Now looking before,then behind, then to both sides, and the next moment repeating theseobservations, until I had scanned the surface for the fiftieth time,without sight of boat or ship to reward me. At intervals I watched thereturning tide, and the huge waves as they rolled towards me over thereef, coming home from their far wanderings. They appeared angry, andgrowled at me as they passed, as if to chide and scold me for beingthere. What was I, weak mortal, doing in this their own peculiar home--this ground that was the chosen spot for their wild play? I evenfancied that they talked to me. I grew dizzy as I watched them, andfelt as if I should swoon away and melt into their dark flood.
I saw them rising higher and higher, until they swept over the top of mycairn, and covered my feet resting on it; higher still and yet higher,till I felt them lipping against my knees. O! when will they stay?When will they cease to come on?
Not yet--not yet--higher! higher! till I stand up to the waist in thebriny flood, and even above that the spray washes around me--against myface--over my shoulders--into my mouth, and eyes, and ears--half-stifling me, half-drowning me! O merciful Father!
The water had reached its height, and I was almost overwhelmed by it;but with desperate tenacity of life I held out, closely clinging to thesignal-shaft. For a very long time I held on, and, had no changeoccurred, I might have been able to keep my place till the morning; buta change was near, and one that placed me in greater peril than ever.
Night came on; and, as if this had been a signal for my destruction, thewind increased almost to a gale. The clouds had been scowlingthroughout the twilight, as if threatening rain, which now fell intorrents--the wind, as it were, bringing the rain along with it. Iperceived that the waves were every moment rising higher, and one or twolarge ones now swept almost over me. So great was their strength that Iwas scarcely able to resist it, and came very near being swept away.
I was now full of fear. I saw that should the breakers grow larger, Icould not hold out against them, but must succumb. Even as they were,it was doubtful whether my strength would hold out.
The last great wave that struck me had somewhat altered my foothold uponthe stones, and it was necessary for me to recover it, or fix myselfstill better. For this purpose I raised my body a little by my arms,and was feeling about with my foot for the most elevated point of mybattery, when another huge wave came rushing along, and whipping both myfeet off the stones, carried them out from the shaft. I held on withboth arms, and for some moments hung almost horizontally upon the water,until the wave had passed. Then permitting my feet to drop down, I feltonce more for the support of the cairn. I touched the stones, but onlytouched them. As soon as a pound of my weight rested upon them, I feltthe cairn crumbling beneath my feet, as if it had melted suddenly away;and, no longer able to sustain myself, I glided down the staff, and sankafter the scattered pile to the bottom of the sea!