King o' the Beach: A Tropic Tale

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  "Here's another coming," roared Bostock, hoarsely. "Back into shelter,or we shall be swept away."

  He set the example, still bearing the insensible boy, and the nextminute they had reached the comparative security of the saloon, wherethe water was now washing to and fro, coming in with a rush and pouringout again.

  The first efforts of the two men were now directed towards carefullyplacing Carey high and dry in an upper berth of one of the state-roomcabins, where a lamp was still burning steadily as it swung to and fro.

  "Hasn't killed him, has it, sir?" growled Bostock, excitedly, as thedoctor examined his patient.

  "No; he is breathing easily, and the bandages have not shifted," repliedthe doctor, who then turned upon his companion in misfortune and said ina hard, defiant way: "Well, my man, this seems hard luck; we're left inthe lurch. I suppose the captain will not come back to take us off."

  "Come back and take us off, sir?" said the old sailor, with a bitterlaugh. "Not him. He's got his work cut out to keep that barge afloat.Lord help 'em all, I say, all on 'em in those open boats. There theyare afloat among reefs and breakers in a storm like this. For aught weknow, sir, they're all capsized and washing about like so much chaff bynow."

  "Then you think we're better off than they are?"

  "No, I don't," growled the old man, sourly, as a wave came thunderingover the vessel, shaking it from bow to stern. "It won't be long beforeone of them breakers'll make a way in and bust up part of the deck; andafter that it won't be long before she's ripped in pieces. Lor' amussy! the power of a thousand tons o' water going miles an hour'sawful. Shreds beams into matches, and twists ironwork like wire. Itonly means a few minutes more to live, doctor; and, as you say, it doseem hard. Poor boy!" he continued, laying his great rough handtenderly on Carey's breast. "All his young life before him, and nippedoff sudden like this."

  "Poor boy, yes," said the doctor, gently. "But I'm thankful that he isquite insensible, and will not know the agony we have to face."

  The old sailor looked curiously in his companion's face.

  "Agony!" he said, slowly; "agony! Well, I suppose it is, but I've beenface to face with the end so many times that I suppose I've got a bitblunt. Do you know, sir, it seems to nip me more about that poor youngchap than it does about myself."

  The doctor looked at the speaker searchingly for a few moments, and thensaid, quietly:

  "Can we do anything to try and save his life, my man? Life-preservers,raft, or anything of that sort?"

  The old sailor laughed softly.

  "Life-preserver in a sea like this means being smothered in a fewminutes, and such a raft as we could make would be knocked to pieces andus washed off. No, sir; we're in shelter where we can die peaceably,and all we can do is to meet it like men."

  The doctor's brow knit, and he looked as if in horrible pain for a fewmoments. Then a calm, peaceful look came over his countenance, and hesmiled and held out his hand.

  "Yes," he said, quietly; "meet it like men."

  The old sailor stared at him for a moment, and then snatched and grippedthe extended hand in perfect silence.

  "Ha!" he ejaculated at last. "I feel better, sir, after that. Nowlet's talk about the youngster there."

  The huge breakers had kept on steadily thundering at the side of thesteamer, rising over her and crashing down on her decks with thegreatest regularity; but now, as the old sailor spoke and turned towardsthe insensible boy, it seemed as if a billow greater than any which hadcome before rolled up and broke short on the reef, with the result thatthe immense bank of water seemed to plunge under the broad side of thesteamer, lifting her, and once more they were borne on the summit of thewave with a rush onward. There was a fierce, wild, hissing roar, andthe great vessel seemed to creak and groan as if it were a livingcreature in its final agony, and old Bostock gripped the doctor's handagain.

  "It's come, my lad," he shouted, "and we'll meet it like men. We shallstrike again directly, and she'll go to pieces like a bundle of wood."

  The two men had risen to their feet, and to steady themselves they eachlaid the hand at liberty upon the berth which held their youngcompanion.

  How long they stood like this neither of them could afterwards havesaid, but it seemed an hour, during which the steamer was bornebroadside on by the huge roller, each listener in the deafening turmoiland confusion bracing himself for the shock when she struck, till therate at which she progressed began to slacken into a steady glide, thedeafening roar of breakers grew less, and at last she rode on and on,rising and falling gently, and with a slow rolling motion each minutegrowing steadier.

  But she did not strike.

  The doctor was the first to speak.

  "What does this mean?" he said, loudly, for the hissing and shrieking ofthe wind kept on.

  "The rollers have carried her right over the reef into one of they broadlagoons, or else into the quieter water on the lee of the rocks, sir.She mayn't strike now, only settle down, and sink in deep water."

  As he spoke there was a grinding sound, a sudden stoppage, the vesselhaving lifted a little and been set down with a great shock which threwthe two men heavily against the bulkhead of the cabin in which theystood, and extinguished the lamp.

  "We aren't in deep water, sir," roared Bostock, scrambling to his feet."Hold on; here we go again."

  For the great steamer was lifted and glided steadily on for a while, toground once more with a crashing sound.

  "That's scraping holes in her, sir," cried Bostock.

  Then again she lifted and was borne on, apparently hundreds of yards, togo crashing over the rough rocks again with a strange, deep, grindingsound which lasted for some moments, before they were at rest on nearlyan even keel.

  "Fast!" cried Bostock. "She'll never stir again, sir. Ground her wayall among the jagged coral rock, and she's held as fast now as a ship'sboat pitched in a sea o' spikes."

  Doctor Kingsmead made no reply for some little time, while the oldsailor waited in vain for him to speak.

  "Hurt, sir?" he cried at last.

  "No," was the reply, followed by a deep sigh but faintly heard in theroar of the wind.

  "Then I'll try if I can't get a light, sir, afore one of us is. Seemsnice to be still once more. Do you know, sir, as we may reckon as we'resaved?"

  "Yes," said the doctor, almost inaudibly; "but I can hardly believe ittrue."

  There was a clicking noise, and spark after spark of faintphosphorescent light across the black darkness.

  This was repeated again and again, but without further effect.

  "No go, sir," cried Bostock then. "Got my matches wet, sir. If I livesto get through this I'll allus keep 'em corked up in a bottle."

  There was another streak of light directly after, followed by a flashand a wax match burned brightly in the doctor's fingers, for those hecarried in a little silver box proved to be dry.

  "Ha!" ejaculated Bostock, reaching up to the lamp, which was slowlysubsiding from its pendulum-like motion. "I hate being in the dark,even if it's only a fog. You never know which way to steer."

  "Can you light the lamp?"

  "Yes, sir, all right, in a minute. Wick's got shook down. That'sbetter; give me hold, or you'll burn your fingers; mine's as hard ashorn. Well done; first go."

  For the wick caught and burned brightly, the glass was replaced, and thedoctor was able to examine his patient once more.

  "How is he, sir?"

  "Just the same," replied the doctor.

  "Well done; that's better than being worse, sir. And I say, it'sblowing great guns still, but nothing like what it was an hour ago.Dessay it'll pass over before long. Come and let's see what it's likeon deck."

  They went up together into a storm of blinding spray, which swept bythem with a hissing rush; but there were no raging billows striking thesteamer's sides and curling over in turns to sweep the deck, and,getting into shelter, they tried vainly to make out their posi
tion.

  They had no difficulty in stepping to the side of the saloon deck, forthere was no water to wade through, and the great vessel was as steadynow as if built upon a foundation of rock, and as soon as they had wipedthe spray from their eyes they tried hard to pierce the gloom.

  But in vain. It was not very dark, but there was a thick mist whichseemed to glow faintly with a peculiar phosphorescent light that washorribly weird and strange, and after a few minutes' effort they turnedto descend to the cabin again.

  "This won't last long, sir," shouted the old sailor in the doctor's ear;"these sort o' storms seldom do. Dessay it'll be all bright sunshine inthe mornin'. We're safe as safe, with the reef and the breakers farenough away, but the old _Chusan_ will never breast the waves again."

  "And all our friends?"

  "Don't talk about it, sir. They were in sound boats, well manned, andwith good officers to each, but--oh dear! oh dear!--the sea's hard todeal with in a storm like this."

  "Do you think, then, that there is no hope?"

  "Oh no, sir, I don't say that, for, you see, the waves didn't run high.They may weather it all, but where they're carried to by the wind andthe awful currents there are about here no one knows."

  "But are they likely to get back to us?"

  "Not a bit, sir. They don't know where we are, and they'll have theirwork cut out to find where they are themselves."

  "Have you any idea where we are--what shore this is?"

  "Hardly, sir. All I do know is that from the time the typhoon struck uswe must have been carried by wind and the fierce currents right away tothe west and south."

  "And that means where?"

  "Most like off the nor'-west coast o' 'Stralia, among the reefs andislands there. It's like it is on the nor'-east coast, a reg'lar coralsea.

  "Ha!" continued Bostock, when they were once more in shelter. "S'posewe take turn and turn now to watch young Master Carey. We're both wornout, sir. You take fust rest; you're worst."

  "No; lie down till I call you, my man."

  "Do you order me to, sir?"

  "Yes, certainly."

  "Well, sir, I can't help it; I'm dead-beat."

  The next minute the old sailor was down on the floor in his drenchedclothes, sleeping heavily, while, in thankfulness for the life whichseemed to have been given back when they were prepared to die, DoctorKingsmead watched by his patient's side, waiting for the cessation ofthe storm and the light of day, which seemed as if it would never come.