Cord and Creese Page 4

  CHAPTER IV.

  SINKING IN DEEP WATERS.

  Brandon, overwhelmed by the rush of waters, half suffocated, andstruggling in the rush of the waves, shrieked out a few despairing criesfor help, and sought to keep his head above water as best he could.But his cries were borne off by the fierce winds, and the ship as itcareered madly before the blast was soon out of hearing.

  He was a first-rate swimmer, but in a sea like this it needed allhis strength and all his skill to save himself from impending death.Encumbered by his clothes it was still more difficult, yet so fiercewas the rush of wind and wave that he dared not stop for a moment in hisstruggles in order to divest himself of his clothing.

  At first, by a mere blind instinct, he tried to swim after the ship,as though by any possibility he could ever reach her again, but thehurricane was against him, and he was forced sideways far out of thecourse which he was trying to take. At last the full possession of hissenses was restored, and following the ship no longer, he turned towardthe direction where that sand island lay which had been the cause of hisdisaster. At first it was hidden from view by the swell of wavesthat rose in front, but soon rising upon the crest of one of these heperceived far away the dark form of the coffin-shaped rock. Here thenbefore him lay the island, and toward this both wind and wave impelledhim.

  But the rock was far to the right, and it might be that the island didnot extend far enough to meet him as he neared it. It was about fivemiles in length, but in his efforts he might not be able to reach eventhe western extremity. Still there was nothing else to do but to try.Resolutely, therefore, though half despairingly, he put forth his beststrength, and struggled manfully to win the shore.

  That lone and barren sand-bank, after all, offered but a feeble chancefor life. Even if he did reach it, which was doubtful, what could hedo? Starvation instead of drowning would be his fate. More than once itoccurred to him that it would be better then and there to give up allefforts and let himself go. But then there came the thought of thosedear ones who waited for him in England, the thought of the villain whohad thrown him from the ship, and the greater villain who had sent himout on his murderous errand. He could not bear the idea that they shouldtriumph over him so easily and so quickly. His vengeance should not betaken from him; it had been baffled, but it still nerved his arm.

  A half hour's struggle, which seemed like many hours, had brought himmuch nearer to the island, but his strength was almost exhausted. Hisclothes, caught in the rush of the waves, and clinging to him, confinedthe free action of his limbs, and lent an additional weight. Anotherhalf hour's exertion might possibly bring him to the shore, but thatexertion hardly seemed possible. It was but with difficulty now thathe could strike out. Often the rush of the waves from behind wouldoverwhelm him, and it was only by convulsive efforts that he was able tosurmount the raging billows and regain his breath.

  Efforts like these, however, were too exhaustive to be long continued.Nature failed, and already a wild despair came over him. For a quarterof an hour longer he had continued his exertions; and now the island wasso near that a quarter of an hour more might bring him to it. Buteven that exertion of strength was now no longer possible. Faintly andfeebly, and with failing limbs and fiercely-throbbing heart, he toiledon, until at last any further effort seemed impossible. Before him wasthe mound which he had noticed from the ship. He was at the westernextremity of the island. He saw that he was being carried in such adirection that even if he did struggle on he might be borne helplesslypast the island and out into the open sea. Already he could look pastthe island, and see the wide expanse of white foaming waves whichthreatened to engulf him. The sight weakened what little strength wasleft, and made his efforts even feebler.

  Despairingly he looked around, not knowing what he sought, but seekingstill for something, he knew not what. In that last look of despair hiseyes caught sight of something which at once gave him renewed hope.It was not far away. Borne along by the waves it was but a few yardsdistant, and a little behind him. It was the hen-coop which the Captainof the _Java_ had thrown overboard so as to give Brandon a chance forlife. That last chance was now thrown in his way, for the hen-coop hadfollowed the same course with himself, and had been swept along not veryfar from him.

  Brandon was nerved to new efforts by the sight of this. He turned andexerted the last remnants of his strength in order to reach this meansof safety. It was near enough to be accessible. A few vigorous strokes,a few struggles with the waves, and his hands clutched the bars with thegrasp of a drowning man.

  It was a large hen-coop, capable of keeping several men afloat. Brandonclung to this and at last had rest. Every minute of respite from suchstruggles as he had carried on restored his strength to a greaterdegree. He could now keep his head high out of the water and avoid theengulfing fury of the waves behind. Now at last he could take a bettersurvey of the prospect before him, and see more plainly whither he wasgoing.

  The sand-bank lay before him; the mount at the western extremity was infront of him, not very far away. The rock which lay at the easternend was now at a great distance, for he had been swept by the currentabreast of the island, and was even now in danger of being carried pastit. Still there was hope, for wind and wave were blowing directly towardthe island, and there was a chance of his being carried full upon itsshore. Yet the chance was a slender one, for the set of the tide carriedhim beyond the line of the western extremity.

  Every minute brought him nearer, and soon his fate would be decided.Nearer and nearer he came, still clinging to the hen-coop, and makingno efforts whatever, but reserving and collecting together all hisstrength, so as to put it forth at the final hour of need.

  But as he came nearer the island appeared to move more and more out ofthe line of his approach. Under these circumstances his only chance wasto float as near as possible, and then make a last effort to reach theland.

  Nearer and nearer he came. At last he was close by it, but the extremepoint of the island lay to the right more than twenty yards. This wasthe crisis of his fate, for now if he floated on any longer he would becarried farther away.

  The shore was here low but steep, the waters appeared to be deep, and aheavy surf dashed upon the island, and threw up its spray far overthe mound. He was so near that he could distinguish the pebbles on thebeach, and could see beyond the mound a long, flat surface with thingrass growing.

  Beyond this point was another a hundred yards away, but farther out ofhis reach, and affording no hope whatever. Between the two points therewas an inlet into the island showing a little cove; but the surf justhere became wilder, and long rollers careered one past another overthe intervening space. It was a hopeless prospect. Yet it was his lastchance.

  Brandon made up his mind. He let go the hen-coop, and summoning up allhis strength he struck out for the shore. But this time the wind and seawere against him, bearing him past the point, and the waves dashed overhim more quickly and furiously than before. He was swept past thepoint before he had made half a dozen strokes; he was borne on stillstruggling; and now on his left lay the rollers which he had seen. Inspite of all his efforts he was farther away from the island than whenhe had left the hen-coop. Yet all hope and all life depended on theissue of this last effort. The fifteen or twenty minutes of rest and ofbreathing-space which he had gained had been of immense advantage, andhe struggled with all the force which could be inspired by the nearnessof safety. Yet, after all, human efforts can not withstand the fury ofthe elements, and here against this strong sea the strongest swimmercould not hope to contend successfully.

  "Never I ween was swimmer In such an evil case."

  He swam toward the shore, but the wind striking him from one side, andurging on the sea, drove him sideways. Some progress was made, butthe force of the waters was fearful, and for every foot that he movedforward he was carried six feet to leeward. He himself saw this, andcalculating his chances he perceived with despair that he was alreadybeyond the first point, and that at the present rate ther
e was nopossibility of gaining the farther point.

  Already the waves leaped exultingly about him, dashing over him nowmore wildly, since he was exposed more than before to their full sweep.Already the rollers lay close beside him on his left. Then it seemed asthough he would be engulfed. Turning his head backward with a lastfaint thought of trying to regain the hen-coop, so as to prolong lifesomewhat, he saw it far away out of his reach. Then all hope left him.

  He was now at the outermost line of rollers. At the moment that heturned his head a huge wave raised him up and bore him forward. Hestruggled still, even in that time of despair, and fought with hisenemies. They bore him onward, however, none the less helplessly, anddescending carried him with them.

  But now at last, as he descended with that wave, hope came back, and allhis despair vanished.

  For as the wave flung him downward his feet touched bottom, and he stoodfor a moment erect, on solid, hard sand, in water that scarcely reachedabove his knees. It was for a moment only that he stood, however, forthe sweep of the water bore him down, and he fell forward. Before hecould regain himself another wave came and hurled him farther forward.

  By a violent effort he staggered to his feet. In an instant hecomprehended his position. At this western end the island descendedgently into the water, and the shoal which it formed extended for milesaway. It was this shoal that caused the long rollers that came over themso vehemently, and in such marked contrast with the more abrupt waves ofthe sea behind.

  In an instant he had comprehended this, and had taken his course ofaction.

  Now he had foothold. Now the ground beneath lent its aid to hisendeavor; he was no longer altogether at the mercy of the water. Hebounded forward toward the shore in such a direction that he couldapproach it without opposing himself entirely to the waves. The pointthat stretched out was now within his reach. The waves rolled past it,but by moving in an oblique direction he could gain it.

  "HE STAGGERED UP A FEW PACES UPON THE SANDY DECLIVITY."]

  Again and again the high rollers came forward, hurling him up as theycaught him in their embrace, and then casting him down again. As he wascaught up from the bottom he sustained himself on the moving mass, andsupported himself on the crest of the wave, but as soon as his feettouched bottom again he sprang forward toward the point which nowbecame every minute more accessible. Wave after wave came, each was morefurious, each more ravenous than the preceding, as though hounding oneanother on to make sure of their prey. But now that the hope of lifewas strong, and safety had grown almost assured, the deathlike weaknesswhich but shortly before had assailed him gave way to new-born strengthand unconquerable resolve.

  At length he reached a place where the rollers were of less dimensions.His progress became more rapid, until at length the water becameexceedingly shallow, being not more than a foot in depth. Here the firstpoint, where the mound was, protected it from the wind and sea. This wasthe cove which he had noticed. The water was all white with foam, butoffered scarcely any resistance to him. He had but to wade onward to theshore.

  That shore was at last attained. He staggered up a few paces upon thesandy declivity, and then fell down exhausted upon the ground.

  He could not move. It was late; night came on, but he lay where he hadfallen, until at last he fell into a sound sleep.