The Island Queen

The longer he looked, however, and the more he rubbed his eyes, the more convinced was he that a vessel was really in sight.

“Pauline,” he said at length, with suppressed emotion, as he gently shook her arm, “see, God has answered our prayers: a vessel is in sight!”

The poor girl raised herself quickly, with an exclamation of thankfulness, and gazed intently in the direction pointed out.

“It is, surely it is a ship,” she said, “but—but—don’t you think there is something curious about its appearance?”

“I have indeed been puzzled during the last few minutes,” replied Dominick. “It seems as if there were something strange under her, and her position, too, is rather odd.—Ho! Otto, rouse up, my boy, and look at the vessel coming to save us. Your eyes are sharp! Say, d’you see anything strange about her?”

Thus appealed to, Otto, who felt greatly refreshed by his good meal and long sleep, sat up and also gazed at the vessel in question.

“No, Dom,” he said at length; “I don’t see much the matter with her, except that she leans over on one side a good deal, and there’s something black under and around her.”

“Can it be a squall that has struck her?” said Pauline. “Squalls, you know, make ships lie over very much at times, and cause the sea round them to look very dark.”

“It may be so,” returned Dominick doubtfully. “But we shall soon see, for a squall won’t take very long to bring her down to us.”

They watched the approaching vessel with intense eagerness, but did not again speak for a considerable time. Anxiety and doubt kept them silent. There was the danger that the vessel might fail to observe them, and as their oars had been washed away they had no means of hoisting a flag of distress. Then there was the unaccountable something about the vessel’s appearance which puzzled and filled them with uncertainty. At last they drew so near that Dominick became all too well aware of what it was, and a sinking of the heart kept him still silent for a time.

“Brother,” said Pauline at last in a sad voice, as she turned her dark eyes on Dominick, “I fear it is only a wreck.”

“You are right,” he replied gloomily; “a wreck on a barren shore, too. Not a scrap of vegetation on it, as far as I can see—a mere sandbank. Currents are carrying us towards it, and have led us to fancy that the vessel was moving.”

He spoke with bitterness, for the disappointment was very great, and physical weakness had rendered him less able to bear it than he might otherwise have been.

“Don’t get grumpy, Dom,” said Otto, with a slightly humorous look that was peculiar to him—a look which had not lighted up his eyes for many days past.

“I won’t get grumpy,” returned Dominick with sudden energy, patting the boy’s head. “It is quite clear that a good feed and a long rest were all you required to set up your plucky little spirit again.”

“Dom,” said Pauline, who had been looking intently at the wreck, “is there not something like a line of white close to the wreck?”

“Ay, there is,” replied Dominick, his countenance again becoming grave; “it is a line of breakers, through which it will be very difficult to steer our little boat.”

“Steer, Dom,” exclaimed Otto, with a look of surprise; “how can you talk of steering at all, without oar or helm?”

“I must make one of the floor-planks do for both,” returned Dominick.

“I say,” continued the boy, “I’m horribly hungry. Mayn’t I have just a bite or two more?”

“Stay, I’m thinking,” replied the other.

“Think fast then, please, for the wolf inside of me is howling.”

The result of Dominick’s thinking was that he resolved to consume as much of their stock of provisions as possible in one meal, in order to secure all the strength that was available by such means, and thus fit them for the coming struggle with the surf. “For,” said he, “if we get capsized far from the shore, we have no chance of reaching it by swimming in our present weak condition. Our only plan is to get up all the strength we can by means of food. So here goes!”

He untied the bundle as he spoke, and spread the contents on his knees. Otto—who was, indeed, a plucky little fellow, and either did not realise or did not fear the danger that lay before him—commenced to eat with almost jovial avidity. Indeed, all three showed that they had benefited greatly by what they had already eaten, and now, for the first time during many days, consumed what they considered a full and satisfactory meal, while they drifted slowly but steadily towards the land.

As they neared it, the heavy mass on the horizon, which they had taken for a bank of clouds, became more distinct. A light haze cleared away and showed it to be an island, to which the sandbank formed a barrier reef; but any interest that might have been aroused by this discovery was absorbed by present anxiety, for the white and gleaming surf warned them that a serious and critical moment in their lives was fast approaching. Pauline was awed into silence, and even Otto’s countenance became gradually solemnised.

Chapter Two.

Wrecked on a Reef

The coral reefs, which in various shapes and sizes stud the Southern seas, are sometimes rendered almost unapproachable by the immense waves which fall upon them. Even in the calmest weather these huge breakers may be seen falling with prolonged roar on the beach. The lightest undulation on the sea, which might almost escape observation away from land, takes the form of a grand, quiet billow as it draws near to an islet or reef, and finally, coming majestically on, like a wall of rolling crystal, breaks the silence suddenly by its thunderous fall, and gives to the sands a temporary fringe of pure white foam.

To ride in on the crest of one such roller on a piece of board and leap upon the shore, is a feat peculiar to South Sea islanders, who are trained to the water from earliest infancy. To do the same thing in a small boat, without oars, without strength, without experience, almost without courage, is a feat that no South Sea islander would attempt, and the necessity for performing which might cause the hair of any islander’s head to stand on end.

That Dominick Rigonda’s hair did not stand on end, as he sat there with pale cheeks and compressed lips, was probably due to the fact that he had thrust his straw hat tightly down on his brows.

As the boat drew nearer to the reef, both Pauline and Otto had risen, in the strength of their hearty meal, and were now seated on the thwarts of the boat. Their brother had selected the thickest floor-plank, and cut it roughly into the form of an oar with a clasp-knife. He now sat with it over the stern, sculling gently—very gently, however, for he reserved the little strength that remained to him for the critical moment.

The undulations of the sea, which had rocked them hitherto so softly, had by that time assumed a decided form and force, so that the boat rose on the oily back of each billow that passed under it, and slid back into a watery hollow, to be relifted by each successive wave.

“You look very anxious,” said Pauline, clasping her hands on her knee, and gazing earnestly in her brother’s face.

“I cannot help it,” returned Dominick, curtly.

“Is our danger then so great?”

Dominick only half admitted that it was. He did not wish to alarm her, and tried to smile as he said that the struggle would be brief—it would soon be over.

“But tell me, where lies the danger?” persisted Pauline. “I do not quite see it.”

“‘Where ignorance is bliss,’ dear, ‘’tis folly to be wise,’” returned Dominick, with an unsuccessful effort to look more at ease.

“Nay, brother, but I am not ignorant that danger exists—only ignorant as to the amount and nature of it. Surely there cannot be much risk in pushing our boat through that white foam that lines the shore with so soft a fringe.”

“I should think not,” broke in the pert and inexperienced Otto; “why, Pina,” (thus he abridged his sister’s name), “there’s as much danger, I should think, in pushing through a tub of soap-suds.”

“Come, Dom,” returned the girl, “explain it to me; for if you don’t point out where the danger really lies, if you leave me in this state of partial ignorance, I shall be filled with alarm instead of bliss from this moment till we reach the shore.”

“Well, well, sister,” said Dominick, when thus urged; “if you must have it, I will explain.”

He went on to show that when the boat came near the shore the waves would grasp it, instead of letting it slip back; would carry it swiftly in on their crests, so that the great difficulty in such a case would be to keep the boat’s head pointing to the land, and if he failed to do so, they would infallibly be overturned and have to swim ashore.

“Well, that would be unpleasant, Dom,” said the ignorant, as well as innocent, Pauline, “but it would not matter much, for we can all swim—thanks to you for insisting on teaching us long ago.”

“We will try our best,” said Dominick, who thereupon relapsed into silence, wisely resolving to let his sister retain all the “bliss” of “ignorance” that was possible under the circumstances.

Indeed, there was not much more time for conversation, for the power of the waves was beginning to be felt by the little craft, and the clumsy oar did not act with as much precision or force as was desirable, while Dominick’s weakness rendered the steering difficult. Pauline now began to realise the danger somewhat more clearly from experience, and even Otto showed symptoms of surprise that amounted very nearly to alarm, as the boat at one point made a sudden rush on a wave-top as if it meant to try a race with it, and then as suddenly slipped back into the hollow behind, as if it had been disheartened, feeling that there was no chance.

At last they reached the point of greatest danger. The huge waves, as we have said, commenced out at sea in long, gentle undulations. Nearer the shore they advanced in the shape of glassy walls, one after another, like successive lines of indomitable infantry in time of war. Further in, the tops of these waves began to gurgle and foam, and gather real, instead of seeming, motion, as they rushed towards their fall. It was here that the boat showed symptoms of becoming unmanageable.

“Why, the water’s beginning to boil!” exclaimed Otto, in some anxiety.

“Hold on, boy, and keep quiet,” said his brother.

As he spoke, the water gurgled up, so that it seemed as if about to pour inboard all round. At the same time the boat made a rush shoreward as if suddenly endowed with life. Dominick struggled manfully to keep the stern to the sea. He succeeded, but in another moment the boat slipped back. It had not been fairly caught, and the wave passed on to fall with a roar like thunder a hundred yards or so ahead.