Cormorant Crag Part 39

"This is grand," said Vince, as they drew nearer. "Why, it's as easy as can be, and any one might have done it if they'd thought of coming here.

I say, isn't it deep? This is a regular channel, and I shouldn't be surprised if it takes us straight to the way in, for it's perfectly plain that it can't be out there. No boat could get in--big or little."

"Yes, this seems to be right," said Mike. "See any rocks?"

"Only outside, and they keep off the tide. I say, Mike, there ought to be some good fis.h.i.+ng here. I wonder n.o.body comes."

"Look!" cried Mike; "that is the ridge of rocks we can see across the cove."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's so covered with cormorants and gulls. Then there ought to be an opening somewhere a bit farther--"

"Look out, Mike! Starboard!--hard, or we shall be on that great snag."

As he spoke Vince seized the sail and swung it across, so as to send the boat upon another tack, and as he did so there was a jerk which nearly threw them overboard, a strange sc.r.a.ping, jarring sensation, and the boat's head was swung round, and she was borne rapidly along once more by the current which they had experienced before.

For the fierce race suddenly swept about the rock they had grazed, catching the boat and treating it as if it had been a cork, leaving the boys to devote all their energies to steering, to avoid the rocks which studded their course.

"Just the same game over again," said Vince, "only we're about a hundred yards nearer in, and the rocks are closer together."

Their experience of half an hour before was being repeated, but with added perils in the shape of larger rocks, while, to make matters worse, water was rapidly rising in the boat, one of whose planks had been started when they struck.

Vince was seaman enough to know what to do, and, warning his companion to keep a sharp look-out ahead, he took off his jacket, and then dragged the jersey s.h.i.+rt he wore over his head. Kneeling in the bottom of the boat, he proceeded to stuff the worsted garment into a jagged hole, through which the clear water came bubbling up like some spring.

Mike had glanced at the bubbling water once, and shuddered slightly; but he did not speak then, for there was a great rock right in front, towards which the boat was rus.h.i.+ng, with the sail well-filled, and having the leeward gunwale low down by the surface.

But Mike did not even wince. The current was racing them along, while the wind was fresher now, and as the boy pressed down the blade of the oar he could feel that the boat was fully under his control--that it was like some great fish of which he was the tail, and that he had only to give one good stroke with the oar blade to send the prow to right or left as he willed.

And, as Vince patted and stuffed the woollen jersey as tightly as he could into the place where the water rushed up, Mike sat fast, till with a rush they glided by the dangerous rock, and the boy strained his eyes to catch the next danger.

Nothing was very near, and he spoke.

"Will she sink, Cinder?" he said; and it seemed a long time, in his terrible anxiety, before his companion spoke.

"No. There's a lot of water in, but if you can look out and steer, I can hold the sheet and bale."

He handed the sheet to Mike, crept forward, opened the locker in the bows, and took out an old tin pot kept for the purpose, crept back and took the sheet again, as he knelt down in the water and began to bale, scooping it up, and sending it flying over the side, but without seeming to make much impression.

"Another rock," said Mike.

"All right; you know how to pa.s.s it," said Vince, without ceasing his work, but sending the water flying to leeward; and for the next quarter of an hour he did not cease--not even turning his head when they went dangerously near rock after rock.

It was only when, with a deep, catching sigh, Mike said that the current did not seem so strong, that he looked up and saw that the rocky point of the island was nearly a couple of miles away.

"Which way shall I steer?" said Mike; and Vince stood up to take in their position.

"If we go round the point with the tide we shall have to fight against the wind and the current that sets along the west sh.o.r.e," he said.

"That won't do. We must go back the way we came."

"What, against that mill race?" cried Mike in dismay.

"No: couldn't do it. We must stand out more to sea."

"Out to sea!" cried Mike, aghast: "with the boat filling with water?"

"Well, we can't go the other way. Besides, if we did old Joe would see us pa.s.s by, and there'd be a row."

"Well, he must know. He'll see the hole in the bottom,--if we get back," Mike muttered to himself. "But, Vince," he cried, "hadn't we better run ash.o.r.e somewhere?"

"Yes: where's it to be?" said the boy, with a curious laugh. "Nonsense!

We should only sink her at once. There, I must go on baling. It's the only thing we can do, Mikey. Turn her head to it, and run right across the tide. It's getting slacker here. Keep her head well to it. I won't let her sink."

Mike groaned.

"Hullo!" cried Vince cheerily, "is it hard work?"

There was no reply, but the boat careened over as from the fresh pressure of the oar the sail caught the full force of the wind, and they began to run swiftly towards the south-east, right out to sea, but with the intent of running back after reaching well out to south of the island.

It seemed like madness, with the boat leaking as she did, but Vince was right. It was their only chance; and after a few minutes he said, as if to himself:

"I'm going to do a stupid thing. I ought to hold that sheet in my hand, but I want both for baling. Be on the look-out, Ladle. Mind you throw her up in the wind if she goes over too much."

As he spoke he made the sheet fast, rolled up his sleeves, and, taking the pot in both hands, began to make the water fly over the side.

"I say, Ladle," he cried, "when I'm tired you'll have to take a turn; but don't she go along splendidly with all this water ballast in her?"

"Yes," said Mike huskily. "Are you getting it down?"

"Yes, a little. Not much; but if you sail her well we shall run in all right."

"Aren't we going out too far to sea?"

"No; just right. Now, then, don't talk. I want all my breath for working."

Setting his teeth, the boy baled away, and by slow degrees lowered the water a good deal; but he could not cease for a moment, for it surged in through the leak, nor did he dare to push the jersey farther, for fear of loosening the plank more and making a bigger hole.

This went on for fully half an hour, with the island getting more and more distant, and Mike twice over asked if it was not time to make for the sh.o.r.e.

But Vince shook his head, after a glance back at the south point, and worked away at the baling.

"Now," he said suddenly, "I want to go on, but I'm getting slow. Be ready to jump into my place and scoop it out. I'll catch hold of the oar. Ready?"

"Yes."

"Now then."

The exchange was quickly effected, the water sent flying with more energy, and Vince pressed upon the oar as he rested himself, and sent the brave little boat faster through the sea.

"You're giving it to her too hard," remonstrated Mike, as the gunwale went down dangerously near the surface.