Jack at Sea Part 87

"But, Ned, this long low canoe can never weather the waves on the reef."

"It can, sir, or they wouldn't go for it. Tend upon it they know a place where they can get over, and that's how they came. What do it matter to them if she fills with water? they only pop out over both sides, and hold on and slop it out again, and then jump in. Water runs off them like it does off ducks' backs. I believe they oil themselves all over instead of using a bit of honest soap. Don't matter though; the dirt can't show. My word, we are going it. Straight for the reef."

Ned was right; the long canoe with its fifty men paddling glided over the calm lagoon straight for where the great billows came curving over on to the coral reef with a deep boom, and it was now not above a quarter of a mile away.

"Take tightly hold of the side, Ned," said Jack excitedly. "You are right, they will manage it, I suppose, or they would not attempt it."

"Trust 'em for that, sir. I'll stick to the canoe like one of those limpet things; mind you do too. I say, I'm beginning to like it, ain't you?"

"It is exciting, Ned, and I don't think I mind."

"That's your style, sir. That's the true British boy speaking. Ah, it's no wonder we carry all before us when we don't get licked. There now, you look every inch of you like Sir John, and he'd be proud of you.

Hooray! who cares! Go it, you black rascals. We shall go over that reef like a flash. One of our boats with a big crew dare not attempt it, and--Oh, I say, look, Mr Jack, look. You were wis.h.i.+ng for it, and there it is, half-a-mile away--one of our boats coming to save us, and--"

"She'll be too late, Ned," groaned Jack, and, unseen by their captors, every man of whom had his back to them, and was working away with his paddle, the lad rose softly in his place and waved his hand above his head.

"Sit down, sir," whispered Ned excitedly. "It means a topper if they catch you at it. But look, look, there's some one waving his helmet."

"Yes, yes," whispered back Jack, "it's father."

"Hooray!" said Ned softly. "But what are they firing for?"

"Signal that they see us, Ned," whispered back Jack hoa.r.s.ely, as there were two faint puffs of smoke seen and the reports followed.

"Too far off to try and swim to 'em, sir?"

"Yes, Ned," said Jack sadly, "and there are the sharks."

"Ugh! yes, sir. That won't do. Never mind, let's sit still. They've seen us, and they'll have us now."

"But our boat can't follow through the surf."

"Can't!" cried Ned; "it has to. Never know what you can do till you try."

The rush through the water had been exciting before; it was tenfold more so now, and the prisoners looked wildly over the lagoon at the cutter, which was being pulled after them evidently with all the rowers' might, the oars dipping and the water flas.h.i.+ng in the last rays of the sun as it dipped swiftly down. But Jack's heart sank again as he saw that they would be crossing the reef while the rescue party were still half-a-mile away.

Ned felt with him, and said softly--

"Oh, why don't they go back to the yacht and signal to 'em to get under weigh and go out in chase of us--cut us off on the other side?"

"But where is the yacht, Ned?" cried Jack. "She may be the other way."

"Ah, that's what we don't know, sir. There, we can't do anything but sit fast. You get your arm over that side, I'll hold on this."

There was little talking now, the two prisoners' attention being turned to the reef in front, which the paddlers were now straining every nerve to reach at full speed. Suddenly a couple of the blacks sprung up, came aft past where Jack and Ned sat, and thrust a long paddle over the stern to help in the steering, which so far had been managed by the paddlers themselves, one side easing when it was necessary.

The two men said something as they pa.s.sed, but took no more notice of them, and after looking sharply ahead for a few moments, Jack turned to gaze at the pursuing boat, coming on steadily now. But the next minute it looked dim, then it died out of sight, for the canoe had entered into the mist of fine spray raised by the billows on the reef, and directly after they were in a thick fog, as they rushed into the tremendous race of waters leaping and surging about them. The long canoe quivered, the men behind them yelled, and were answered by a fierce shout as the crew frantically plunged their paddles into the yielding foam water, while the spray blinded, the canoe b.u.mped again and again, and then all at once began to rise, till she seemed as if she were going to fall backward prow over stern.

"It's all over with us," thought Jack; but the next moment she began to sink toward the horizontal, hung for a second or two level, and then glided down after a tremendous pitch, rose again, and then began to race along on the top of a huge billow which foamed and raved hungrily by their side.

This was repeated again and again, but the canoe s.h.i.+pped very little water, and before Jack could realise that they were in safety, the wild excitement and confusion of the tumbling water was at an end, and they were being paddled away out to the open sea in the fast-coming transparent darkness of the brief evening, with a wall of white waters behind.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

A STERN CHASE--VERY.

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ned, as he sat wiping the salt spray out of his eyes; "can't say as I should like to go through that again, Mr Jack, but now we have done it I like it. My word, how I can brag now to our chaps on board!"

"Do you think they will try and follow us, Ned?" panted Jack, who spoke as if he had been running hard.

"Surely not, sir. Never be so mad."

"But I'm afraid they will. My father would never sit there and make no effort to save us."

Ned was silent for some minutes, and the foam of the breakers on the reef began to soften as the blacks paddled hard straight out to sea.

A few minutes later it was night, with the stars beginning to s.h.i.+ne out clearly from the purpling sky, and the paddles making the water flash into phosph.o.r.escent foam.

"You're right, Mr Jack," said Ned at last; "Sir John wouldn't mind running any risk to save us, but he might see that it was only throwing away a chance to get the boat capsized, and he may have to row back to the yacht so as to get her out of the lagoon and after us to cut us off before these black ruffians can get home to where they came from."

"It means slavery after all, Ned," said Jack bitterly. "Why didn't we jump overboard and--and try to swim to the boat?"

"What the doctor calls 'law of self-preservation,' sir," said Ned quietly. "We'd seen too much in that lagoon, very pretty to look at, but too many ugly things about in the blue waters. Been just about as mad as for them to try and follow the canoe. What do you say to making ourselves comfortable, sir, and having a nap?"

"What, now? At a time like this?" cried Jack.

"Yes, sir, that's what I was thinking, so as to be ready for work to-morrow."

"I could not sleep," said Jack sadly, as he sat gazing back in the direction of the reef.

"Very well, sir; then you take the first watch while I go below, only there ain't no below. It's of no use for you to look back at the reef, sir, for they couldn't have got through, and if they could this canoe goes two miles to their one. What we've got to do is to wait for to-morrow morning, and hope for the best."

Jack said nothing, but he knew that all his companion said was right, and he sat there silent, while Ned stretched himself in the bottom and was off soundly to sleep. Almost directly after about half the blacks withdrew the paddles from the water and lay down in the bottom, leaving the rest to urge the boat along.

It was hard work in the solitude of that night to keep from giving way to despair, and to cling to the hope that those in the boat had not attempted the daring feat performed with the canoe, but had turned back to the yacht to get her under weigh and come in chase. For always there came the thought that by morning the canoe would be out of sight, and he and Ned still on the way to some state of captivity, preserved for Heaven only knew what terrible fate.

From time to time the resting half of the savages sprung up, summoned by a thump given with the handle of a paddle, each rower awakening the man who was to relieve him after about an hour's spell; and Jack watched all this in a dull, apathetic way again and again, till somehow the long weary night sluggishly drew near its end. Over and over again an angry feeling of resentment attacked the watcher, and when the sleeping savages were aroused he felt disposed to kick Ned and make him wake up and talk.

But a better feeling soon prevailed. "Poor fellow!" he said to himself; "why shouldn't he rest and forget all his troubles for a few hours? It is only selfishness to rouse him."

It was still dark when Ned suddenly sat up. "Morning, sir," he said; "been to sleep?"

"I? No, Ned, I couldn't sleep."

"That's a pity. I could, like a top. It's done me a lot of good, and I'm ready now for anything, fighting, swimming, or breakfast, specially the last. Hot coffee, toast, fried ham, or a bit of fish. Not particular. Don't do to be when you're at sea."

"You don't seem to trouble much about our position, Ned," said Jack bitterly.