The Secret of the Reef

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The Secret of the Reef Page 4

by Harold Bindloss


  CHAPTER IV--THE ISLAND

  On a gray afternoon, with a fog hovering over the leaden water, theysighted the island where the wreck lay. What wind there was blew astern,but it had scarcely strength enough to wrinkle the long heave thatfollowed the sloop; the tide, Jimmy computed, was at half flood. Thiswas borne out by the way a blur on their port hand grew into a tongue ofreef on which the sea broke in snowy turmoil, and by the quickness withwhich the long, gray ridge behind it emerged from the fog. Sweeping itwith the glasses, Jimmy could distinguish a few dark patches that lookedlike scrub-pines or willows. Then, as she opened up the coastline, henoticed the strip of sloppy beach sprinkled with weedy boulders, and thebare slopes of sand and stones beyond. The spot was unlike the islandsat which they had called on their way up; for they were thickly coveredwith ragged firs and an undergrowth of brush and wild-fruit vines; thishad a desolate, forbidding look, as if only the hardiest vegetationcould withstand the chill and savage winds that swept it.

  The men were all somewhat worn by the voyage, which had been long anddifficult. Their clothes were stiff with salt from many soakings, andtwo of them suffered from raw sores on wrists and elbows caused by therasp of the hard garments. Their food had been neither plentiful norvaried, and all had grown to loathe the sight of fish.

  "I've seen more cheerful places," Bethune declared, when Jimmy hadhanded him the glasses. "I suppose we bring up under its eastern end?"

  Moran nodded.

  "Pretty good shelter in the bight in about two fathoms. Watch out tostarboard and the reef will show you where she is."

  Jimmy turned his eyes in that direction, but saw nothing for a minute.Then the swell, which ran after them in long undulations nearly assmooth as oil, suddenly boiled in a white upheaval, and a cloud of finespray was thrown up as by a geyser.

  "One can understand the old steamboat's breaking her back," he said."Where's she lying?"

  "Not far ahead; but by the height of the water on the beach, there'll benothing to be seen of her for the next nine hours."

  "And it will be dark then!" Bethune said gloomily. Jimmy shared hiscomrade's disappointment. After first sighting land they had felt keensuspense. There was a possibility that the wreck had broken up or sunkinto the sand since Moran had visited her; and, after facing manyhardships and risks to reach her, they must go back bankrupt if she haddisappeared. The important question could not be answered until the nextday.

  "Couldn't we bring up here and look for her in the dory when the tidefalls?" Jimmy suggested.

  "It sure wouldn't be wise. When you get your anchor down in the bightyou're pretty safe; but two cables wouldn't hold her outside when thesea gets up--and I don't know a place where it blows oftener."

  "Then you had better take her in. I can't say that we've had much luckthis trip; and we've been a fortnight longer on the way than Icalculated. It will be something to feel the beach beneath our feet."

  They ran into a basin with gray rocks and stones on its landward side,and a shoal on which the surf broke to seaward; and, soon after droppinganchor, they rowed ashore.

  The island appeared to be two miles long, and nothing grew on it excepta few patches of scrub in the hollows of its central ridge; but it had,as Moran pointed out, two springs of good water. Birds screamed abovethe surf and waded along the sand, and a seal lolled upon a stony beach;but these were the only signs of life, and the raw air rang with thedreary sound of the sea.

  When dusk crept in they went back on board, and with the lamp lightedthe narrow cabin looked very cozy after the desolate land; butconversation languished, for the men were anxious and somewhatdepressed. Daylight would show them whether or not their work had beenthrown away. With so much at stake it was hard to wait.

  "As soon as we've found if she's still on the bank," Moran said, as theywere arranging their blankets on the lockers, "we'll get out the net andall the lines we brought; then I guess we had better keep the divingpump in a hole on the beach."

  "I suppose we must fish and save our stores," Jimmy agreed; "though theworst beef they ever packed in Chicago would be a luxurious change. Butwhat's your reason for putting the pump ashore?"

  Moran was not a humorous man, but he smiled.

  "Well," he said, "we certainly haven't a lien on the wreck, and if itwas known where she's now lying, we'd soon have a steamboat up fromPortland or Vancouver with proper salvage truck. This island's off thetrack to the Alaska ports; but, so far's my experience goes, it's whenyou least want folks around that they turn up."

  "He's right," Bethune declared. "There's no reason why we should makeour object plain to anybody who may come along. I don't know much aboutthe salvage laws, but my opinion is that the underwriters would treat usfairly if we brought back the gold; and if we couldn't come to termswith them, the courts would make us an award. Still, there's need forcaution; we have nobody's authority, and might be asked why we didn'treport the find instead of going off to get what we could on the quiet."

  They went to sleep soon after this, and awakening in a few hours, founddawn breaking; for when the lonely waters are free from ice there isvery little night in the North. A thin fog hid the land, leaving visibleonly a strip of wet beach, and there was still no wind, which Moranseemed to consider somewhat remarkable. As the tide was falling, Jimmysuggested that they should launch the dory and row off at once to lookfor the wreck; but Moran objected.

  "It's a long pull, and we don't want to lose time," he said. "S'pose wefind her? We couldn't work the pump from the boat, and we'd have to comeback for the sloop. You don't often strike it calm here, and we have toget ahead while we can."

  The others agreed; and after a hurried breakfast they hove the anchorand made a start, Moran sculling the _Cetacea_, Jimmy and Bethune towingher in the dory. They found the towing hard work, for stream and swellset against them and the light boat was jerked backward by thetightening line as she lurched over the steep undulations. Then, inspite of their care, the line would range forward along her side as shesheered, and there was danger of its drawing her under. Though the airwas raw, they were bathed in perspiration before they had made half amile; and Bethune paused a moment to cool his blistering hands in thewater.

  "This kind of thing is rather strenuous when you're not used to it," hegrumbled.

  Jimmy was glad of a moment's rest; but immediately there came a cry fromMoran. "Watch out! Where you going to?"

  Looking round, they saw the _Cetacea's_ bowsprit close above their headsas she lurched toward them on the back of a smooth sea. Pulling hard,with the hampering rope across her, they got the dory round, andafterward rowed steadily, while their breath came short and the sweatdripped from them. It was exhausting work; but Bethune pointed out thefact that they had not embarked on a pleasure excursion.

  At last Moran dropped anchor; and, boarding the sloop, the men spent anhour of keen suspense watching the sea. The island had faded to a faint,dark blur, and all round the rest of the circle an unbroken wall of mistrested on the smoothly lifting swell. None of them had anything to say;they smoked in anxious silence, their eyes fixed on the glassy waterwhich gave no sign of hiding anything below.

  Bethune impatiently jumped up.

  "This is too tedious for me!" he exclaimed. "Can't we sweep for thewreck from the dory with the bight of a line?"

  "You want to keep fresh," Moran warned him. "If she's there, she'll showup before long."

  They waited, Jimmy quietly glancing at his watch now and then; and atlast Moran stretched out a pointing hand.

  "What's that, to starboard?" he asked.

  For a few moments, during which the tension set their nerves on edge,the others saw nothing; and then a faint ripple broke the glassy surfaceof the swell. It smoothed out and the long heave swung undisturbedacross the spot for a time; but the ripple appeared again, with a darkstreak in the midst of it.

  "Weed!" cried Bethune. "It must grow on something!"

  "I guess so," said Moran. "It's fast to a ship's timber."

&
nbsp; Five minutes later the head of the timber was visible, and in keen butsilent excitement they took out a line to it and hove the sloop closeup. The diving pumps were already rigged, and when they had lowered andlashed a ladder, Moran coolly put on the heavy canvas dress. He saidthat, as the show was his, he would go down first. It was with gravemisgivings that his companions screwed on the copper helmet and hung thelead weights about him, for neither of them knew anything about the workexcept what they had learned from a pamphlet issued by a maker of divingapparatus. This they had diligently studied and argued over on thevoyage up, but there was the unpleasant possibility that it might notcontain all the information needful, and a small oversight might havedisastrous consequences.

  When the copper helmet sank below the surface and a train of bubblesrushed up, Jimmy felt his heart beat and his hand grow damp withperspiration. He held the signal line and knew the code, as well as thenumber of strokes to the minute that should give air enough; but he hadnot much confidence in the pumps. Though he had had to pay a heavydeposit on them, and their hire was costly, they were far from new. Thebubbles moved, however, drawing nearer the weed-crusted wood.

  Suddenly the line jerked, and Bethune looked at Jimmy sharply.

  "More air!" he cried. "Give her a few more revolutions--he's all rightso far."

  It was a relief to both when the bubbles moved back toward the ladder,and when the diver crawled on board they eagerly unscrewed the helmet.Moran gasped once or twice and wiped his face before he turned to them.

  "It's not too bad after the first minute or two," he said, and this wasthe only allusion he made to his sensations. "Now, so far as I can makeout, there's no getting into her from the deck. Poop's badly smashed,and you'd certainly foul the pipe or line among the broken beams; but itlooks pretty clear in the hold. Guess we'll have to break through theafter bulkhead; but it's sanded up and there's a pile of stuff to move.You're sure about the strong-room, Bethune?"

  "I took some trouble to find out, and was told it was under the poopcabin. I couldn't get a plan of her."

  "We'll try the bulkhead." Moran turned to Jimmy. "If you're going next,take the shovel and see if you can shift some of the sand."

  Jimmy was not a timid man, but he felt far from happy as his comradesencased him in the dress and helmet. He found them an intolerable weightas he moved toward the ladder and went down it, clinging tightly to therungs, and then, as a green mist crept across the glasses, he wasconscious of an unnerving fear. Struggling with it, he descended, andwas next troubled by a pain in his head and an unpleasant feeling ofpressure. Something throbbed in his ears, his breathing did not seemnormal, and he stopped, irresolute, at the foot of the ladder. He couldsee a short distance, but it was like looking through dirty, greenishglass, and the wavering light had puzzling reflections in it. He watchedthe air globules rush to the surface and the shadow of the sloop'sbottom move to and fro; and then he fixed his eyes on a badly defineddark object which he supposed was the wreck.

  As he reluctantly let go the ladder he was surprised by another change.Instead of carrying a crushing weight, he felt absurdly light and, inspite of his weighted boots, it was difficult to keep his balance. Hisfeet did not fall where he intended, and when he moved the shovel hecarried, the motion of his arm was not perfectly controllable. It seemedto him that if the stream were strong, he must hopelessly float away;but he resolutely pulled himself together. He had not spent all hismoney and made a daring voyage to be daunted by a few unusualsensations. It was his business to break into the wreck; and he made hisway cautiously toward her. Stopping at the place where her after-halfhad broken off, he saw in front of him a dark cavern, edged with raggedplanking and parted timbers and garlanded with long streamers of weed.They uncoiled and wavered as the sea washed in and out, and Jimmy felt astrong reluctance to enter. The darkness might hide strange anddangerous creatures; for a few moments he allowed his imagination to runriot like that of a frightened child.

  This, however, must be stopped. Jimmy remembered that he was suppliedwith an electric lamp. He fumbled clumsily with the switch, and, as awavering beam of light ran through the water, he cautiously entered thehold. Sand had filled up the hollows among the stone ballast, and therewas only a broken orlop beam in his way. He began to feel easier,reflecting that he was, after all, only a short distance beneath thesurface; though he would have preferred more experienced assistants atthe pumps. Making his way aft beside the shaft tunnel, he presentlyreached a bank of sand which ran up to the splintered deck. The bulkheadshutting off the lazaret was obviously behind it, and Jimmy began to usethe shovel.

  It proved difficult work. A vigorous movement upset his unstableequilibrium, and he wondered whether the weight he carried and thepressure applied were adapted to the depth. This could be ascertainedonly by experiment; and Jimmy feared to make it. Gripping himself,however, he removed a few shovelfuls of sand; and then the pain in hishead got worse, and, driving in the shovel deeper than before, he fellforward with the effort. Instead of coming to the ground, he made someridiculous gyrations before he recovered his footing; and then thesignal line, which he felt at to reassure himself, seemed tauter than itshould be.

  Grabbing up the shovel, Jimmy commenced his retreat. The line might befoul of something, and if so there was a danger of the air pipe'sentanglement. It was disconcerting to contemplate the result of that.When he left the hull he felt a strong inclination to kick off hisleaded shoes and try to swim to the surface instead of slowly mountingthe ladder; but he conquered it and climbed up.

  When at last the glasses were unscrewed and the air flowed in on hisface, Jimmy was conscious of intense relief. For a minute he sat limplyon the cabin top.

  "I dare say we'll get accustomed to the thing," he said slowly toBethune; "but you'll find out that one mustn't expect to do much atfirst."

  Bethune went down, and when he came up Moran asked him dryly:

  "How much of that sand did you shift?"

  "Three good bucketfuls, which I imagine is more than Jimmy did," Bethuneanswered with a grin. Then his face grew serious. "As there seems to beforty or fifty tons of it, we'll have to do better."

  "That," agreed Moran, "is a sure thing."

  They were silent after this, and Jimmy lighted his pipe. Though the daywas chilly, it was pleasant to lie on the open deck and breathe air atnormal pressure. The stream was not strong, the sea was as smooth as hethought it likely to be, and all the conditions were favorable to thework; but he shrank from going down again, and he imagined that hiscompanions shared his unwillingness. Though he censured himself forfeeling so, he was glad when the mist, which had grown thinner, suddenlystreamed away and revealed a dark line advancing toward them across theheaving water.

  "A breeze!" he exclaimed. "Perhaps we'd better get back while we can.There won't be much water up the channel at lowest ebb."

  Bethune nodded agreement as a puff of cold air struck his face, andwhile they shortened in the cable small white ripples splashed againstthe bows. These grew larger and angrier as they ran the mainsail up;and, getting the anchor, they bore away for the bight with the swellcrisping and frothing astern. Before they ran in behind the shelteringsands it was blowing hard, and they spent the rest of the day loungingon the cabin lockers, while the sloop strained at her cable and thehalyards beat upon the mast.

 

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