The Secret of the Reef

by Harold Bindloss

  CHAPTER XVII--THE STRONG-ROOM

  When Jimmy went on deck the next morning, fog hung heavily about theland and the slate-green sea ran with a sluggish heave out of belts ofvapor. The air felt unusually sharp and the furled mainsail glistenedwith rime. This was disturbing, because they must finish their work, orabandon it, before winter set in; but Jimmy reflected that it was someweeks too soon for a severe cold snap. While he watched the smoke fromthe stove funnel rise straight up in a faint blue line, he heard asplash of oars and Bethune appeared in the dory.

  "I took the water breaker off before you were up," he said as he camealongside. "There was ice on the pool. It struck me as a warning that wehad better lose no time."

  "That's obvious," returned Jimmy. "Hand me up the breaker. We'll get thepumps rigged first thing."

  Breakfast was hurried. The weather was favorable for work, and theycould not expect it to continue so. In an hour the sloop had been warpedclose to the wreck and Jimmy put on the diving dress. He was surprisedto feel the half-instinctive repugnance from going down which he thoughthe had got rid of; but this could not be allowed to influence him, andhe resolutely descended the ladder. In a few minutes he reached thewreck, and found one bilge deeply embedded; but the opposite side waslifted up, and a broad strip of planking had been torn away. Jimmy couldsee some distance into the interior, and his lamp showed that the streamhad washed out part of the sand which had barred their way to thebulkhead cutting off the strong-room. This had been strained by theworking of the wreck, and it seemed possible to wrench the beams loose.

  He attacked the nearest with his shovel, using force when he found apurchase, but the timber proved to be firmly mortised in. He lost countof time as he struggled to prize it out, and did not stop until he grewdistressed from the pressure. His heart was beating hard and his breathdifficult to get, but the beam still defied him. Making his way out ofthe hold, he stumbled forward toward the ladder; and when his comradesremoved his helmet on board the sloop, he sat still for a few moments torecover. It was inexpressibly refreshing to breathe the keen, naturalair. At last he explained what he had found below, and added:

  "My suggestion is that we bore out an opening for the saw; then we couldcut the stanchion through and prize the cross-timbers off."

  "The trouble is that we haven't a big auger," Bethune objected. "Youoften run up against a difficulty of the kind when you're using tools:the thing you want the most is the one you haven't got."

  "Mortise-chisel might do," said Moran. "How thick's the timber?"

  "Three or four inches. By its toughness I imagine it's oak orhackmatack."

  "Then, there's a big job ahead," grumbled Bethune; "and my experience isthat as soon as you drive a chisel into old work you come upon a spike.Unfortunately, we haven't a grindstone."

  "Quit your pessimism and find the chisel!" snapped Moran. "I'm goingdown."

  They watched the bubbles that marked his progress rise to the surface ina wavy line and then stop and break in a fixed patch. Rather sooner thanthey expected the bubbles moved back; and Moran looked crestfallen whenthey took off his diving dress.

  "Did you cut out much stuff?" Bethune asked.

  "No," said Moran, holding up the chisel; "this is what I did. Cameacross a blamed big spike at the second cut."

  Bethune giggled. Even Jimmy grinned. There was a deep notch in the edgeof the tool.

  "Your philosophy isn't much good," Moran said grumpily. "It helps you toprophesy troubles, but not to avoid them. We'll have to spend some timein rubbing that nick out."

  "I'll try the engineer's cold-chisel," Bethune replied. "With good luck,I might cut the spike."

  He took the tool and an ordinary carpenter's chisel down with him; andthe edge of the chisel was broken when he returned.

  "I've cut the spike, and dug out about an inch of the wood," hereported. "Why are you frowning, Jimmy?"

  "It looks as if we may spend a week over that timber. These confoundedpreliminaries sicken me!"

  "They're common." Bethune launched off into his philosophy. "If youundertake anything that's not quite usual, half your labor consists inclearing the ground; when you get at the job itself, it often doesn'tamount to much."

  "Chuck it!" Moran interrupted. "Jimmy, it's your turn."

  Jimmy stayed below as long as he could stand it, hacking savagely withbroken chisels at the hard wood, and scraping out the fragments withbruised fingers; then he came up and Moran took his place. It was tryingwork, and grew no easier when, by persistent effort, they made anopening for the saw. The tool had to be driven horizontally at anawkward height from the sand, and the position tired their wrists andarms. Still, the weather was propitious, which was seldom the case, andthey toiled on, until exhaustion stopped them when it was getting dark.Then Moran sent Bethune ashore to look for stones with a cutting grit,and they sat in the cabin patiently rubbing down the nicked tools, whilethe deck above them grew white with frost.

  It cost them two days to break the beam, and on the evening theysucceeded there was a sharp drop in the temperature.

  Jimmy was cooking supper when Moran called him up on deck and pointedseaward.

  "See that?" he said. "Seems to me we've got notice to quit."

  Searching the western horizon, where the sea cut in an indigo streakagainst a dull red glow, Jimmy made out a faintly glimmering patch ofwhite. Taking up the glasses, he saw that it was low and ragged, andfringed on its windward edge by leaping surf. This showed it was of somedepth in the water, and he recognized it as a floe of thick northernice.

  "Yes," he answered gravely; "we'll have to hurry now."

  They spent the next week attacking the bulkhead. Jimmy thought it wouldhave resisted them only that it had obviously been built in haste andhere and there the strengthening irons had wrenched away through theworking of the hull. They lost no time, but the work was heavy, andtried them hard.

  It was late in the afternoon, and blowing fresh enough to make divingrisky, when Jimmy prepared to go down for what he hoped would be thelast attempt; but stopping a few moments he looked anxiously about. Grayfog streamed up from seaward in ragged wisps, and the long swell hadbroken into short, white-topped combers, over which the sloop plungedwith spray-swept bows, straining hard at her cables as the flood tideran past.

  "We might hold on for another hour," Bethune said hopefully; butbreaking off he pointed out to sea. "That settles it," he added. "Ifit's any way possible, we must cut the bulkhead to-night."

  A tall, glimmering shape crept out of the fog about a mile away. It wasirregular in outline, and looked like a detached crag, except that itshone with a strange ghostly brightness against the leaden haze. It cameon, sliding smoothly forward with the tide, another mass which wassmaller and lower rocking in its wake; and then a third crept into sightbehind. The men gazed at them with anxious faces; then Jimmy held outhis hand for the helmet.

  "They'll ground before they reach us, but the sooner I get to work thebetter," he said.

  A bent iron plate hung from a tottering beam when he crawled up to theafter end of the hold, and he savagely tried to wrench it out with abar. The effort taxed his strength, but when he felt that he could keepit up no longer the timber yielded, and he fell forward into the gap. Itcost him some trouble to recover his balance, and while he crouched onhands and knees, the disturbed water pulsed heavily into the dark hole.Lifting his lamp, he saw that the floor was deep in sand; and out of thesand two wooden boxes projected. He found that he could not drag themclear, and it seemed impossible to remove them without some tackle, butin groping about he came upon a bag. It was made of common canvas, andhad been heavily sealed, though part of the wax had broken away, but onlifting it Jimmy found the material strong enough to hold its contents.

  He sat still for a moment or two, his heart beating with exultantexcitement. The sand was much deeper at the other side of the small,slanted room. He could not tell what lay beneath it; but he could seetwo boxes, and he held a heavy bag. Gold was worth about twen
ty dollarsan ounce, and value to a large amount would go into a small compass. Itlooked as if wealth were within his grasp.

  The effects of the continued pressure made themselves felt, and Jimmyhastily picked his way out of the hold. He had some trouble in gettingup the ladder, which swung to and fro, and when he reached the deck hesaw Moran busy forward, shortening cable. Bethune released him from hiscanvas dress, and lifted the bag.

  "You got in?" he cried.

  "Yes; here's a bag of gold. I saw two boxes, and expect there are othersin the sand."

  Bethune clenched his hand tight.

  "And we can't hold on! It's devilish luck, I say! She has dragged thekedge up to the stream anchor, and is putting her bows in. Still, I'mgoing to make a try."

  Glancing at the sea, Jimmy shook his head. The combers were gettingbigger with the rising tide and the sloop plunged into them viciously,flooding her forward deck, and jarring her cable.

  "No," he said. "I had trouble in reaching the ladder, and she might dragto leeward before you could get back. The thing's too risky."

  Moran, coming aft, felt the bag, and looked at the diving dress withlonging, but he supported Jimmy's decision.

  "I surely don't want to light out, but we'll have to get sail on her."

  Crouching in the spray that swept the bows, they laboriously hauled inthe chain with numbed and battered hands, and, leaving Bethune to hoistthe reefed mainsail, coiled the hard, soaked kedge warp in the cockpit.Then they set the small storm-jib, and the _Cetacea_ drove away beforethe sea for the sheltered bight.

  "We'd have known how we stood in another hour," Bethune grumbled,shifting his grasp on the wheel to ease his sore wrist.

  They were too tensely strung up to talk much after supper, for theweight of the bag was sufficient to indicate the value of its contents,and they thought it better not to break the seals. Jimmy grew drowsy,and he had lain down on a locker when Moran opened the scuttle-hatch.

  "Now that it's too late to dive, the wind's dropping and coming off theland," he said.

  Jimmy went to sleep, and it was daybreak when he was wakened by anunusual sound. It reminded him of breaking glass, though now and thenfor a few moments it was more like the tearing of paper. He jumped upand listened with growing curiosity. The noise was loudest at the bows,but it seemed to rise from all along the boat's waterline. Moran wassleeping soundly, but when Jimmy shook him he suddenly became wideawake.

  "What is it?" Jimmy asked quickly.

  "Ice; splitting on her stem."

  "Then it's too thin to worry about."

  "That's the worst kind," Moran replied, slipping into his pilot coat."Get your slicker on; I'm going out."

  There was not much to be seen when they reached the deck. Clammy fogenveloped the boat, but Jimmy could see that the surface of the waterwas covered by a glassy film. He knew that heavy ice is generally opaqueand white, but this was transparent, with rimy streaks on it that ran toand fro in irregular patterns. As the tide drove it up the channel, itsplintered at the bows, throwing up sharp spears that rasped along thewaterline. Still, it did not seem capable of doing much damage, andJimmy was surprised at Moran's anxious look.

  "Shove the boom across on the other quarter!" Moran said sharply.

  Jimmy moved the heavy spar, the boat lifted one side an inch or two, andMoran, lying on the deck, leaned down toward the water. Jimmy, droppingdown beside him, saw a rough, white line traced along the planking wherethe water had lapped the hull. It looked as if it had been made by ablunt saw.

  "She won't stand much of this," Jimmy said gravely, running the end ofhis finger along the shallow groove made by the sharp teeth of thesplitting ice.

  "That's so. I've seen boats cut down in a tide. The trouble is, thestream sets strong through the gut, except at the bottom of the ebb."

  Jimmy nodded. This was his first experience of thin sheet-ice, but hecould understand the dangerous power it had when driven by a stream fastenough to break it on the planking, so that its edge was continuallyfurnished with keen cutting points. He could imagine its scoring aboulder that stood in its way; while, instead of changing with flood andebb, the tide flowed through the channel in the sands in the samedirection, as tidal currents sometimes do round an island.

  Bethune came up and looked over the side. A glance was enough to showhim their danger.

  "What's to be done?" he asked.

  "I don't quite know," said Moran, with a puzzled air. "The ice gathersalong the beach, and the patches freeze together as the tide sweeps themout. She'd lie safe where the stream is pretty dead, but there's noplace except this bight where we'd get shelter from wind and sea."

  "It's plain that we can't stay here, and we'd better get off as soon aspossible," said Jimmy. "We can hang on to the wreck unless it blows, butI want the breakers filled before we start."

  "It will take us some time," Bethune objected. "I feel I'd rather get upthose boxes from the hold."

  "So do I," Jimmy rejoined. "But I'm taking no chances when there's arisk of our being blown off the land."

  "The skipper's right," declared Moran. "We'll go off with the dory,while he drops her down with the tide."

  They helped to shorten cable, and, after breaking out the anchor, pulledthe dory toward the beach through the thin ice, while the sloop driftedslowly out to sea. Jimmy was relieved to hear the unpleasant cracklestop, and he leisurely set about making sail, for the wind was light. Hemust have canvas enough to stand off and on until the others rejoinedhim.

  He found the waiting dreary when he reached open water, for he wasfilled with keen impatience to get to work. The gold lay in sight in thehold of the wreck, and an hour or two's labor was all that was requiredto transfer it to the sloop. And it was obvious that this must be doneat once, because the drift ice was gathering in the offing, and anon-shore breeze might suddenly spring up. They had nowhere to run forshelter, now that the only safe haven was closed to them. Still, Jimmyfelt that he had done wisely in exercising self-control enough to sendfor the water.

  It was almost calm and very cold. Sky and water were a uniform dingygray, and the mist, which had grown thinner round the land, stillobscured the seaward horizon. Once Jimmy thought he made out an ominouspale gleam in a belt of haze, but when it trailed away before a puff offitful breeze, he saw nothing. For two hours he sailed to and fro inhalf-mile tacks, finding just wind enough to stem the tide; and then,when his patience was almost exhausted, he felt a thrill of relief as heheard the measured splash of oars. A few minutes later the dory camealongside, and Bethune handed up the casks.

  "We had to break the ice with a big stone, and I hardly thought we'd getthrough," he said. "It froze up again while we carried the first loaddown."

  "It doesn't matter so much now," Jimmy replied. "If all goes well, weshould be away at sea by daybreak to-morrow."

  While they stowed the breakers the wind dropped, and Jimmy, watching thesails shake slackly, made a gesture of fierce impatience.

  "The luck is dead against us! It looks as if we should never get at thatgold! There's a two-knot stream on her bow, and she'll drift to leewardfast."

  "Then we'll tow her!" Moran said stubbornly. "Get into the dory; youhaven't carried those breakers, and I'm not used up yet."

  Though Jimmy had rested since the previous evening, he found the workhard. He had suffered from his exertions under water during the pastweek, and the tide ran against them, and the long heave threw a heavystrain upon the line as the sloop lifted. The smaller craft was oftenjerked back almost under her bowsprit, and it needed laborious rowing tostraighten out the sinking line. Still, they made progress, and at lastdropped anchor beside the wreck early in the afternoon.

  "Now," said Moran, "I guess we'll go down unless you want your dinnerbefore you start. We haven't had breakfast yet."

  Bethune laughed and looked at Jimmy.

  "Could you eat anything?" he asked.

  "Not a bite! I don't expect ever to feel hungry until we get those boxesup. Lash the ladder
while I couple the pipe to the pump!"

  Bethune was the first to go down. When he came back after an unusuallylong stay, he reported that he had been unable to extricate the nearestbox, though he had cleared the sand from it before he was forced toascend. Jimmy took his place, and worked savagely, dragging out the boxand moving it toward the bulkhead, but in the confined space, which wasfurther narrowed by some broken timbers, he could not lift it throughthe opening. While he tried, with every muscle strained, a piece oftimber shifted in the sand beneath his feet; and Jimmy lost his balanceand fell forward, putting out his lamp.

  He felt smaller and less buoyant when he got up, his breath was hard toget, and he grew uncomfortably hot. Then it flashed upon him with ashock of unnerving fear that his air-pipe was foul, and for a moment hegrappled sternly with his dismay. There was no time to lose, but he mustkeep his head. Passing his hand over the canvas dress, which feltominously slack, he fumbled at the lamp. As he did so a wavering beam oflight shot out, shining uncertainly through the water; and he supposedthat in falling he must have broken the circuit by pressing the switch.Lifting the lamp, he saw that the tube was bent sharply round a raggedtimber, and while his heart throbbed painfully and his breath grewlabored, he moved back and reached for it; but he found his handsnerveless and his legs unsteady, and when he stooped to loose the linehis head reeled and he pitched forward across the timber, grasping theline as he fell.