Chapter 17

His practice now stood him in good stead; and he had, besides, an additional advantage, for having learned to swim in fresh water, and indeed never having essayed his powers in the sea, the unaccustomed buoyancy of the waves, which he now experienced for the first time, gave him a confidence and an ease which seemed surprising to him; he felt that he did not require the slightest exertion to keep afloat, even without the life-buoy, as he tested by letting go of it for a short time, and with it he was certain he could almost rival Captain Webb and swim for hours.

Of course it was rough work for a novice, paddling in such broken water; but after a few strokes he got used to it, and, by dint of diving under the swelling bosom of some of the more threatening crests, and floating over the tops of the others whose ridges were yet perfect, he made his way pretty rapidly towards the spot where he had espied David floating off.

The wind and the set of the sea were both against him, but the answering hail of the middy assured him he was proceeding in the right direction, and would be soon by his lost friend's side.

Another stroke or two, and as Johnny Liston rose on the crest of a huge mountain of water, which took him up almost to the sky, he saw below him the broken timbers of the bulwarks rolling about in the trough of the sea, and he thought they formed part of the wreckage on which David had been supporting himself, and that he had seen him on them.

His heart sank within him like lead, for no one was floating on the broken bulwarks now. Poor Dave must have gone.

Just at that moment, however, the middy's faint hail rang again clearly out above the noise of the wind and the sea, to assure him he was still above the surface, and restore his drooping energies.

"Ahoy! Help! Ahoy!"

He did not require to hail again, for, the next moment overtopping another billow, his friend Jonathan shot up alongside of him, and grasped him by the shoulder.

"Oh, Dave," he exclaimed. "Thank God I've got you safe. I thought I would never have found you."

David had partly clambered up on the top of the wheelhouse, and lay stretched out with his legs in the water.

He raised his head and turned his face as Jonathan got hold of him.

His emotion was too great for many words.

"And you jumped overboard to save me?" was all he said.

But his look was enough.

Johnny Liston had been swimming with one arm only thrust through the life-buoy, as he had been obliged to quit his hold of it each time he dived beneath the crest of a wave.

He now took it off, holding on to the wheelhouse-top, which sank down into the water on one side under the double weight of the two lads, elevating the other end in the air.

"Here, put this on, Dave," he said. "I brought it for you, and a precious job I have had to reach you with it."

"But you, Jonathan--I beg your pardon, old chap, I didn't mean to call you so. I know you don't like it."

"Never mind, Dave. If you think of me as Jonathan you may as well call me so. I shan't mind you doing so any longer I rather like it, old fellow, now, for our friendship will be like that of David and Jonathan that we read of in the Bible; you know it says that `the soul of Jonathan was knit unto the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.' That's just how I feel."

"What a chap you are to think of that now," said David admiringly, "with both of us bobbing about in the middle of the ocean, and the ship out of sight. But I won't have the life-buoy; what will you do without it?"

"Bless you, I can swim like a fish, Dave, and it was more a nuisance to me than a help; but, we can both hold on to it, you know, if it comes to the worst. How's your leg, Dave? I thought it was broken when you got it twisted in the wheel that time."

"Oh, it's all right," said David, kicking it out vigorously as he spoke. "The bone isn't quite broken, but it's very sore, and I suppose I'd have to lay up for it if I wasn't here;" and he grinned ruefully.

"Do you think the ship will pick us up?" said the other presently, losing some of his self-possession now that he had come up with David, and the motive for forgetting self and personal danger was wanting.

He was naturally timid unless nerved up by necessity.

"Oh, yes," said David, whose spirits rose with the occasion, and who in the presence of his friend forgot all the peril. "Captain Markham won't desert us, never fear; but you can't pull up a ship like a horse, you know, Jonathan, and it will take some time for the _Sea Rover_ to tack about before she can fetch us. I wish, however, old chap, we had a little better raft than this to support us; the wheelhouse-top is hardly big enough for two, even with the buoy, which, though it can keep us afloat, won't raise us out of the water as we want."

"Why, I passed some wreckage a few yards off before I reached you," said his friend.

"Did you?" said David. "That must have been the gangway and part of the bulwarks that came away with me. I wish we had the lot here."

"Do you?" said Jonathan, as we must now call him, "then I'll soon fetch them," striking out as he spoke.

"Take care," said David; "and pray take the buoy with you."

But, the sea saved Jonathan the trouble of leaving his friend, for the very pieces of timber of which he had spoken made their appearance at that moment, floating down towards them from the summit of a wave, in whose valley they were; and Jonathan swam beyond them and pushed them before him till they were alongside the wheelhouse-top.

There was plenty of material to form a substantial raft with the addition of what they already had; and as Jonathan drew up the heavy mass alongside, David gave a shout of joy.

"Why," he exclaimed, "here is the cleat of the signal halliards come away with a piece of the taffrail, and we'll have enough rope to form all the lashings we want. Isn't that lucky?"

The young middy was handy enough in sailors' ways through his two years' experience of the sea; and--Jonathan aiding him under his direction--in a short time the loose timbers were lashed firmly together as a framework, with the roof of the wheelhouse fastened on the top, forming altogether a substantial platform, on which the two boys found themselves elevated a clear foot or more out of the water, and free from the cold wash of the waves, which was beginning to turn them blue.

"There," exclaimed David, "now we're comfortable, and can wait in patience till the ship overhauls us; she can't be long now."

Watching with eager eyes they saw the _Sea Rover_ coming towards them, after a long, long while, as it seemed to them; but ere she had reached them, in spite of their shouts and hand-wavings, which they fancied must have been seen and heard on board, she went round on the other tack, and disappeared from their view, to their bitter disappointment and grief.

It was David now who was hopeful still. Jonathan seemed to have lost all that courage which had inspired him to leap into the sea to his friend's rescue, and was trembling with fear and hopeless despair.

The next time the _Sea Rover_ came in sight, she was further off, and appeared to be sailing away from them, although they could see her tack about in the distance several times, as if searching for them still.

Then it gradually got darker, and night came on, enveloping them in a curtain of hazy mist that seemed to rest on the water, through which they could see far off the blue lights that were burnt on board the ship to show their whereabouts, although they were useless to them, as they could not reach her.

Even David began to lose hope now, but he still encouraged his companion.

"They'll not desert us, old fellow," he said, with a heartiness which he by no means felt. "The captain will lie-to, and will pick us up in the morning."

Jonathan was not attending to his words, however. He was shivering and shaking as if he had the ague, and David could hear his teeth chatter together with the cold, although the wind had gone down somewhat, and the sea no longer broke over them.

It was so dark that the two lads could scarcely see each other as they lay on top of the frail structure that separated them from the deep, clasping each other's hands.

Presently, in the fitful phosphorescent light of the water, some dark object seemed to float up alongside; and Jonathan gave vent to a scream of horror, that rang through the silence of the night.

"Oh, what is that?" he exclaimed.

And if David had not clutched him, he would have plunged headlong from the raft into the sea in his fright and agonised terror.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER FOUR.

ALONE ON THE OCEAN.

For hours the two boys remained in a sort of nameless terror, David feeling almost as frightened as Jonathan, although he concealed his fright in order to reassure his companion, with the terrible object that had excited their fear bobbing up and down alongside them, and occasionally coming with a crash against their frail raft, that threatened to annihilate it and send them both into the water, when it would be all over with them.

The night was pitch dark, for the mist that hung over the surface of the deep appeared to increase in intensity, and they could not see even the faint glimmer of a star to cheer them; while all they could hear was the lapping of the waves as they washed by them, and the ripple and swish of some billow as it overtopped its crest, and spent its strength in eddies of circling foam, as David could imagine--for the darkness rendered everything invisible now, even the platform on which they were supported, and the unknown companion beside them, which might be anything, and their very hands when held before their faces.

Some time after midnight, when David and Jonathan had gone through a purgatory of dread, not knowing what might happen to them any moment, the moon rose gradually from the horizon, shining faintly through a veil of clouds that almost obscured its light, and the morbid terror of the two boys was at once dispelled on their being able to perceive what it really was that had occasioned them such alarm.

"Goodness gracious me, Jonathan!" exclaimed David, with a tone of glad surprise in his voice, which at once aroused his friend, who was lying face downwards on the raft, with his head buried in his crossed arms. "Why, what do you think it is that has frightened us so? I'm blest if it isn't that very identical boat that you saw in the afternoon passing by the _Sea Rover_! Isn't it providential, old chap, that after all these hours we should come across it again? Thank God for it, Jonathan," he added more earnestly a moment afterwards; "it may save both our lives in case the ship is unable to find us and pick us up!"

Yes, there it was, a long black boat, the cutter of some vessel, that had been washed away from the bows, as it was twenty feet long and more, floating keel uppermost, alongside the raft, although buried somewhat deep in the water.

The night had no longer any terrors for them; and, although they waited anxiously for the sun to rise to see whether the _Sea Rover_ was still in sight--for the moon was frequently obscured by clouds, and its light too intermittent and deceptive for them to scan the ocean by--they did not dream of despairing now, even if their worst suspicions should be realised, and the ship have left them to their fate, as the boat offered them a tangible means of rescue, which the raft did not; albeit it had saved their lives for the while, and served as a "pis-aller."

Morning came at last, first tinging the horizon to the eastwards with a pale sea-green hue, that deepened into a roseate tinge, and then merged into a vivid crimson flush, that spread and spread until the whole heavens reflected the glory of the orb of day, that rose in all its might from its bed in the waters, and moved with rapid strides towards the zenith, the crimson colour of the sky gradually fading away, as the bright yellow sunlight took its place, and illuminated the utmost verge of the apparently limitless sea; but the _Sea Rover_ was nowhere in sight, nor was the tiniest speck of a distant sail to be seen on the horizon!

"Never mind, Jonathan," said David, cheering up his companion; "you mustn't be disappointed: it is only what I expected, although I didn't tell you so before! Now that we have the boat, you know, we are not half so badly off as we thought ourselves at first. We've no reason to despair!"

And then, sailor-like, he immediately began to overhaul their God-sent gift, to see whether it was all a-tanto and seaworthy, without losing any more time in vain repinings, and scanning the ocean fruitlessly for the _Sea Rover_; Jonathan sitting up, and beginning to be interested, as he regained his courage and self-reliance, through his companion's words and the warmth of the sun combined, and lost that feeling of hopeless despair that seemed to overwhelm him and weigh him down since they lost sight of the ship for the last time on the previous night.

"It must have been adrift a good while," said David, clambering on to the keel of the boat, and getting astride on it. "The bottom is quite slimy. Oh, my poor leg, how it hurts! I forgot all about that squeeze I had between the rudder beam and the wheelhouse, for a moment. Never mind," continued the brave boy, hiding his pain from his companion, who winced in sympathy; "it was only a little wrench I gave it, and it has passed off now. But pray hold on tight to the stern, Jonathan--you can catch hold of it by the rudder-hinge--or else I'll be parting company, and going off on a cruise by myself."

Working himself along with his hands and knees on the slippery surface of the boat, he felt the exposed portion all over, and as far under water as his arm could reach down, when he proceeded to give his opinion like a consulting surveyor.

"The timbers are all sound, old chap," he said, "at least, as well as I can make out; and not a hole anywhere that I can see. I can't tell for certain, however, till we right her properly, and get the water out of her; and I think we'll find our work cut out for us to do that, Jonathan, my boy."

"I'm sure I don't see how we can manage it," replied his friend despairingly.

"Oh, don't you?" answered David cheerfully, his spirits rising with the sense of action and the feeling of having something to do, and as happy and unconcerned as if he were safe on board the _Sea Rover_. "Oh, don't you, Master Jonathan? Then allow me to inform you, as Dick Murphy says, that there are more ways of killing a pig besides hanging him; and that I see a way to our righting that boat."

"How?" inquired the other.

"I'll soon show you," said David. "But I guess and calculate it will take a pretty considerable time I reckon, and you'll have to help us, sirree."

"Of course I will," said Jonathan, laughing at David's apt imitation of an American passenger on board their ship, who had unwittingly been the source of much amusement to the two boys, with his drawling voice, and habit of speaking through his nose in regular "down eastern" fashion.

"Well, bear a hand, old cock," said David jocularly, pleased at seeing Jonathan laugh again, and getting off the boat's keel gingerly on to their raft again. "The first thing we have to do, Jonathan, is to try and raise the bow of the craft on top of these timbers here--or rather, sink down the end of the wheelhouse roof so that it may get under the boat. We can do it easy enough by both going to the extreme point of it and bearing it down by our united weight; but mind you don't slip off, old boy. Hold on tight."

It was no easy task, as the motion of the waves hindered them, and the raft was lifting and falling as the surges rolled under them; besides which, the boat was heavy, and the suction of the water seemed to keep it down and resist their efforts.

However, they persevered, and, after innumerable attempts and failures, succeeded at length in getting part of the bow of the cutter on to the end of the raft, which it almost submerged, although it was itself lifted clean out of the sea.

"So far, so good," said David, puffing and blowing like a grampus with his exertions, and Jonathan following suit. "We'd better have a spell off for a bit; the heaviest part of the work is yet to come."

"Don't you think," said Jonathan presently, after a rest, "that it would be a good plan to float her stern round at right angles to the raft? Then the waves would force her on to it, almost without our help."

"Right you are," said David. "Two heads are always better than one!"

"You stop where you are," said Jonathan. "You know your leg is bad; and besides, I'm more at home in the water than you are, although you're a sailor. I'll jump in, and soon turn her stern round, while you hold on to the bow, so that it doesn't slide off and give us all our trouble over again to get it back."

So saying, he let himself down into the sea, and catching hold of the aftermost end of the boat, which was now much deeper down in the water, owing to the bow being raised, struck vigorously with his free hand, swimming on his side, and soon managed to slew it round so that it pointed athwart-wise to the raft.

"Now, David," he said, when this was accomplished, "if you'll come into the water too,--I'm sorry to trouble you, old man, but I can't do it all by myself--and put your shoulder under the other gunwale of the boat, the same as mine is under this, and hold on to our staging at the same time, we'll be able by degrees to lift and drag it bodily on to the raft, as the send of the sea, as you call it, will assist us."

"Why, Jonathan, you ought to be a sailor," said David admiringly. "It's the very thing to be done, and just what I was going to suggest." And he also slid off into the sea, taking particular care of his wounded leg, and went to his companion's assistance, placing himself in the position he had advised.

The two boys exerted themselves to the utmost, held on tightly to the raft as they "trod the water," as swimmers say, with their feet, lifting the boat an inch or two at a time with each wave that rolled towards them, until, little by little, they got one end well upon the raft, which it sank quite a foot in the water, when they clambered out of the sea and got on to it, too.

"Now," said David, "comes the tug of war, to get the boat over, right side uppermost."

"And then," rejoined Jonathan, "we'll have to bale her out. How will you manage that?"

"With our boots, to be sure," was the prompt answer.

"Oh yes," said Jonathan, "I quite forgot those. Let us get her over at once; it is cold work standing thus in the water; and we may as well be comfortable as not!"

After a long and weary struggle, during the course of which the boys were in the water, with their weight hanging on to the keel, and endeavouring to turn it over--they succeeded at last, almost when they were half inclined to give up the task as hopeless.

Then when the boat was righted, they pushed it off the raft, and David kept it in proper position, while Jonathan, taking off one of his boots, baled away until he was tired; David relieving him, and he taking his place in keeping the boat steady. It was slow work, but it was done in time; and when it was half emptied of its contents, they both climbed in, and being now able to bale together, they soon had it clear, and floating bravely like a cork.

Much to their joy, it did not leak a bit; and after having satisfied themselves on that point, they went on to examine their craft in detail. It was a smart ship's cutter, which had evidently, as David had surmised, been washed off the bows or davits of some sea-going vessel through being carelessly fastened, for it was perfectly uninjured, and, to the delight of the boys, it had its proper oars and a mast and sails lashed fore and aft under the thwarts. There was also a locker in the stern-sheets which was locked, and on David prising it open with his clasp knife, it was found to contain some fishing-line and hooks. A small cask, or breaker, was also locked in the bow of the boat, and this was found to contain water, a trifle impregnated by the sea, and slightly brackish, but still quite drinkable. It need hardly be mentioned what a great boon this was to them, as they had begun to be afflicted with thirst as the sun's heat grew more powerful towards mid-day.

"Oh, David," exclaimed Jonathan presently, from his seat in the stern of the boat, where he had been giving way to his thoughts while his friend was bustling about in the bows, stepping the mast, and seeing that the sail and tackle answered properly, "God has been very watchful over us!"

"Yes," replied the other, "we have much to be thankful for, old man, and I am for one, as I've no doubt you are; but still I don't see why we should remain here, as there is no chance of the _Sea Rover_ coming back for us now, and there is a good southwesterly breeze blowing just on purpose for us."

"Why, in what direction would you steer?"

"Nor'-east, to be sure, and we'll fetch the Cape of Good Hope in time, besides the chance of falling in the track of passing vessels."

"Have you any idea of where we are, David?"

"Well, the ship yesterday was in latitude 36 degrees and something, and just nearing the longitude of Greenwich, which is neither east nor west, as you know, so I suppose we're about a thousand miles or so off the Cape."

"Good heavens, David! a thousand miles!"

"It isn't such a tremendous long way, Jonathan. We can run it easily, if the wind lasts from the same quarter, in about eight days; and if we don't quite fetch the Cape, we'll reach some part of South Africa at all events--that is, if we don't come across the track of a ship, and get picked up before then."

"But even eight days, David. What shall we do for food all that time?" said Jonathan, who was by no means of so hopeful a disposition as his friend.

"Don't you recollect, old fellow," rejoined David, "what you said just now, of God watching over us? As He has done so up to now, don't you think He'll look after us still, and provide some means by which we shall not starve?"

"Yes," said the other, feeling the rebuke, "you are quite right, David; and I was wrong to doubt His mercy. But, oh, I do feel so hungry!"

"So do I," replied David. "But we'll have to grin and bear it for a while, old chap, as we are not near old Slush's caboose, on board the _Sea Rover_, and I don't see any grub anywhere in sight. However, Jonathan, we haven't felt the pangs of real hunger yet, and needn't begin to shout out before we're hurt. Let us do something--make sail on the boat and abandon our old raft, which has served us a good turn--and we'll wear off the edge of our appetites."

David's advice was followed. Taking only the life-buoy with them, they cast loose from the raft almost with feelings of regret, for it had saved their lives, and it seemed like ingratitude to leave it there tossing alone on the surface of the deep now that they had no further service for it; and, hoisting the cutter's "leg-of-mutton" sail, and steering with an oar, as the boat's rudder was missing, they ran before the wind, David directing their course, as nearly as he could possibly guess to the north-east, by the sun, which had now passed the meridian.

"I say, Jonathan," said David, after a time, when they had quite lost sight of the raft, and must have run some miles, "just rummage in the locker again, and see if their is anything else we passed over in our first search?"

"No," said Jonathan, after going down on his knees and looking into every corner of the receptacle with his fingers, so that not a crevice was left unsearched, "nothing but the fishing-lines."

"Well, let us have them out and see if we can catch anything."

"But we've got no bait."