CHAPTER XVI
THE GALE
Throughout the night the stiff little craft gallantly breasted the waves, making a much better passage than she had done on her outward voyage, and at sunrise the highest peak of McKay's Island appeared above the horizon.
But with the rising of the sun the wind increased in force, and an hour later it was blowing half a gale, and dead astern.
Trembling on the crest of a huge wave, then sliding with a sickening sensation down the green slope into the trough, the little craft held on her course, steered by Andy's sinewy arm.
Mr. McKay, unable to keep his eyes open, lay deep in slumber upon one of the bunks.
Ellerton, propped up by cushions, was kept awake by the motion of the boat, every lurch causing his wound to pain horribly.
"Another couple of hours will find us home, Hoppy, old man," exclaimed Terence cheerily, as he entered the cabin. "But it does blow."
"So I should think," replied Ellerton. "But how is she behaving?"
"Like a cork; we've only had the tail end of a couple of seas aboard. Well, cheer up! Make yourself at home and wish you were," and with this pleasantry Terence returned to keep Andy company.
Each time the yawl breasted the summit of a wave, the peak of McKay's Island could be seen rearing its head above the waste of storm-tossed waters. Each time it did so it appeared to be getting nearer.
Andy knew that there was danger ahead, but he forebore to mention the fact to his chum.
The "back-wash" from the terrible reef, with its accompaniment of a tumble of dangerous cross-seas, had to be encountered, and the risky passage through the coral barrier made at all costs.
For half-an-hour more the seas, though high, were comparatively regular, but at the expiration of that time the dinghy, which was being towed astern, was filled by a vicious comber. The dead weight of the water-logged craft caused the stout painter to snap like pack-thread, and the next instant the tender was lost to view in the turmoil of foaming water.
"Can't we go back for her?" shouted Terence, for the howling of the wind made ordinary conversation inaudible.
"Impossible!" replied his chum. "She would be swamped before we hauled to the wind. Besides, the dinghy's done for."
"It's a rotten look-out. We shall miss her."
"Yes," assented Andy. "But it can't be helped. Look here, Terence, now we are going through a patch of broken water. I can see it a mile or so ahead. We may have a few seas on board, so lash yourself to this cleat and stand by with the bucket. You may have to bale for all you're worth."
Terence closed the cabin-doors. Fortunately they were close-fitting and comparatively watertight; but, on the other hand, the cockpit was not a self-emptying one. Whatever quantity of water broke over had to be baled out.
"We'll have one of those cans of kerosene out of that locker," continued Andy.
"Going to start the motor?"
"No; to throw oil on the sea. Kerosene's not very heavy, but it's all we have. Now, stand by, here it comes."
Only a mile now separated the yawl from the entrance to the lagoon of McKay's Island, but every yard of that mile was beset with dangers.
Andy gripped the tiller, and braced himself for the ordeal. He had been the chief workman in the task of converting the boat into her present form, and now his handiwork was to be put to the test. A faulty piece of wood, a defective screw, an unsound rope—and their lives would have to answer for it.
With a dull roar a white-crested wave broke over the fore-deck, burying the little yawl as far as the mainmast; then ere she could recover herself another comber came like a cataract over the lee quarter. Well it was that both lads had taken the precaution of lashing themselves on, otherwise they might have been swept clean out of the well.
Andy, wellnigh breathless—for he had been hit in the side by the tiller as the boat attempted to broach to—retained sufficient presence of mind to thrust the helm up and enable the craft to meet the next following wave stern on.
"Bale!" he shouted. "Bale for your life!" and seizing the kerosene can that was floating from side to side of the cockpit, he splayed a quantity of oil over each quarter.
Terence, who was thrown in every direction as far as his tether would allow, struggled manfully with the bucket, but could hardly cope with the frequent showers of spray that literally played over the boat from every point of the compass.
The helmsman noticed, with feelings of deepest concern, that the yawl had made considerable headway since entering the zone of broken water, and it would be touch-and-go whether they could avoid being carried on to the lee side of the coral reef.
It was now nearly high tide, and the cruel ridges were covered, although in the trough of the heavier waves the jagged lines of glistening coral showed themselves above the smother of foam.
Andy tried his best to keep the boat's head towards the channel, but in vain. She had lost ground, and was driving straight for the reef. One chance alone remained. He must put the yawl about and endeavour to claw-off the treacherous reef.
Like a top the little craft responded to the shift of the helm. For a few brief seconds the reefed head-sail slatted violently in the howling wind; then, to the accompaniment of another tremendous sea, the yawl staggered on her fresh course.
Andy's idea was to sail round to the lee side of the island and cruise about in the shelter of the reef till the gale moderated; but a few moments sufficed to show him that the spread of canvas—already as much as the vessel could carry—was not sufficient to take her to windward. She was drifting broadside on to the reef.
"Quick, Terry!" he shouted. "Tell them to stand by and make a rush directly you open the cabin door. The yawl's done for. She'll be smashed to splinters in five minutes."
Mr. McKay received the appalling intelligence fairly calmly. He at once proceeded to fasten a lifebelt round Ellerton's practically helpless form, and then did a like service to Quexo. Nor did he forget the prisoner, Blight. But, on sliding back the fo'c'sle hatch, he found the man lying senseless on the floor. Either he had fainted through sheer fright, or he had been stunned by being thrown against one of the lockers, and bound hand and foot, had been unable to help himself.
Blight was no feather-weight, but in spite of the plunging and rolling of the doomed craft, Mr. McKay gripped him with one hand and dragged his senseless body into the cabin. Then, cutting his bonds, he completed his work of mercy by lashing the sole remaining lifebelt round the body of his would-be murderer.
"You've nothing to put on," gasped Ellerton.
"True; but I have my strength," was the reply, as Mr. McKay stealthily girded on a leather belt in which hung a formidable sheath-knife. It was not the thought of being cast on the waters that troubled him. Death, should it come, would be swift and merciful. But should they survive the dangers of the reef there was the probability of far greater peril.
Though he forbore to mention the fact to Ellerton, Mr. McKay thought of the sharks, and with a fervent unspoken prayer to save them from these creatures, he stood ready for the cabin door to be opened.
Meanwhile Terence and Andy had cut themselves free from their lashings. Twenty yards away the reef showed its teeth as if waiting for its prey.
Then with a noise like the rattle of musketry, which drowned the thunder of the breakers, the staysail burst asunder, and the yawl, in spite of the helmsman's efforts, flew up into the wind.
Down in the trough of a murderous sea she sank. A rapid glance astern showed the glistening reef towering several feet above the little craft, the white foam pouring down the honeycombed ridges as if the rock were baring itself to strike a harder blow.
"The door!" gasped Andy, as a gigantic roller bore down upon the reef.
Terence unfastened the cabin door, and as Mr. McKay appeared, holding Ellerton and Quexo in his powerful grip, the yawl seemed to stand on end. Then, borne on the breast of the roller, the little craft was tossed like a cork right over the rocks, her keel scraping the lee side of the reef by barely a yard!
The next instant the vessel was rolling sluggishly in the sullen swell within the lagoon, with two feet of water in her cabin, yet still afloat and in comparative safety.
"Don't wait to bale out!" shouted Andy. "You take the helm, pater. Run her up into the wind and we'll anchor."
The ground swell inside the lagoon was too great to allow the yawl to run alongside the usual jetty. They would have to wait till low tide, when the reef would be sufficiently exposed to serve as a breakwater.
Quickly Andy and Terence made their way for'ard to let go the anchor.
When within a couple of hundred yards of the beach the yawl was again put head to wind, and with a splash the anchor plunged to the bottom of the lagoon. But just as Andy was checking the out-rushing cable, a sudden blow from the staysail caught him unawares, and the next instant he was struggling in the sea.
The waves carried the lad clear of the vessel, and in spite of his utmost efforts he was unable to regain the boat. His father hurled a coil of rope, but the line, being wet, became entangled and fell short.
Andy saw that it was impossible to swim back, so with a cheery wave of his arm he pointed towards the surf-beaten shore, and immediately struck out for land.
For an instant Mr. McKay intended to plunge into the sea and accompany his son on his perilous swim, till the thought of the possibility of Blight recovering his senses occurred to him. With Ellerton and Quexo disabled, the margin of safety was not sufficient when only Terence remained to guard the prisoner.
Both lads were surprised to see Mr. McKay rush into the flooded cabin and return with a rifle and a belt of ammunition.
"Don't alarm him," said Andy's father hurriedly. "But there may be sharks about."
Placing the rifle on the fo'c'sle of the heaving vessel, Mr. McKay watched the progress of the swimmer with the greatest concern, at the same time keeping a sharp look-out for the expected appearance of the dreaded dorsal fin of one of the tigers of the deep.
Steadily Andy swam shorewards, keeping up a slow yet powerful side stroke. Now he was in the grip of the ground swell. Once his feet touched bottom, but ere he could obtain a firm footing the "undertow" swept him backwards.
The next instant he was lost to sight in a white-capped roller. The wave broke, then receded, but to the alarm of the anxious watchers there were no signs of the swimmer.
Quickly the wide expanse of sand uncovered; then, just as another breaker was preparing to launch itself upon the beach, Andy sprang to his feet.
Knee-deep in water he rushed up the shelving shore, and managed to grasp a ledge of rock ere he was again overwhelmed by the mighty torrent. Fortunately he was able to retain his grasp, and directly the rock uncovered he ran beyond the reach of the waves and sank exhausted on the beach.
"He'll be all right in a minute," said Mr. McKay with a sigh of relief. "Now, Ellerton, you had better stay here while we get rid of the water; the bunks must be saturated. Come on, Terence, we've been through a great deal, and now, thank God, we are safely home; but all the same, we've plenty of work to do."
Thus exhorted, Terence assisted Mr. McKay to lower and stow the mainsail and secure the fragment of the head sail that had caused so much mischief.
This done, they plied buckets and balers till the level of the water they had shipped sank well beneath the floor-boards of the cabin. The yawl was no longer sluggish, but rose buoyantly as each roller passed under her.
"This is the second gale from this quarter," remarked Mr. McKay, as they were partaking of a hastily cooked meal. "It's taught me a lesson. Had our boat been in her usual dock she would have been dashed to pieces. At the first opportunity we'll lay down a heavy set of moorings and keep her afloat. Here, thanks to the reef, the seas can never be really dangerous, though on shore they break heavily."
"When shall we be able to land, do you think?" asked Terence, for the short, sharp motion of the boat as she pitched at her cable was beginning to prove distressing, both to him and Quexo.
"In a matter of three hours Andy will be able to launch the other tender. We will then lay out another anchor, so as to make doubly sure, and get ashore. Is Andy still on the beach?"
Terence went out of the cabin, and on returning reported that his chum was ascending the cliff path.
"Now we'll secure this fellow Blight once more. I see he's coming round," continued Mr. McKay.
Placing the prisoner again in the fo'c'sle he did not attempt to secure his arms and legs. He merely tied the man's thumbs with a piece of strong but fine cord, so that his arms were kept behind his back. Unless he attempted to struggle, the prisoner would feel but slight inconvenience, while this method was a perfect means of keeping him in a state of utter helplessness.
Shortly after this was done Mr. McKay went on deck "to have a look round." Gazing landward, he saw Andy standing on the edge of the lower terrace, striving to attract his attention by means of a handkerchief tied to a stick.
"There's Andy calling me up in the Morse code," said Mr. McKay. "I wonder what's up? Terence, will you please hand me over that signalling flag from the for'ard port locker?"
Andy, though not an expert signaller, knew the Morse system fairly well. Slowly he transmitted the startling message:
"The house has been broken into!"