CHAPTER XXIV
A FALSE AND A REAL ALARM
Before daybreak everyone was up and eager for the fray, and directly breakfast was over they sallied down to the shore. It was still pitch dark, but the time of dead low water made it absolutely necessary that operations should commence ere the sun rose.
By the light of several lanterns the slack of the hawsers was taken in and the two canoes pinned down so far as the united efforts of all hands would permit. Nothing more could be done till the rising of the tide.
The cradle, its ends marked by long poles to indicate its position at high water, was already run out so far as the lines of the slipway extended, a rope being fastened to it from the windlass ashore.
Anxiously the little group of workers watched the tide rise slowly, inch by inch, up the temporary tide gauge. Sometimes it paused as a "false ebb" in the offing stayed its progress, till at length it crept within a few inches of its predicted height.
"There's enough water now, I fancy," announced Ellerton, "so heave away. Gently does it!"
It was an anxious time. Slowly the two canoes were warped shore wards, guided by a pair of ropes abeam so as to insure the wrecked boat being deposited evenly on the cradle. Already the two outer poles of the cradle were passed, when a slight shock told the salvors that the yawl's forefoot had touched the cradle.
"Avast there!" shouted Ellerton to Terence and Quexo, who were hauling on the shore.
"There's not enough water," exclaimed Andy, with dismay written on his face.
"Ten minutes yet before high water," announced Mr. McKay. "Will she do it, I wonder?"
For answer Ellerton slipped off his clothes and plunged over the side of the canoe. Mr. McKay and Andy could follow his movements as he descended with slow yet powerful strokes, till he disappeared from view beneath the submerged craft. Half a minute later he reappeared, and swam alongside the canoe, into which he was assisted by the eager spectators.
"She'll do it," he announced, when he had recovered his breath. "We are a bit out in our reckoning; her keel is touching the side of the cradle."
Five minutes later the yawl was lying immediately over the slipway, the slings were cast off, and slowly she settled upon the carriage prepared for her reception. The canoes were warped clear, and all that remained to be done was to man the winch and heave the cradle above high-water mark.
In spite of the broiling sun, the work of winding the winch was begun, for the delighted lads would not be persuaded to delay the operation till the cool of the day. Foot by foot the cradle came home, till the huge barnacle-covered hull began to appear above the water.
"What a state she's in," exclaimed Andy, as the lads rested from their labours, for they were thoroughly played out. "There's a week's scraping in front of us before we can do anything else."
"Hadn't we better see about baling her out?" asked Terence. "Directly she ceases to be water-borne the pressure of the water will burst her seams."
"No fear of that," replied Mr. McKay. "The water will find its way out of the hole that the natives made in her."
"I guess the motor is pretty rusty," continued Terence.
"It may not be," Andy replied. "You see, I kept it smothered in grease, and unless those brutes smashed it, it ought to be capable of being repaired. But I am awfully anxious to see, so what do you say to another turn at the winch?"
Once more the lads resumed their work of hauling up the cradle, till nearly the whole of the streaming, weed-covered hull—a forlorn waif from the sea—was visible.
"Another five yards, lads," exclaimed Ellerton cheerfully. "Now, put more beef into it."
As he spoke, there was a warning shout from Mr. McKay, but the warning came too late. Ere the lads could realise the extent of their misfortune the cradle collapsed and the hull of the yawl crashed over on her side.
With a horrible rending of the shattered timbers, the enormous mass pitched fairly on a jagged rock; the next instant the object of so many months' tedious toil lay on its broadside, hopelessly damaged.
For quite a minute all hands gazed in speechless grief upon the scene of calamity. To have the fruits of victory snatched from their lips seemed almost more than they could realise, till by degrees the extent of their misfortune began to assert itself.
"Is she really done for?" said Andy, his voice barely raised above a whisper.
"Yes, her back's broken," replied his father. "She will never float again."
"Then, by George!" announced Andy, speaking in a tone that surprised his companions by its resolution, "I won't be done. I begin to build another craft to-morrow. Come on, pater, let's get something to eat, and after that we'll set out the plans for our new craft. Buck up, Hoppy, it's no use crying over spilt milk."
Inspired by their companion's cheerfulness, the lads turned their backs upon the scene of their ill-favoured labours and set off towards the house. They now felt specially anxious to devote their energies to the new task that lay before them, and already their late misfortune was being regarded as a thing of the past.
"Without wishing to discourage you, Andy," began Mr. McKay, after the meal was over, "I think we had better give up all idea of building another craft. I've been going carefully into this matter, and I'll tell you why I form this conclusion. You see there's no timber growing on this island that can be used, and our own stock is insufficient even if we make use of the planks of the wrecked yawl. So I think the best thing we can do is to convert one of the canoes——"
"But I thought we had already decided that they are unsuitable and unseaworthy?"
"Quite so. As they are at present I should hesitate to make a long voyage in one of them, although the natives frequently travel great distances in this type of craft. So I think if we give the smallest canoe—for that one seems the handiest—a good keelson, bolt a false keel into it, and provide her with some stout timbers and stringers, she'll answer our purpose. We can use most of the deck planks of the yawl to deck-in the canoe. Her sails and most of her gear will come in handy."
"It would certainly save a lot of work," replied Andy, for in calmer moments the size of his proposed task had begun to assert itself.
"Then let's make a start," added Ellerton. "There's no time like the present, so I vote we begin to dismantle the remains of the yawl, examine and overhaul her canvas, and remove the ballast."
"I haven't measured the smallest canoe," remarked Andy. "What's her length, do you think?"
"About twenty-eight feet in length, nine in breadth, and two feet draught, though with the addition of a false keel and ballast she will draw at least four feet."
Accordingly all hands set to work with a will, and ere nightfall the shattered hull of the yawl was a mere shell, the gear being stowed away in the lower storehouse.
"To-morrow we'll make a start with the canoe," said Ellerton, as they prepared to retire for the night. "There are plenty of pieces of timber to shore her up, and wedges can easily be made. Before the end of the week we ought to have her keel and keelson bolted on."
"Then sleep well on it," added Mr. McKay, "for there's much to be done."
The inhabitants of McKay's Island had already made their customary signal with the searchlight, the power had been switched off, and the canvas hood placed over the instrument for the purpose of protecting it from the night dews. This routine was always the last ere the day's work ended.
Mr. McKay was about to close the door of the dwelling-house when a rapid and prolonged ringing of the electric alarm bell broke upon the stillness of the night.
Instantly there was a rush for the arms-rack where the rifles were kept ready for immediate use, and, securing their weapons, the whole party made for the open, Terence, according to a prearranged plan, running to the powerhouse to switch on the current, while the others took up their position at the palisade commanding the cliff-path.
The night was pitch dark; a light breeze ruffled the palm trees, but beyond that all was still. Peering into the darkness the defenders waited, finger on trigger, to open fire on the first appearance of the foe.
Then the alarm bell began to ring again.
"There's someone climbing the path," whispered Ellerton, when the din had died away.
"I wish Terence would hurry up with the searchlight; we could then see who the intruders are. There it is again," as the clanging of the bell commenced for the third time.
In his natural anxiety and haste, Terence fumbled over his task, but at length the carbons fused and the giant beam of the searchlight threw its dazzling rays seaward. Then, trained by Donaghue's guiding hand, it swept the lower terraces and the beach, but neither hostile canvas nor lurking bloodthirsty warriors came within its blinding glare.
"There's someone moving down there," exclaimed Andy, pointing towards the foot of the steep path. "See! To the right of that great boulder."
"Hanged if I can," muttered Ellerton. Nevertheless he took aim with his rifle at the spot indicated by his chum.
"It's only the shadows thrown by the moving beam," said Mr. McKay. "Terence, keep the light steady for a moment, will you?"
The now stationary ray revealed the fact that some moving object was creeping cautiously over the rock-strewn beach immediately at the end of the path.
"There's someone down there," whispered Ellerton, and almost as he spoke the alarm bell resumed its shrill warning.
"I'm going down to see who or what it is," announced Mr. McKay, leaning his rifle against the stockade and drawing a revolver.
Accompanied by Andy, Ellerton and Quexo, he descended the steep and rugged path.
All at once Mr. McKay burst into a hearty laugh, his companions joining in as soon as they perceived the cause of his mirth. A huge turtle had crawled across the beach and was digging a hole in the sand with its flippers. This had set the alarm bell ringing.
A HUGE TURTLE HAD CRAWLED ACROSS THE BEACH
AND HAD SET THE ALARM BELL RINGING
As the larder needed filling, the turtle was dispatched and dragged up to the house.
It was late in the forenoon of the next day ere the inmates turned out of their beds, for the previous night's diversion had deprived them of a fair share of their accustomed sleep.
"Buck up and fill the kettle, Quexo," shouted Andy "I'm right hungry."
The mulatto, taking a can in his hand, set out for the stream, but hardly had he stepped outside the door when he returned with consternation written all over his face.
"Massa! Massa!" he gasped. "Canoes! Heap, plenty, much, great canoes!"