"I say, Wilkins, my man," said Hugh. "Do you fancy our little troop could drive all that lot of fellows before us like a flock of sheep? I should hardly like to make the experiment, unless each of us was armed with a good rifle."
"That's just what we want, Master Hugh," replied Wilkins. "It were just that there gun, as I grudged that rogue Peter a vast deal more nor bags of bread and such like. If we'd had a few more guns, we might have defied every black fellow alive atween here and Perth. They've not that sense to make out what it is, as makes all that clatter and smoke; and it's just because they ken nought about it as makes 'em so soft.... But, halloo! Master Hugh, I don't half like yon sky, we'se have some weather afore long."
Hugh hailed the canoes, to announce to Arthur the meteorological observations of Wilkins; and as the man had certainly more experience than any of the party, they could not help feeling a little alarmed. Arthur looked anxiously towards the coast for a favorable landing-place, but here, only high bare cliffs ran along the shore, against which the waves dashed with a fury that warned them they must not approach near.
Gradually, the sky grew dark with clouds, the wind was heard before it was felt; and before Hugh and Wilkins could tear down their rude sail, the raft was whirled round, and hurried furiously past the canoes towards a sort of eddy which was dashing and foaming not a quarter of a mile before them. With all the speed they could make, Arthur and his father rowed forward to rescue Hugh and Wilkins, regardless, at that moment, of the fate of the raft itself.
The two men had now got the sail lowered; the raft was dashed amongst the breakers, but Arthur's canoe gained on them, and he could hear Wilkins hailing them, "Keep clear of the eddy; and send us a rope." Fortunately the mooring rope was still attached to the canoe, and Arthur endeavored, though many times ineffectually, to fling it within reach of the doomed catamaran.
At length Wilkins secured the rope, and binding it firmly round Hugh, he flung the boy clear of the tossing raft. Arthur and the half-distracted father hauled the rope gently, as long as the poor lad seemed able to contend against the waves, and when he seemed to have yielded to their violence, they drew him, senseless, to the canoe. The cares of Margaret soon restored him, and in the mean time Wilkins had plunged into the boiling waves, and though a good swimmer, he with much difficulty reached the canoe, which they saw, with distress, was now far too much laden in such a sea.
CHAPTER X.
A Total Wreck.—An Unknown Coast.—The Green Ants.—The White Cockatoo.—Waifs.—The Gourd Tree.—The Fresh-water Rivulet.—A River Voyage Projected.
"The catamaran is lost, master," said Wilkins, as soon as he could speak. "But life afore property any day, and somehow I've had thoughts of late as how I'se hardly fit to die.... Now then; look about ye, young man. That there eddy's a freshet; there's a river comes in there, and that's where as we should be, if we can make land cannily. Here, auld master, lend me them oars, and sit ye down and look after that young chap."