At last—it seemed after many hours—the storm subsided. A calm stole over the wild waters and faint daylight began to creep over the scene.
A dusky gray in the far horizon was succeeded by a flush of ruddy hue. Darkness faded at last, and a great golden globe of fire shone over the dreary scene.
Far as the eye could reach was water, unbroken, monotonous.
The old boatswain’s eye scanned the bleak expanse searchingly.
He saw what the boys had not noticed. His face was eager and hopeful as he fixed his glance toward the rising sun.
Then he announced in thrilling tones:
“A sail!”
CHAPTER XVII.
THE RAFT.
The words of the old boatswain infused new hope and courage into the drooping hearts of the two boys.