“The gods defend us! Is it another warship?”
“Are we all to be drowned at last?”
So the cries ran on. In the meantime the vessel righted herself once more, and then it could be seen that she had slipped over a reef. Another reef was ahead, and again she pounded and scraped, and more cries arose, until it was as if Bedlam had been let loose. In terror a few leaped overboard, and sad to relate, these people were never seen again.
But the immediate danger was now over, and directly ahead was a long, low stretch of marsh land, with several little bays and inlets. Straight for one of the inlets went the ship, and soon reached a spot only a few feet from solid ground. Then an anchor was thrown out, what little sail was up was lowered; and the perilous voyage came to an end.
At first those who were on the ship could not realize the truth of what had occurred—that the vessel had come to a tolerably safe landing, and that the dangers of shipwreck or starvation were past. They stared at one another and at the captain.
“We have struck somewhere on the southwest coast of Korea,” said Captain Toyano. “The vessel will be as safe here as if she was tied up in Nagasaki harbor so far as our passengers are concerned. But I am afraid that the gallant O-Taka has seen the last of her sea trips,” and he turned away sadly, for the vessel was his sole property and all he had to depend upon for a living. Let it be added here that, later on, the ship was drawn from the inlet and overhauled, and proved almost as seaworthy as ever, much to the old salt’s satisfaction.
There was nothing to do but to wait until daylight, and, once the vessel was properly secured, by the anchor and by ropes tied to stakes driven into the marsh land, all on board but a few sailors went to sleep. Gilbert was glad to rest once again, and now made up for the greater part of the sleep lost during the voyage.
In the morning half a dozen Korean fishermen appeared, well bundled up, and with their queer-looking hats pulled well down over their ears. They were much surprised to find a ship at hand, but promised to do what they could for those on board. None of them had heard of the war between Russia and Japan, but when they did they at once took sides with their Japanese neighbors. They promised to bring dried fish, and some rice, as well as fresh water, and out of his own pocket Gilbert paid for some flour, some dried fruits, and some beans.
“I don’t mind your rice and dried fish,” he said to Jiru Siko, “but I can’t live on it right along.”
“Rice and fish very good,” replied the little brown man, who, now that the danger was over, was quite himself once more. “Make much muscle, good wind—can live on rice and fish.”