Dutch had been dragged on board, and, like the captain, he helped at an oar, wondering the while at the power with which they were sucked towards the whirlpool, round which they at last began to sail.
No earthly power could have saved them had they not been able to delay their backward progress for a few minutes; as it was, when they neared the vortex, and over which a barrel was drawn, the bows of the boat were about to plunge down, but by a tremendous effort. Dutch dragged the little vessel round, and a succession of fierce tugs sent her once more away from the centre, and another minute’s struggle saved them, for the waters were less troubled now, and the danger past.
As they lay off, though, they saw very few of the objects selected return to the surface, and at last, heartsick, but thankful for their escape, they gave up the idea of the raft as hopeless, and now steadily rowed to join their consort.
Story 1--Chapter XL.
A Dreary Time.
The occupants of the two boats, as they lay together that evening beneath the spangled canopy of heaven, little thought that the third of the schooner’s boats lay within a few miles of them, with Lauré on board, or they would not have slept in turn so peacefully and in such calm hope of being saved, for as the schooner sank with its treasure it seemed to all on board that with the silver sank the kind of curse that had been upon them all along.
It was an empty sense of superstition, but it influenced them and cheered them on through the long, sunny, scorching days as they bent to their oars and toiled on; and in the evenings, when, taking advantage of the soft breezes, the little sails were spread, and they crept on ever north and east in the hope of gaining the course of one of the vessels going south or west. But the days stole slowly by, and no sail gladdened their sight, and at last, as the water grew low in the little breakers and the provisions threatened to become exhausted, Dutch felt his heart sink, and told himself with a bitter smile that they had not yet worn out the power of the curse, if curse there were.
After long days of rowing, in which every man in the boats took part in urging them up the sides of the long rollers and then down their hill-like descent, the feeling of weary lassitude made itself more and more felt. They suffered, too, from their cramped position in the boats, but no one murmured. Even Rasp and Oakum ceased to wrangle, and the former pursed up his wrinkled mouth and followed the example of Oakum in whistling for a favouring wind.