Lost in the Fog

by James De Mille

Quaco Ledge!

That was the place which Captain Corbet had described. He recalled now the full description. Here it lay before him; upon it he stood; and he found that it corresponded in every respect with the description that the captain had given. If this were indeed so, and the description were true,—and he could not doubt this,—how desperate his situation was, and how he had been deceived in his false hopes! Far, far away was he from any shore!—in the middle of the bay; on a place avoided by all—a place which he should shun above all other places if he hoped for final escape!

And now he was as eager to quit this ill-omened place as he had once been to reach it. The tide was yet low. He tried to push the boat down, but could not. He saw that he would have to wait. So he got inside the boat, and, sitting down, he waited patiently. The time passed slowly, and Tom looked despairingly out over the water. Something attracted his attention. It was a long pole, which had struck against the edge of the shoal. He got out of the boat, and, securing it, he walked back again. It was some waif that had been drifting about till it was thus cast at his feet. He thought of taking it for a mast, and making use of the sail. The idea was an attractive one. He pulled the sail out, unfolded it, and found it to be the jib of some schooner. He cut off one end of this, and then with his knife began to make a hole in the seat for his mast. It was very slow work, but he succeeded at last in doing it, and inserted the pole. Then he fastened the sail to it. He was rather ignorant of navigation, but he had a general idea of the science, and thought he would learn by experience. By cutting off the rope from the edge of the sail he obtained a sheet, and taking off the cover of the biscuit box a second time, he put this aside to use as a rudder.

But now, in what direction ought he to steer?

This was an insoluble problem. He could tell now by the flow of the current the points of the compass, but could not tell in which direction he ought to go. The New Brunswick coast he thought was nearest, but he dreaded it. It seemed perilous and unapproachable. He did not think much better of the Nova Scotia coast. He thought rather of Cape d'Or, as a promising place of refuge, or the Petitcodiac. So, after long deliberation, he decided on steering back again, especially as the wind was blowing directly up the bay.

By the time that he had finished these preparations and deliberations the boat was afloat. Eagerly Tom pushed it away from the shoal; eagerly, and with trembling hands, he let the sail unfold, and thrust the board into the water astern. The boat followed the impulse of the wind, and the young sailor saw with delight that his experiment was successful, and before long the dark rocks of Quaco Ledge were lost to view.

Now, where there is a definite object to steer by, or a compass to guide one, and a decent rudder, even an inexperienced hand can manage to come somewhere near the point that he aims at. But take a boat like Tom's, and a rude and suddenly extemporized sail, with no other rudder than a bit of board, with no compass, and a surrounding of thick fog, and it would puzzle even an experienced sailor to guide himself aright. Tom soon suspected that his course was rather a wild one; his board in particular became quite unmanageable, and he was fatigued with trying to hold it in the water. So he threw it aside, and boldly trusted to his sail alone.

The boat seemed to him to be making very respectable progress. The wind was fresh, and the sea only moderate. The little waves beat over the bows, and there was quite a commotion astern. Tom thought he was doing very well, and heading as near as possible towards the Petitcodiac. Besides, in his excitement at being thus saved from mere blind drifting, he did not much care where he went, for he felt assured that he was now on the way out of his difficulties.

In an hour or two after leaving the ledge it grew quite dark, and Tom saw that it would be necessary to prepare for the night. His preparations were simple, consisting in eating a half dozen biscuit. He now began to feel a little thirsty, but manfully struggled against this feeling. Gradually the darkness grew deeper, until at last it assumed the intense character of the preceding night. But still Tom sat up, and the boat went on. The wind did not slacken, nor did the boat's progress cease. Hours passed by in this way. As to the tides, Tom could not tell now very well whether they were rising or falling, and, in fact, he was quite indifferent, being satisfied fully with his progress. As long as the wind distended his sail, and bore the boat onward, he cared not whether the tide favored or opposed.

Hours passed, but such was Tom's excitement that he still bore up, and thought nothing of rest or of sleep. His attention was needed, too, and so he kept wide awake, and his ears were ever on the stretch to hear the slightest sound. But at last the intense excitement and the long fatigue began to overpower him. Still he struggled against his weakness, and still he watched and listened.