Picked up Adrift / Illustrated

by James De Mille

But from these thoughts they were all roused by a sudden cry of joy. It burst forth from Captain Corbet. Every one started and turned to see what had happened. They saw an exhilarating sight, which at once roused them from their gloom. There at the stern stood their venerable friend, a smile of exultation on his aged face, tears of joy in his mild eyes, one hand waving his hat in the air, and the other pointing over the water.

“It’s come! It’s come! Hooray!”

This was what he said, and as he said it the boys looked, and saw all over the water a gentle ripple. Then they knew it all. The long-wished-for wind had at last come, and they were freed from their long and irksome imprisonment. In an instant they all rushed to hoist the sails. As they hoisted them they felt the gentle air on their faces, and they saw the sails swelling at its touch. Soon all sail was hoisted, and Captain Corbet, with an exultant smile, stood once more at the helm, and the Antelope began to move through the waters.

“I knowed it,” said he, “I knowed it all along, and I said it, I did. That thar wind was bound to come. I felt it in my bones; yea, down to my butes. I saw how down in the mouth you all felt, and didn’t like to make you too san-goo-wine, but I knowed it, I did, I knowed it, all the same; and here, it has come at last, sure enough.”

The progress of the Antelope was slow, but it was progress, and that was enough. All the boys stood watching the ship, which they were gradually approaching. Solomon stood watching with the rest. Once he suggested the subject of dinner; but though before the wind came they had all been so hungry, they seemed now to have lost their appetites. The excitement of suspense was too strong, and none of them felt able to eat until they had reached the ship, and joined their friends again. And so they moved slowly over the water.

They soon perceived that the ship was not half so far away as they had supposed, and then they discovered, not long after, the truth of her situation. They could see this better than Bart and Bruce had been able to do, for they had been sitting low down in a boat, while these were standing on the deck, or the taffrail of the schooner, and thus could make out the true character of the stranger more easily.

As they came within sight, and learned this, they began to look eagerly about for signs of life. That the ship was waterlogged they could see, but whether there was any one aboard or not they could not see. What had become of the boat? Where were Bruce and Bart? They could see no signs of any boat whatever. But signs of life at length did appear in the shape of smoke from the cook’s galley. Arthur, who was examining the ship through the glass, was the first to detect this, and it was not long before all the boys could see it with the naked eye. Smoke of itself would have indicated human life; but smoke from the cook’s galley indicated something more, and was eloquently suggestive of those joys of the table to which they had too long been strangers. It served to assure them that their difficulties were approaching an end, and that smoke from the cook’s galley was of itself enough to drive away the last vestige of despondency.

But, in the mean while, what had become of Bruce and Bart? That was the question which every one asked himself, without being able to answer. Where was the boat? They could not see it anywhere. Could the boys have gone on board the ship? They must have done so. The water had been too calm to admit of the probability of any evil happening to them. They must have boarded the ship.

But where were Bruce and Bart now?

No one could tell.