“It’s very low land,” said Arthur.
“It’s a mere sand-bank,” said Bruce.
“A sand-bank,” said Bart, “with a flag-staff in the middle of the ocean! It’s queer.”
“Yes,” said Bruce; “and remember this, too, that this sand-bank in the ocean, with this flagstaff, is probably not very far away from the coast of Nova Scotia. Now, put this and that together, boys, and where do you think we are?”
At this question they all looked at one another in silence, and for a time no answer was made.
“Well,” said Tom, at length, “I’ll tell you what it is, boys. I believe that another prophecy of Captain Ferguson’s is turning out true. He prophesied that we’d be thrown upon Anticosti, and so we were. He prophesied that we’d be thrown on another place, and this is that place. You all know what I mean. I mean Sable Island.”
The boys made no remark. This thought had been in the minds of all of them. It was a thought that brought the deepest anxiety and gloom. For, bad as Anticosti was, there was one worse place; and that place was the very sand-bank before them—Sable Island!
The boys had all along been hoping for deliverance, either in the shape of some passing vessel or some sign of land. But this land, which they had approached unwittingly, seemed to be surrounded by a terror far worse than anything that was connected with their present situation. For Sable Island—that treacherous sand-bank in the midst of the sea—had always been known to all of them as the dread of seamen, the trap of ships, and the graveyard of shipwrecked sailors. The solitary flag-staff rose there out of the low island, as though to warn them away, like a signal of danger; and yet it was impossible for them to move away. Without sails, and without a compass, they were helpless; and there seemed now no prospect, except to go ashore there and meet their doom.
Tom was the first to rouse himself. “Captain,” said he, “here’s Sable Island. Come and take a good look at it, for we’re going ashore.” Captain Corbet had been so intent upon his work of patching the old sail, that he had heard and seen nothing of this excitement among the boys. These words of Tom came, therefore, suddenly and abruptly, and filled him with a terror equal to theirs. He started as though he had been shot. His needle dropped from his hands. For a few moments he sat staring at Tom; and then he rose slowly to his feet, and going over to where the boys stood, he looked out over the waters to where their eyes were directed. He stood staring for a long time in perfect silence.
“Sable Island!” he at length said, in a low voice. “Wal, boys,—I didn’t ever think—I’d ever live—to see—this here day. I’ve ben a tryin all my life, boys, to keep clar of this here island; but fate’s stronger than the hand of man,—an here we air!”