Story 3—Chapter VI.
In Extremity.
“What? a ship really?” said Jonathan, sharing the other’s excitement. “Oh, I’m so glad, so glad!”
“Yes,” said David, recovering a bit from his hysterical fit, and speaking in a more collected manner. “But she’s crossing our course, and if she does not see us and take in sail, I’m afraid we won’t be able to catch her up!”
What was a gale to those in the cutter, with a gunwale hardly a foot above the surface of the water, was only just a fair wind to the full-rigged ship which was sailing on a bowline away from them almost hull-down on the horizon, with all her canvas spread that could draw, to take advantage of the breeze.
The boat’s head was pointed right towards the vessel, whose course was nearly at right angles to theirs, and David put the helm up to bring them nearer the wind so that they might intercept her; but the cutter dipped so much in the waves, and shipped such a lot of water, that he had to let fall off again and run free, much to his mortification, as the stranger was steadily ploughing her way ahead; and, proceeding in the direction they did, they would fetch far to leeward of her.
“Oh, it’s cruel,” said Jonathan, “to sail away like that and leave us!”
“We mustn’t accuse them wrongfully,” said David, who, of course, was more versed in nautical matters. “Ships when far at sea don’t keep much of a look-out, as they would have to do in the channel or near land. And, besides, old fellow, you must recollect that although we can see her plainly, we to those on board would appear but the tiniest speck in the distance, if we were seen at all, and would be taken for a wandering albatross, or one of those Molly hawks like that we caught this morning. They don’t see us, evidently, or they would take in sail.”
Jonathan, however, would not give up hope, but continued to wave his shirt—which he had taken off for the purpose—in the bow of the boat, until she lessened as she drew away, and finally, disappeared below the horizon as night came on with hasty footsteps—as it always does in southern latitudes—shutting out everything from their gaze.