We sat in dismal silence for a time. The wind seemed to be abating, but the waves continued their mad rolling as vigorously as ever. Finally Madam de Jiminez expressed a wish to return to her stateroom. Nux understood Spanish, for our blacks were marvels at acquiring languages and could speak half a dozen tongues; so the steward assisted the old lady to her berth and made her as comfortable as possible. After a long argument Lucia prevailed upon her mother to go to bed, and the moaning, despairing woman was led to her room. Perhaps inspired by this example Uncle Naboth decided to “turn in,” but the two De Jiminez stuck it out and remained all night in the cabin, deploring their hard luck in choicest Spanish. As much to escape their moody companionship as anything else I went to my own room and lay down upon the bunk without removing my clothing. It was then about three o’clock, and although the motion of the vessel had greatly moderated I found it no easy task to stay in my berth. Being at the mercy of the waves the Seagull performed some queer antics, and once or twice I wondered if she wouldn’t “turn turtle,” so far over did the waves keel her. But, queerly enough, we get used to anything in time, and as I was much exhausted I finally fell into a doze, and then into a deep slumber.
CHAPTER VI
A FREAKISH SHIPWRECK
Joe wakened me at early dawn, laying a wet, clammy hand in mine and jerking me to a sitting position.
“Get up, Sam!” he said. “Something’s going to happen pretty quick.”
“Are we leaking?” I asked as I tumbled from the berth.
“Yes; but that isn’t it. Come on deck; and step lively while you’ve got the chance.”
He rushed away with the words and I followed him closely.
The sky was gray and overcast, and although it was so early there was light enough to observe distinctly our surroundings. The waves were simply gigantic and the disabled Seagull was like a fisherman’s bob in their grasp. The cargo had not shifted, fortunately, owing to its being so heavy and so carefully stowed, so we kept on our keel as well as the sea would allow us. I found nothing terrifying in the view from the deck until my eye caught sight of a dark object looming ahead, which I instantly recognized as the rocky shore of an island. The waves were bearing us rapidly toward it, and we were helpless to resist.
“See there! and there!” cried Joe, pointing to right and left.
I saw. Rocks were everywhere, on all sides of us. We were right in the heart of a group of South Sea islands—what group, we had no idea. My father’s stern, set face showed from the poop; the sailors stood motionless at the rail. The two De Jiminez, father and son, clung together and stared with blanched faces at the threatening coast.