“Land ho!” shouted one of the men at that moment from the top of a cask, which formed the outlook, where, every day and all day, a man was stationed to watch for a sail or a sign of land.
An electric shock could not have produced greater excitement than these two words.
“Where away?” exclaimed the captain, leaping up beside the look-out.
“On the port-bow, sir,—there!” pointing eagerly.
“I don’t see it—oh—yes—no. It’s only a cloud. Who ever heard of the port-bow of a raft? Bah! your eyes have been squintin’. Not a bit of it, I see it—low lyin’; why, I see the palms—and I see the nuts—ah, and the monkeys, no doubt a-eatin’ of ’em—hip, hip, hurrah!”
Such were some of the exclamations, ending in a long, deep-toned, British cheer, with which the discovery of land was greeted.
In a short time all uncertainty was removed, and the land was clearly made out to be a small coral island with its narrow outlying reef, and a few cocoa-nut palms waving thereon.
The joy of the shipwrecked crew was excessive—somewhat in proportion to their previous depression. They shook bands, laughed, cheered, and in some cases wept, while a few clasped their hands, looked up, and audibly thanked God.
“You’ll soon get ashore,” said Polly, laying her hand on Ben Trench’s arm.
“Ay, and the cocoa-nut milk will set you up and make you fat in no time,” added Watty Wilkins.