“Then it’s all up, boys,” observed Briant; “for nearly every morsel o’ the prog that wos on the top o’ the bank is washed away.”
This piece of news fell like a thunderbolt on the men, and no one spoke for some minutes. At last the captain said—
“Well, lads, we must do the best we can. Thank God, we are still alive; so let us see whether we can’t make our present quarters more comfortable.”
Setting his men the example, Captain Dunning began to collect the few boards, and bits of canvas that chanced to have been left on that side of the rocky ledge when the hut was removed to the other side, and with these materials a very partial and insufficient shelter was put up. But the space thus inclosed was so small that they were all obliged to huddle together in a mass. Those farthest from the rock were not altogether protected from the spray that flew over their heads, while those nearest to it were crushed and incommoded by their companions.
Thus they passed that eventful night and all the following day, during which the storm raged with such fury that no one dared venture out to ascertain how much, if any, of their provisions and stores were left to them.
During the second night, a perceptible decrease in the violence of the gale took place, and before morning it ceased altogether. The sun rose in unclouded splendour, sending its bright and warm beams up into the clear blue sky and down upon the ocean, which glittered vividly as it still swelled and trembled with agitation. All was serene and calm in the sky, while below the only sound that broke upon the ear was the deep and regular dash of the great breakers that fell upon the shores of the islet, and encircled it with a fringe of purest white.
On issuing from their confined uneasy nest in the cleft of the rock, part of the shipwrecked crew hastened anxiously to the top of the bank to see how much of their valuable store of food was left, while others ran to the spot in Fairyland where the keel of the new boat had been laid. The latter party found to their joy that all was safe, everything having been well secured; but a terrible sight met the eyes of the other men. Not a vestige of all their store remained! The summit of the sandbank was as smooth as on the day they landed there. Casks, boxes, barrels—all were gone; everything had been swept away into the sea!
Almost instinctively the men turned their eyes towards the reef on which the Red Eric had grounded, each man feeling that in the wrecked vessel all his hope now remained. It, too, was gone! The spot on which it had lain was now washed by the waves, and a few broken planks and spars on the beach were all that remained to remind them of their ocean home!
The men looked at each other with deep despondency expressed in their countenances. They were haggard and worn from exposure, anxiety, and want of rest; and as they stood there in their wet, torn garments, they looked the very picture of despair.
“There’s one chance for us yet, lads,” exclaimed Tim Rokens, looking carefully round the spot on which they stood.