This seemed the more probable, from the fact, that we were to the west of the island, when we lost sight of it, and that the great equatorial current, which traverses the Pacific and Indian oceans, has a prevailing westerly course, though among the more extensive groups and clusters of islands, it is so often deflected hither and thither, by the obstacles which it encounters, or turned upon itself, in eddies or counter-currents, that no certain calculations can be made respecting it. Morton, however, did not consider this supposition sufficient to explain the difficulty.
“I should judge,” said he, “that in a clear day, such an island might be seen fifteen or twenty miles, and we cannot have drifted so great a distance.”
“It might perhaps be seen,” said Arthur, “as far as that, from the mast-head of a ship, or even from her deck, but not from a small boat hardly raised above the surface of the water. At our present level, eight or ten miles would be enough to sink it completely.”
At length, when it was broad day, and from the appearance of the eastern sky, the sun was just about to rise, Morton stepped the mast and climbed to the top, in the hope that from that additional elevation, slight as it was, he might catch a glimpse of land. There was by this time light enough, as he admitted, to see any thing that could be seen at all, and after making a deliberate survey of our whole horizon, he was fully convinced that we had drifted completely away from the island. “I give it up,” he said, as he slid down the mast, “we are at sea, beyond all question.”
Presently Max awoke. He cast a quick, surprised look around, and at first seemed greatly shocked. He speedily recovered himself, however, and after another, and closer, scrutiny of the horizon, thought that he detected an appearance like that of land in the south. For a moment there was again the flutter of excited hope, as every eye was turned eagerly in that direction; but it soon subsided. A brief examination satisfied us all, that what we saw, was but a low bank of clouds lying against the sky.
“This really begins to look serious,” said I; “what are we to do?”
“It strikes me,” replied Morton, “that we are pretty much relieved from the necessity of considering that question; our only part for the present seems to be a passive one.”
“I can’t fully persuade myself that this is real,” said Max; “it half seems like an ugly dream, from which we should awake by-and-by, and draw a long breath at the relief of finding it no more than a dream.”
“We are miserably provisioned for a sea voyage,” said Morton; “but I believe the breaker is half full of water; without that we should indeed be badly off.”
“There is not a drop in it,” said Arthur, shaking his head, and he lifted the breaker and shook it lightly—it was quite empty.