Twice his head struck the keel of the scudding yawl, twice he was submerged, choked and blinded.
A third contact with the yawl landed a hard blow right across the temple, and Dave Fearless lost consciousness.
CHAPTER XVI
LANDED
Dave must have gone through a fearful experience during the next hour. Its details he never knew. Familiar with the chances and accidents of the seafaring situation from childhood, however, when he opened his eyes again he could figure out how kind his natural element had been to him.
He lay on a sandy shore. When his senses first came back a positive thrill permeated his frame.
A joyful cry arose to his lips. It was irrepressible. He was bruised, battered, soaked through, but the realization that he had landed, that he once more rested on firm hard soil, overcame every sensation of discomfort and pain.
"Landed," murmured Dave, in great delight, and that was the only idea he could take into his confused mind for the moment.
He opened his eyes. It was clear starlight. He lay on a sandy beach. The waves lapped him to the knees. Beside him was the yawl, stove in at one side. He was still attached to it by the wrist held firmly in the rope loop.
The yawl had proved a loyal convoy. As the tempest swept it along, Dave must have been held at least a part of the time out of the water. This had saved his life. Perhaps, he thought, he might at times also have lain across the upturned keel of the yawl.