The wind was blowing him on; but it was still in his power to pass the end of the rock, or drive his dory upon the windward side, where the ocean swells broke with least force. If he could only be sure which rock it was! But he could distinguish nothing. All was as strange to him as if he had been adrift on the lonesomest unknown sea in the world.
If it was "The Calf," then "The Tail" should be at the other end, and "The Old Cow" beyond. If "The Cow," "The Calf" must be in the other direction, and a little farther seaward; he might pass between the two.
He was getting used to his clumsy paddle; with it he kept his dory off as well as he could, but in a state of terrible anxiety, thinking his life might depend on what he should decide to do the next minute. He was still hesitating, when accident decided for him.
The skiff was headed to the wind, against which he continued to paddle, when suddenly a billow shot over a sunken projection of the ledge, smiting the end of the boat with a force that slung it half about in an instant.
Olly felt a small deluge of water dash over and drench him from behind. He was past thinking of his new clothes now; he thought of the dory. Even then it might have escaped capsizing if it had not met at the same instant a cross-wave, which tumbled aboard from the other side.
The two filled it so nearly that the water rushed cold across his knees; and he knew that nothing he could do would prevent the boat from sinking. Indeed, as the very next wave swept in, it settled on one side, and then slowly rolled over. To save himself, Olly sprang up, grasping first the uppermost rail, then clinging to the bottom of the overturned skiff, until another billow swept him off.
He was an accomplished swimmer, as I think I have said before; and now that skill stood him in good stead. In the first moment of his immersion he lost his bearings; but rising with a wave, he looked about him from its crest, and saw the little island not a hundred feet away.
He made for it at once, directing his course to a spot which the overleaping surge did not reach.
The waves were dashing all about the rock, to be sure; and to land safely upon it at any point would require not only vigilance, but good fortune.
I hardly know whether he was much frightened or not; he himself couldn't have told. He didn't stop for a moment to reason about the situation, but obeying the mere instinct of self-preservation, he swam to the ledge.