Nerving myself up to the undertaking, I slowly and carefully began to work my way higher up. My head struck the cask. I put up my hand, the bottom yielded, and now exerting all my remaining strength I seized the edges and drew myself up, holding well on with my hands and feet until I had got my head and shoulders into the interior. Throwing myself on my chest, I felt round and discovered some beckets, evidently intended for the purpose of enabling a person situated as I was to draw himself up. I then, grasping the rope which hung from the top of the pole which passed through the cask, dragged myself up and placed my feet at the bottom. I pressed down the trap. I felt more secure than I had been for many hours. Had I not still had a post to cling to after the strain my muscles had so long endured, I could not have stood upright.
Several cross-pieces secured the top of the cask to the post. I shoved my head through them, and could now look down on the wild and raging waters with which I was surrounded. Still I dare not quit my hold of the post, fancying that if I pressed on one side of the cask or the other, it might give way. Not that there was the slightest chance of that in reality. I did not long contemplate the fearful scene, but overcome by what I had gone through, I sank down to the bottom of the cask, and, wet and cold as I was, fell into a troubled slumber.
Chapter Twenty.
In the beacon—The storm continues—The tide turns—I again seek for food—I meet with another accident—Brighter weather—A sail in sight—My hopes and fears—My signal—My rescue—A voice from the deep—Three old friends meet again—On board the “Falcon”—The good captain—Sydney harbour, and why I did not go ashore there—The homeward voyage—Mark and I learn navigation—My reception at Liverpool—Sad, sad news—My journey to Sandgate—I enter Mr Butterfield’s office, and have had no cause to regret doing so.
I awoke to find the storm still raging around me; but as I opened my eyes I was sensible that a faint light came in from the top of the cask. I was cramped with the uncomfortable position in which I had been sleeping. When I looked out over the edge of the cask, though the seas were tossing as wildly as before, I perceived that the rock below me was once more uncovered, owing, as I knew, to the tide having ebbed. At first I thought of descending; then I recollected that the waters might again rise to their former level, and I feared that I might not have strength to regain my sheltering-place. I therefore remained where I was. I shortly began to feel the pangs of hunger and thirst. I eagerly felt in my pocket for some biscuit, forgetting that I had consumed the last the night before. I found a few crumbs, and with difficulty got them down, having no water to moisten my dry mouth. Still, the wet state of my clothes prevented me from suffering so much from thirst as I should otherwise have done.
The storm, I knew, would not last for ever. Should it continue much longer, however, I might succumb before I could possibly be relieved; but having been hitherto so mercifully preserved, I did not despair. Feeling weary of standing, I again crouched down at the bottom of the cask. I had reason to bless the persons who had placed it there. As I thus sat, half asleep and half awake, it seemed to me that the wind blew with less violence than it had done before. I got up to ascertain if this was the case. On looking round I felt confident that it was so. It appeared to me, also, that the seas were tumbling about with less violence than they had done on the previous day. If so, they might not again cover the rock. I was well accustomed to notice the tides on our own shore, and I remembered that, after the highest of the spring tides, they were said by the fishermen to “take off”—that is, to rise to a less elevation every subsequent day. Thus, even should the storm continue, the rock might not again be covered. This idea brought considerable relief to me.
My hunger made me resolve to descend to search for clams. Perhaps I should find a fish thrown on the rock. The thought of obtaining some food made me get down at once. I opened the trap, and, grasping the rope, slid down with perfect ease. Already the rocks over which I had clambered from the boat were bare, for the tide had fallen rapidly. I knew that it would fall in proportion as it had risen. I went as close to the edge as I could venture without running the risk of being carried off. The rocks, which were washed by the fierce seas, were slippery in the extreme, and I feared that any clams clinging to them must have been washed away. Still, hunger urged me on. I made my way along the top of the coral reef. I observed several small pools ahead. There must be creatures of some sort within, which would enable me to satisfy the cravings of hunger. I had gone some little distance, when I slipped, and came down on the rock. In my weak state I felt unable again to rise for some minutes, though I was not seriously hurt.
The clouds, some time before this, began to break, and suddenly the sun shone forth, his warm rays cheering me up. As I cast my eyes round, something glittered brightly just for a moment in one of the pools. Rising with renewed strength, I scrambled, faster than I had moved before, towards it, and great was my delight to see a good-sized fish floundering in the pool. It attempted to escape me, but I pounced down upon it as a sea-bird would have done, and, giving it a blow on the head, quickly despatched it. I was too hungry to wait even to partially prepare it by hanging it up in the sun, and, taking out my knife, quickly cut some slices from the thickest part of the body. I did not stop to consider whether it was wholesome, but ate it raw as it was. I looked about in the hope of finding another, and was successful; it was of the same species as the first. I could exist now without the clams; and, therefore, thinking it prudent not to run any risk in trying to obtain them, I returned to the beacon.