"Hang on for your lives!" the old sailor cried.
Black masses loomed out of the darkness to leeward. A great wave picked up the helpless boat and flung it with crashing, breaking timbers, upon the rocks.
CHAPTER XIX.
WRECKED.
The boys had obeyed the old sailor's order, and, though greatly shaken by the shock, they retained their hold on the boat.
"Quick, get on the rocks," shouted the Captain. "She'll pound to pieces in a jiffy."
Fortunately, the boat's bow had been driven up on the ledge nearly out of the water. The boys dropped over the side followed by the old sailor, and, though beaten and bruised against the sharp rocks succeeded in struggling out upon the one which reared itself above the water. They glanced back to where the boat had struck, but, short as had been their struggle out, it had witnessed the destruction of the staunch craft. Only that portion of her bow lodged upon the reef remained intact, the balance of her hull was a mass of twisted, splintered, broken planks.
Great as was the danger from which they had escaped, their present position was still far from safe. The slippery rock afforded but insecure footing and it was frequently swept by the larger seas. At such times, they had all they could do to keep from being swept off its slimy surface.
"I reckon, we've struck on a reef," the Captain said, anxiously. "It all depends upon the tide whether we are safe or not. If it's low tide, now, high tide will cover this rock so deep that we'll not be able to hang on to it."