It soon became evident that the tide was still rising, though slowly. The waves began sweeping over the flat rock with such violence that the tired, wretched, anxious, little party could hardly maintain their footing. To the right and left of them, rose other higher masses of rock, but they did not dare to attempt to reach them through the darkness and the boiling surf. Wet, cold, hungry, and wretched; they clung to their insecure refuge until day began to break in the East. With the coming of light they strained their brine-smarting eyes to discover what manner of place it was upon which they had been thrown. The outlook was not reassuring. They were, as the Captain had surmised, on a point of low-lying reef, most of which was constantly wave-swept by the monstrous surges. To the East of them, lay a low, marshy shore dotted here and there with small islands covered with cedar hammocks, but between them and the islands was at least two miles of foaming water. The boys gazed wistfully at the longed-for land.
"We can't make it," Charley said, sadly. "Chris might, perhaps, be able to swim it, but it would be a long swim for the rest of us at any time, and, tired and weak as we are now, it would be impossible. We will have to stick it out here until the storm goes down a bit, then, try to fashion some kind of a raft out of the planks of the diving boat."
"We can't be far from Judson," said the Captain, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "A boat may come by an' pick us up any minute."
But the boys were not cheered by any such prospect. They knew that the chance of any boat being out in such weather was very small indeed. One fact, however, gave them a little hope; the tide was undoubtedly falling. It had evidently been almost at its height when they had landed on the rock.
"I wish we had something to eat," Walter sighed, "we have had nothing but a little bread in two days. I begin to feel weak all over."
Chris gazed thoughtfully at the water on the shore-side of the rock. "I reckon, I might find somethin' down dar," he observed. "I'se goin' to try it anyway. You white chilluns has sho' got to hab somethin' to eat."
Although the water was somewhat smoother to the lee of the rocks, it boiled and foamed there threateningly and the boys endeavored to dissuade the plucky little negro from the attempt, but their objections only made him the more determined.
"Golly! you chilluns doan know what a diver dis nigger is," he said, proudly. "You jes' stay still an' watch him now." He removed his clothes, handing them to Charley to hold, slipped over the side of the rock, and sank down beneath the surface. He was gone so long that the watchers had begun to grow anxious when he reappeared, blowing like a porpoise. In one hand, he held tightly clenched, a big stone crab and a large conch.
"Take 'em," he exclaimed, "I'se goin' down again. Dar's heaps more of dem on de bottom."
He continued diving until he had brought up six more conchs and two more crabs, then he crawled out on the rock completely exhausted, and held up one foot for their inspection. There was a tiny puncture in the sole of it from which the blood was slowly trickling.