CHAPTER XV
THEIR FIRST SABBATH ON THE ISLAND, AND THE NIGHT AND MORNING THATSUCCEEDED
The morning sun rose with uncommon beauty, and the young people havingretired early to bed, were prepared for early rising. Frank nowvolunteered to aid his sister in preparing for breakfast; his repentancewas shown not by words but by deeds; and though it was only an act ofduty performed towards his sister and the company, it was in part a veryproper beginning in the observance of a day belonging to Him whoencourages us to think that he regards whatever we do from a principleof duty to our fellow men, as being done to himself.
At the time of worship they gathered with more than usual solemnityaround the accustomed place, and read the portion of Scripture for themorning. It was a chapter of unusual interest to them all, andparticularly so to Harold. He had become increasingly thoughtful sincetheir accident. This morning he appeared to be more serious than ever,and once or twice, when his turn came to read, his voice was so low andunsteady, that he could scarcely be heard. There was evidently somecause of distress to that youth of strong mind and pure life which theothers knew not.
The Sabbath passed, as may be readily conceived, without being enlivenedby any incidents of a particularly interesting character. It canscarcely be said that they did actually sanctify the Sabbath, for therewas nothing spiritual, nor even hearty in their exercises; and theythemselves felt that there was a great deficiency somewhere.
Their unmethodical though conscientious effort was useful in teachingthem to look beyond mere externals for any real good to be derived.They learned they were imperfect even in their best performances, andwithout merit when they had done what they could.
Late in the evening they went to the seashore, and sitting upon a bankof clean sand near their flag-staff, looked upon the sea from which theyhad made so providential an escape, and to which they expected once moreto commit themselves. A light breeze had been blowing from the west allday, yet light as it was it had been sufficient to raise the waves, andmake them roar and break with ominous violence upon the shore. Thisaction of the breeze revealed to them another fact, that two or threemiles to the seaward there was a long and apparently endless chain ofbreakers extending north and south, as far as the eye could reach. Theycould see the large waves gather, and the white tops sparkle with foam.Here was another cause for thankfulness. Had the present wind beenblowing on the day of their accident, they could not possibly havecrossed that foaming bar; they would have been kept at sea, and been toa certainty lost in the sudden squall that arose that night.
But the sight of these breakers was also a source of disquiet, in viewof their intended voyage. It was evident, as they supposed, that theycould not sail with safety, when the wind was blowing with anyfreshness, either on or off the shore, on account of the rough swell,caused by the first, and of the danger of being carried out to sea bythe last. They conversed long and anxiously upon this new feature intheir case; and then, by general consent, kneeled together upon thesands, in conscious helplessness, and implored Him who is the Lord ofthe seas, to care for them and direct their steps.
When they left the beach, the light of day was fading into the hues ofnight; and several faint stars peeped timidly from the yet illuminatedsky. Mary and Frank retired to their room soon after dark. The largerboys sat for some time, conversing upon their situation and prospects,when observing the sky to cloud rapidly with the indications of a suddenchange of weather, they went to the landing, made their boat secure aspossible, and then laid down to rest.
The wind soon began to sigh in the branches of the huge oak above them.Each puff became stronger than the one before it. They could hear theroar of the distant surf, bursting angrily over the sandy barrier, andthundering on the shore. It was the beginning of a hurricane. The boyssprang from their pallets, and dressing themselves hastily, seized theax and hatchet, and drove the tent-pins deeply into the ground. Whilethus engaged, Nanny and her kids came up, and showed a strongdisposition to take refuge in the tent. The dogs also gave signs ofuneasiness, following them around with drooping tails, whining andshivering, as they looked with half shut, winking eyes, in the directionof the wind. These signs of terror in their dumb companions only madethe boys work faster, and do their work more securely. They did notcontent themselves with driving down the tent-pins; they took the logscut for firewood, and laid them on the windward edges of the tent, toprevent the wind from entering below and blowing the canvas from abovetheir heads. Had they the time they would have laid the sails of theirboat, which they had hastily unrigged, above the canvas of the tent; butere they could accomplish this, the wind burst upon them with the furyof a tornado. The grand old tree quivered to its roots, and groaned inevery limb. The tent fluttered and tugged at the ropes with such forcethat the deeply driven pins could scarcely hold it down. It wasfortunate that it had been pitched under the oak, for the long lowerbranches, which at ordinary times almost swept the ground, were straineddownwards so far, that with their loads of moss, they formed a valuablebarrier against the wind.
There was little sleeping for the boys that night. Scarcely had theyentered the tent before the rain commenced. It came in heavy drifts,and was carried with such force that, notwithstanding the protectionafforded by the oak, it insinuated itself through the close threads ofthe canvas, and under the edges of the tent. Mary had been awaked bythe hammering, and Frank was now roused by the dropping of water in hisface. When Robert entered their room to see how they fared, hediscovered them seated on a trunk, wrapped in their father's cloak, andsheltered by that very umbrella which Frank had been provident enough tobring. They rolled up their bedding and clothes, and protected as bestthey could whatever seemed most in danger from the wet. They sat onboxes and trunks, and wrapped themselves in cloaks and blankets; but itwas in vain; they could not guard themselves at the same time from therain above and the driven water from below. They sat cold and shiveringuntil three o'clock in the morning, when the rain ceased and the windabated. Then they made a fire; and just before day were enabled, bylying on trunks and boxes, to indulge themselves in a short uneasysleep.
The clear sun shone over the main land before the wearied company awoke.Harold was the first on his feet, and calling to Robert, they hastenedout to see what damage had been done. Mary also joined them, followedby Frank; for having dressed themselves during the night, they had nofurther toilet to make.
In every direction were to be seen traces of the storm; prostrate trees,broken branches, the ground strewed with twigs, and the thickets andvines loaded with packages of moss, torn from the taller trees. The searoared terribly, and thick dirty billows came rolling up the river.
Harold was about to mend the fire for Mary, who said she wanted to drinksomething hot, as the best means of warming her chilled limbs, whenRobert, glancing at the tremendous tide in the river, called to herquickly--"Do not waste one drop of this water in the bucket; there isonly a quart left, and no one can tell when the tide will be down enoughfor us to obtain more." He ran to the bluff, and the others observedhim make a gesture of surprise, look hastily around, and finally leapdown the bank. He was absent only two or three minutes, and thenreturned with a pale face and hurrying step.
"Harold!" said he, scarcely able to articulate, "OUR BOAT IS GONE!Burst from her moorings!"
At this terrible announcement, every face whitened, and there was ageneral rush for the landing. It was even so. The boat was nowhere tobe seen. The stake which had confined it had also disappeared. Far asthe eye could reach nothing was visible but water--water, with here andthere a patch of mangrove, higher than the rest, and bowing reluctantlyto the rush of the waves. They looked anxiously over the watery waste,and then into each other's agitated faces. It was clear that theirprospect of speedily returning home was hopeless.
"But perhaps," said Mary, who was the first to recover speech, "it isnot lost. It may have only drifted up the river; or it may have sunk atthe landing."
Robert mournfully looked, where he had already looked more than once,and said, "Well, we can try. But what is the use? something has beenagainst us ever since we left home. Harold, shall we search the river?"
Harold seemed lost in thought. His keen eye had glanced in everydirection, where it was possible the boat could have been driven; thenlessening in its fire, it gave evidence of deep abstraction. Robert'squestion recalled him, and he slowly answered, "Yes; but it is myopinion we shall not find it. You know I have all along had the ideathat we ought not to leave this island. It has seemed to me, ever sincethe fish let go our anchor, that the hand of God was in this accident,and that we are not yet at the end of it. I am troubled, like the restof you; but I have also been questioning whether it is meant for ourharm or for our good. I do not think it is for harm, or we might havebeen left to perish at sea; and if it is for good, I think we ought tosubmit with cheerfulness."
They conversed awhile upon the bluff, in view of the dismal waters, thenslowly turned towards the tent, which was now the only place on earththey could call their home.