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Chapter 24
The Cruise of the Coracle
IT was broad day when I awoke and found
myself tossing at the south-west end of
Treasure Island.
The sun was up but was still hid from me
behind the great bulk of the Spy-glass,
which on this side descended almost to the
sea in formidable cliffs.
Haulbowline Head and Mizzen-mast Hill were
at my elbow, the hill bare and dark, the
head bound with cliffs forty or fifty feet
high and fringed with great masses of
fallen rock.
I was scarce a quarter of a mile to
seaward, and it was my first thought to
paddle in and land.
That notion was soon given over.
Among the fallen rocks the breakers spouted
and bellowed; loud reverberations, heavy
sprays flying and falling, succeeded one
another from second to second; and I saw
myself, if I ventured nearer, dashed to
death upon the rough shore or spending my
strength in vain to scale the beetling
crags.
Nor was that all, for crawling together on
flat tables of rock or letting themselves
drop into the sea with loud reports I
beheld huge slimy monsters--soft snails, as
it were, of incredible bigness--two or
three score of them together, making the
rocks to echo with their barkings.
I have understood since that they were sea
lions, and entirely harmless.
But the look of them, added to the
difficulty of the shore and the high
running of the surf, was more than enough
to disgust me of that landing-place.
I felt willing rather to starve at sea than
to confront such perils.
In the meantime I had a better chance, as I
supposed, before me.
North of Haulbowline Head, the land runs in
a long way, leaving at low tide a long
stretch of yellow sand.
To the north of that, again, there comes
another cape--Cape of the Woods, as it was
marked upon the chart--buried in tall green
pines, which descended to the margin of the
sea.
I remembered what Silver had said about the
current that sets northward along the whole
west coast of Treasure Island, and seeing
from my position that I was already under
its influence, I preferred to leave
Haulbowline Head behind me and reserve my
strength for an attempt to land upon the
kindlier-looking Cape of the Woods.
There was a great, smooth swell upon the
sea.
The wind blowing steady and gentle from the
south, there was no contrariety between
that and the current, and the billows rose
and fell unbroken.
Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have
perished; but as it was, it is surprising
how easily and securely my little and light
boat could ride.
Often, as I still lay at the bottom and
kept no more than an eye above the gunwale,
I would see a big blue summit heaving close
above me; yet the coracle would but bounce
a little, dance as if on springs, and
subside on the other side into the trough
as lightly as a bird.
I began after a little to grow very bold
and sat up to try my skill at paddling.
But even a small change in the disposition
of the weight will produce violent changes
in the behaviour of a coracle.
And I had hardly moved before the boat,
giving up at once her gentle dancing
movement, ran straight down a slope of
water so steep that it made me giddy, and
struck her nose, with a spout of spray,
deep into the side of the next wave.
I was drenched and terrified, and fell
instantly back into my old position,
whereupon the coracle seemed to find her
head again and led me as softly as before
among the billows.
It was plain she was not to be interfered
with, and at that rate, since I could in no
way influence her course, what hope had I
left of reaching land?
I began to be horribly frightened, but I
kept my head, for all that.
First, moving with all care, I gradually
baled out the coracle with my sea-cap;
then, getting my eye once more above the
gunwale, I set myself to study how it was
she managed to slip so quietly through the
rollers.
I found each wave, instead of the big,
smooth glossy mountain it looks from shore
or from a vessel's deck, was for all the
world like any range of hills on dry land,
full of peaks and smooth places and
valleys.
The coracle, left to herself, turning from
side to side, threaded, so to speak, her
way through these lower parts and avoided
the steep slopes and higher, toppling
summits of the wave.
"Well, now," thought I to myself, "it is
plain I must lie where I am and not disturb
the balance; but it is plain also that I
can put the paddle over the side and from
time to time, in smooth places, give her a
shove or two towards land."
No sooner thought upon than done.
There I lay on my elbows in the most trying
attitude, and every now and again gave a
weak stroke or two to turn her head to
shore.
It was very tiring and slow work, yet I did
visibly gain ground; and as we drew near
the Cape of the Woods, though I saw I must
infallibly miss that point, I had still
made some hundred yards of easting.
I was, indeed, close in.
I could see the cool green tree-tops
swaying together in the breeze, and I felt
sure I should make the next promontory
without fail.
It was high time, for I now began to be
tortured with thirst.
The glow of the sun from above, its
thousandfold reflection from the waves, the
sea-water that fell and dried upon me,
caking my very lips with salt, combined to
make my throat burn and my brain ache.
The sight of the trees so near at hand had
almost made me sick with longing, but the
current had soon carried me past the point,
and as the next reach of sea opened out, I
beheld a sight that changed the nature of
my thoughts.
Right in front of me, not half a mile away,
I beheld the HISPANIOLA under sail.
I made sure, of course, that I should be
taken; but I was so distressed for want of
water that I scarce knew whether to be glad
or sorry at the thought, and long before I
had come to a conclusion, surprise had
taken entire possession of my mind and I
could do nothing but stare and wonder.
The HISPANIOLA was under her main-sail and
two jibs, and the beautiful white canvas
shone in the sun like snow or silver.
When I first sighted her, all her sails
were drawing; she was lying a course about
north-west, and I presumed the men on board
were going round the island on their way
back to the anchorage.
Presently she began to fetch more and more
to the westward, so that I thought they had
sighted me and were going about in chase.
At last, however, she fell right into the
wind's eye, was taken dead aback, and stood
there awhile helpless, with her sails
shivering.
"Clumsy fellows," said I; "they must still
be drunk as owls."
And I thought how Captain Smollett would
have set them skipping.
Meanwhile the schooner gradually fell off
and filled again upon another tack, sailed
swiftly for a minute or so, and brought up
once more dead in the wind's eye.
Again and again was this repeated.
To and fro, up and down, north, south,
east, and west, the HISPANIOLA sailed by
swoops and dashes, and at each repetition
ended as she had begun, with idly flapping
canvas.
It became plain to me that nobody was
steering.
And if so, where were the men?
Either they were dead drunk or had deserted
her, I thought, and perhaps if I could get
on board I might return the vessel to her
captain.
The current was bearing coracle and
schooner southward at an equal rate.
As for the latter's sailing, it was so wild
and intermittent, and she hung each time so
long in irons, that she certainly gained
nothing, if she did not even lose.
If only I dared to sit up and paddle, I
made sure that I could overhaul her.
The scheme had an air of adventure that
inspired me, and the thought of the water
breaker beside the fore companion doubled
my growing courage.
Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by
another cloud of spray, but this time stuck
to my purpose and set myself, with all my
strength and caution, to paddle after the
unsteered HISPANIOLA.
Once I shipped a sea so heavy that I had to
stop and bail, with my heart fluttering
like a bird, but gradually I got into the
way of the thing and guided my coracle
among the waves, with only now and then a
blow upon her bows and a dash of foam in my
face.
I was now gaining rapidly on the schooner;
I could see the brass glisten on the tiller
as it banged about, and still no soul
appeared upon her decks.
I could not choose but suppose she was
deserted.
If not, the men were lying drunk below,
where I might batten them down, perhaps,
and do what I chose with the ship.
For some time she had been doing the worse
thing possible for me--standing still.
She headed nearly due south, yawing, of
course, all the time.
Each time she fell off, her sails partly
filled, and these brought her in a moment
right to the wind again.
I have said this was the worst thing
possible for me, for helpless as she looked
in this situation, with the canvas cracking
like cannon and the blocks trundling and
banging on the deck, she still continued to
run away from me, not only with the speed
of the current, but by the whole amount of
her leeway, which was naturally great.
But now, at last, I had my chance.
The breeze fell for some seconds, very low,
and the current gradually turning her, the
HISPANIOLA revolved slowly round her centre
and at last presented me her stern, with
the cabin window still gaping open and the
lamp over the table still burning on into
the day.
The main-sail hung drooped like a banner.
She was stock-still but for the current.
For the last little while I had even lost,
but now redoubling my efforts, I began once
more to overhaul the chase.
I was not a hundred yards from her when the
wind came again in a clap; she filled on
the port tack and was off again, stooping
and skimming like a swallow.
My first impulse was one of despair, but my
second was towards joy.
Round she came, till she was broadside on
to me--round still till she had covered a
half and then two thirds and then three
quarters of the distance that separated us.
I could see the waves boiling white under
her forefoot.
Immensely tall she looked to me from my low
station in the coracle.
And then, of a sudden, I began to
comprehend.
I had scarce time to think--scarce time to
act and save myself.
I was on the summit of one swell when the
schooner came stooping over the next.
The bowsprit was over my head.
I sprang to my feet and leaped, stamping
the coracle under water.
With one hand I caught the jib-boom, while
my foot was lodged between the stay and the
brace; and as I still clung there panting,
a dull blow told me that the schooner had
charged down upon and struck the coracle
and that I was left without retreat on the
HISPANIOLA.