Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Coming Wave; Or, The Hidden Treasure of High Rock by Oliver Optic (books to improve english txt) 📖
- Author: Oliver Optic
Book online «The Coming Wave; Or, The Hidden Treasure of High Rock by Oliver Optic (books to improve english txt) 📖». Author Oliver Optic
The rudder was disabled, the fore-topmast staysail was rent into ribbons, and the brig fell off into the trough of the sea, where she rolled helplessly at the mercy of the tempest.
[Pg 30]
CHAPTER II. THE LAST OF THE WALDO.The storm which swept over the waters of the lower bay, lashing them into a wild fury, and piling up the angry waves upon them, was not merely a squall; it was a hurricane, which raged for half an hour with uninterrupted violence. From the time the tempest struck the Waldo, she had been drifting towards the dangerous rocks; and when the wheel and rudder-head were shattered, the vessel became unmanageable. Six men, including the captain and the passenger, lay paralyzed on the quarter-deck. There were only three left—the mate, the steward, and one seaman. When the steering apparatus was disabled, the brig fell off, and rushed madly before the hurricane, towards the dangerous reefs. The rain had been pouring down in torrents for a few moments, but little cared the[Pg 31] seamen for that which could not harm the vessel.
Harvey Barth was not, and did not pretend to be, a sailor. When the storm burst upon the vessel, he retired to the galley. When the moments of peril came, he was alarmed at first; but then he felt that he had only a few months, or a year or two at most, of life left to him, and he tried to be as brave as the sailors who were doing there utmost to save the brig from destruction. Perhaps it would have been a pleasure to him in the last days of his life to do some noble deed; but there was only the drudgery of the common sailor to be done. He saw the man from the topsail yard strike heavily upon the deck. He dragged him into the galley, but he seemed to be dead. The steward had tender feelings, and he tried to do something to restore the unconscious sailor. While he was thus engaged, the mate summoned him to assist in setting the fore-topmast staysail. He obeyed the call, though it was the first time he was ever called upon to do any duty, except to make fast, or cast off the fore-sheet. He was not a strong man, but he did the best he could at the halyard, and the mate was satisfied with him.[Pg 32]
The bolt of lightning which came down the mainmast seemed to shake and shatter the brig, and the hands forward were terribly startled by the shock. Then the sail they were setting was torn in pieces. The mate who had worked vigorously and courageously, saw that all they had done was useless. The vessel fell off, and rushed to the ruin that was in store for her.
"It is all up with us," said Mr. Carboy, the mate, as he dropped the halyard. "Nothing can save the brig now."
"What shall we do?" asked Harvey Barth, startled by the words of the officer. "Must we drown here?"
"We shall do what we can to save ourselves," replied Mr. Carboy, as he made his way with no little difficulty to the quarter-deck, in order to ascertain the condition of things, for he was not aware of the havoc which the lightning had made among his shipmates.
The Wreck of the Waldo. Page 28.
[Pg 33]
A flash of the electric fluid streamed along the mass of black clouds at this instant, and disclosed to him the situation of his companions. He was shocked by the sight, and even his strong frame was shaken by the fearful scene which for an instant only was visible to him. He recognized the captain, but he seemed to be dead. Next to him was the passenger, who was getting upon his feet again, apparently not much injured by the bolt. Not another of the six men who lay on the quarter-deck moved, or exhibited any signs of life. The mate,—in whose mind the situation of each of his unfortunate shipmates was fixed in such a way that he could not have forgotten the scene if he had lived to be a hundred years old,—went to each man, but could discover no indications of vitality in them. He was thinking of saving his own life, but it was awful, and terribly repulsive to his sense of humanity to consider the idea of abandoning the vessel while these men, who might be only stunned by the shock lay on her deck.
"What's to be done, Mr. Carboy?" asked the passenger, when another flash revealed to him the presence of the mate; "we shall be on the rock in another moment."
"We have two boats, but we can't get them into the water in this weather. It blows harder and harder," replied the mate.[Pg 34]
The passenger said no more, but, guided by the vivid lightning, he rushed down the companion-way into the cabin of the brig; but in another moment he returned with a small, but heavy package in his hand. When the mate went aft, Harvey Barth visited the galley, and took from the box his diary, still carefully envelloped in the oil-cloth. This book was the repository of the few valuables he possessed, but whether it was for the diary, or the treasures it contained, that he was so anxious to save it at that trying moment, we may not know. He stuffed the book inside of his guernsey shirt, which he buttoned tightly over it. Then he crawled to the quarter-deck by holding on at the bulwarks; and here all the survivors of the tempest and the lightning met, as the passenger came up from the cabin.
The brig rose and fell on the savage waves, and still dashed madly on towards the rocks. She lay broadside to the hurricane, so that her progress was slower than it would otherwise have been. His companions looked to the mate, whose skill and courage had inspired their confidence, to point out the means of safety, if[Pg 35] there were any means of safety in such a tempest. The brig had evidently shifted her cargo in the hold, for she had heeled over until the water was a foot deep in the lee scuppers.
"It will be all over with the Waldo in two minutes more," said Wallbridge, in a loud voice, which was necessary in order to make himself heard above the roar of the tempest.
"I don't know this part of the bay very well," replied Mr. Carboy in the same loud tone.
"We shall strike on a ledge in a minute or two."
"Then we will be ready for it," added the mate, taking from within the fife-rail at the foot of the mainmast a couple of sharp axes, which were kept for just such emergencies as the present.
"We haven't time to cut away the masts," protested Wallbridge, as a flash of lightning revealed the axes in the hands of the mate.
"I am not going to cut away the masts. The jolly-boat wouldn't live a moment in this sea, and we must get the whale-boat overboard," answered the mate, as he went down into the[Pg 36] waist, where the boat was locked up. "Here, Burns, cut away the lee bulward," he shouted to the only remaining seaman of the brig.
"Give me the other axe," said Wallbridge. "I know how to use it."
"Good! Make quick work of it," added Mr. Carboy. "Here, steward, bear a hand at this boat."
The passenger carefully deposited in the fore-sheets of the whale-boat the heavy bundle he had brought up from the cabin, and seizing the axe, he applied himself vigorously to the labor of cutting away the bulwark.
The mate and steward cleared away the boat, and swung it around so that the stern was headed towards the opening. But while the passenger and the seaman were delivering their blows with the axes as well as the uneasy motion of the vessel would permit, the brig rose on the sea, and came down with a most tremendous crash. Over went the mainmast, shattered at the heel by the bolt of lightning. The planks and timbers of the Waldo snapped and were ground into splinters as the hull pounded upon the sharp rocks. The sea began to break over the deck, as the vessel settled.[Pg 37]
"Give me that axe, Burns," yelled the mate, as he sprang to the seaman, and snatched the implement from his hands. "Clear away the wreck," he added to the passenger.
Aided by the frequent flashes of lightning, the mate and Wallbridge cut away the braces and other rigging which encumbered the waist, and impeded the launching of the whale-boat. In a few moments it was all clear. Harvey Barth, aware of his own weakness, had already seated himself in the boat, which was ready, and almost floated on the deck when the heavy seas rolled over it.
"Into the boat!" called the mate, as he stood at the bow of it. "Take an oar, Mr. Wallbridge."
The passenger obeyed the order. Enough of the bulwarks had been cut away to allow the passage of the boat. Mr. Carboy waited till a heavy billow swept over the deck of the brig, and then pushed her off into the boiling waves, leaping over the bow, as it cleared the vessel.
"Give way!" he shouted, as the whale-boat was swept away from the brig. "Keep her right before it."[Pg 38]
But the mate was not satisfied with the efforts of Burns, the seaman, and took the oar from his hand.
Half buried in the whelming tide, the whale-boat dashed through the waves towards the high cliffs of the rocky island. She had scarcely left the brig before it broke in two in the middle; the foremast toppled over into the water, and the after portion disappeared in the waves, as they were lighted up by the repeated flashes from the dark clouds.
"We shall be dashed in pieces on the rocks!" exclaimed the mate, as he turned his gaze from the remaining portion of the Waldo to the lofty cliffs on the island.
"No; there is a beach under the rocks," replied Wallbridge. "I know the place very well. Let her go ahead, and we must take our chances in the surf."
"If there is a beach we shall do very well," replied the mate, pulling vigorously at his oar to keep the boat before the wind; for he knew that, if she fell off into the trough of the sea, she would be instantly swamped.
But the distance was short between the ledge[Pg 39] and the shore, and in a moment more the boat struck heavily upon the gravelly beach, which was, at this time of tide, not more than ten feet wide, and the waves already rolled over it against the perpendicular rocks. With one consent, the four men leaped from the boat into the surf. The mate carried the painter on shore with him, and endeavored to swing around the boat, which had come stern foremost to the beach. Burns imprudently moved out into the surf to assist him, when the undertow from a heavy wave swept him far out into the angry sea. In the mean time, Wallbridge and Harvey Barth retreated towards the cliff. The tide was still rising, and the beach afforded but partial shelter from the fury of the billows.
"This is no place for us," said Wallbridge, gloomily.
"I don't think it is," drawled Harvey. "We can't stand it here a great while."
"But I will make sure of one thing," added the late passenger of the Waldo. "I have twelve hundred dollars in gold in my hand, and it may be the means of drowning me."
"Gold isn't of much use to us just now,"[Pg 40] sighed Harvey, indifferently, as he glanced around him to ascertain if there were any means of escape to the high rocks above; but no man could climb the steep cliff beside him.
"I worked two years in Cuba for this money, and I don't like to lose it," said Wallbridge. "But I don't mean to be drowned on account of it."
As he spoke he kneeled down on the beach, and scooped out of the sand and gravel a hole about a foot deep, into which he dropped the bag of gold.
"Under that overhanging rock," said he, fixing in his mind the locality of his "hidden treasure;" "I shall be able to find it again when I want it."
"I hope you will," answered Harvey Barth, looking up at the mark indicated by his companion.
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