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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.
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