As the little craft rose and fell in that
frightful sea, it seemed doubtful if they would reach the shore.
Dumb with terror, Fernando had watched the whole proceeding. He could
only hold on to a sail and, by the sheer strength of his hands and arms,
save himself from being carried overboard, as sea after sea swept over
them. He strained his eyes until it seemed as though they would burst,
to follow the movements of that boat on which their lives depended. It
seemed but a mere speck on the waves. Suddenly it rose to a surprising
height, and then disappeared altogether. The next moment he saw the men
struggling in the water. The boat was broken into pieces and the
fragments were brought out to them. Every man for himself was now the
cry throughout the ship. How far they were from the shore no one could
tell. They had to take their chances. Although a strong swimmer,
Fernando knew that in such a tremendous sea he would be powerless. There
was, however, but the one thing to do.
Raising his hands before him and pressing them firmly together,
Fernando drew a long breath, then sprang from the sloop's rail into the
water beneath. When he rose to the surface he tried to swim. It was
impossible, as he had foreseen. He was like a child in the grasp of a
monster. The waves tossed him up like a plaything and carried him on
--he could not tell how far or where.
Pages:
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213