CHAPTER FIVE.
RUNNING THE BREAKERS.
The Almighty Hand that had thus far helped the castaways on theircourse, with a favouring wind bringing them in sight of Borneo's isle,was not going to crush the sweet hopes thus raised by wrecking theirboat upon its shores.
And yet for a time it seemed as if this were to be their fate. As theydrew near enough to the land to distinguish its configuration, they sawa white line like a snow-wreath running between it and them, for milesto right and left, far as the eye could reach. They knew it to be abarrier of coral breakers, such as usually encircle the islands of theIndian seas--strong ramparts raised by tiny insect creatures, to guardthese fair gardens of God against the assaults of an ocean that,although customarily calm, is at times aroused by the _typhoon_, untilit rages around them with dark scowling waves, like battalions ofdemons.
To keep the boat from driving on the dangerous reef, was just as much asthe oarsmen could accomplish. Weakened as they were, by long sufferingand starvation, they had a tough struggle to hold the pinnace as it werein _statu quo_--all the tougher from the disproportion between such aheavy craft and the light oar-stroke of which her reduced and exhaustedcrew were capable.
But as if taking pity upon them, and in sympathy with their efforts, thesun, as he rose above the horizon, seemed to smile upon them and hushthe storm into silence. The wind, that throughout the night had beenwhistling in their ears, all at once fell to a calm, as if commanded bythe majestic orb of day; and along with the wind went down the waves,the latter subsiding more gradually. It was easier now to hold thepinnace in place, as also to row her in a direction parallel to the lineof the breakers; and, after coasting for about a mile, an opening was atlength observed where the dangerous reef might perhaps be penetratedwith safety.
Setting the boat's head toward it, the oars were once more worked withthe utmost strength that remained in the arms of the rowers, while hercourse was directed with all the skill of which an American skipper iscapable.
Between them spread a narrow space of calm sea--yet only comparativelycalm, for even there an ordinary boat, well managed, would be in dangerof getting swamped. What then was the chance for a huge pinnace, poorlymanned, and therefore sure of being badly trimmed? It looked as ifafter all the advantages that had arisen--that had sprung up as thoughprovidentially in their favour--Captain Redwood and the small survivingremnant of his crew were to perish among the breakers of Borneo, and bedevoured by the ravenous sharks which amidst the storm-vexed reefs findtheir congenial home.
But it was not so to be. The prayer offered up, as those snow-white buttreacherous perils first hove in sight, had been heard on high; and Hewho had guided the castaways to the danger, stayed by their side, andgave strength to their arms to carry them through it.
With a skill drawn from the combination of clear intelligence and longexperience, Captain Redwood set the head of his pinnace straight for thenarrow and dangerous passage; and with a strength inspired by the peril,Murtagh and the Malay pulled upon their oars, each handling hisrespective pair as if his life depended on the effort.
In less than ten minutes her keel touched bottom on the sands of Borneo,and her crew, staggering ashore, dropped upon their knees, and in wordsearnest as those uttered by Columbus at Cat Island, or the Pilgrims onPlymouth Rock, breathed a devout thanksgiving for their deliverance.