Chapter 9 - Page 2

were usually white with the
foam of breakers, could not now be distinguished from any of the raging
cauldron around them, and it was evident that Bob must run at hazard.
Twenty times did Mark expect to see the pinnace disappear in the foaming
waves, as it drove furiously onward; but, in each instance, the light
and buoyant boat came up from cavities where our young man fancied it
must be dashed to pieces, scudding away to leeward like the sea-fowl
that makes its flight with wings nearly dipping. Mark now began to hope
that his friend might pass over the many reefs that lay in his track,
and gain the open water to leeward. The rise in the ocean favoured such
an expectation, and no doubt was the reason why the Neshamony was not
dashed to pieces within the first five minutes after she was washed off
her ways. Once to leeward of the vast shoals that surrounded the crater,
there was the probability of Bob's finding smoother water, and the
chance of his riding out the tempest by bringing his little sloop up
head to sea. The water through which the boat was then running was more
like a cauldron, bubbling and boiling under some intense heat produced
by subterranean fires, than the regular, rolling billows of the ocean
when piled up by gales. Under the lee of the shoals this cauldron would
disappear, while the mountain waves of the open ocean could not rise
until a certain distance from the shallow water enabled them to 'get
up,' as sailors express it. Mark saw the Neshamony for about a quarter
of an hour after she was adrift, though long before the expiration of
even that brief period she was invisible for many moments at a time, in
consequence of the distance, her want of sail, her lowness in the water,
and the troubled state of the element through which she was driving. The
last look he got of her was at an instant when the spray was filling the
atmosphere like a passing cloud; when it had driven away, the boat could
no longer be seen!

Here was a sudden and a most unexpected change for the worse in the
situation of Mark Woolston! Not only had he lost the means of getting
off the island, but he had lost his friend and companion. It was true,
Bob was a rough and an uncultivated associate; but he was honest as
human frailty could leave a human being, true as steel in his
attachments, strong in body, and of great professional skill. So great,
indeed, was the last, that our young man was not without the hope he
would be able to keep under the lee of the shoals until the gale broke,
and then beat up through them, and still come to his rescue. There was
one point, in particular, on which Mark felt unusual concern. Bob knew
nothing whatever of navigation. It was impossible to teach him anything
on that subject. He