Chapter 16

CHAPTER XVI.

OCTOBER 30th.--At the first gleam of daylight we eagerly scanned
the southern and western horizons, but the morning mists limited
our view. Land was nowhere to be seen. The tide was now almost
at its lowest ebb, and the colour of the few peaks of rock that
jutted up around us showed that the reef on which we had stranded
was of basaltic formation. There were now only about six feet of
water around the "Chancellor," though with a full freight she
draws about fifteen. It was remarkable how far she had been
carried on to the shelf of rock, but the number of times that she
had touched the bottom before she finally ran aground left us no
doubt that she had been lifted up and borne along on the top of
an enormous wave. She now lies with her stern considerably
higher than her bows, a position which renders walking upon the
deck anything but an easy matter; moreover as the tide-receded
she heeled over so much to larboard that at one time Curtis
feared she would altogether capsize; that fear, however, since
the tide has reached its lowest mark, has happily proved
groundless.

At six o'clock some violent blows were felt against the ship's
side, and at the same time a voice was distinguished, shouting
loudly, "Curtis! Curtis!" Following the direction of the cries
we saw that the broken mizen-mast was being washed against the
vessel, and in the dusky morning twilight we could make out the
figure of a man clinging to the rigging. Curtis, at the peril of
his life, hastened to bring the man on board, It proved to be
none other than Silas Huntly, who, after being carried overboard
with the mast, had thus, almost by a miracle, escaped a watery
grave. Without a word of thanks to his deliverer, the ex-
captain, passive, like an automaton, passed on and took his seat
in the most secluded corner of the poop. The broken mizen may,
perhaps, be of service to us at some future time, and with that
idea it has been rescued from the waves and lashed securely to
the stern.

By this time it was light enough to see for a distance of three
miles round; but as yet nothing could be discerned to make us
think that we were near a coast. The line of breakers ran for
about a mile from south-west to north-east, and two hundred
fathoms to the north of the ship an irregular mass of rocks
formed a small islet. This islet rose about fifty feet above the
sea, and was consequently above the level of the highest tides;
whilst a sort of causeway, available at low water, would enable
us to reach the island, if necessity required. But there the
reef ended; beyond it the sea again resumed its sombre hue,
betokening deep water. In all probability, then, this was a
solitary shoal, unattached to a shore,