The Boy Slaves. Reid Mayne
a place suitable for an encampment – perhaps some timber might then come into view – from which they would be able to obtain a few sticks.
On attempting to scale the "dune," they found that their wading was not yet at an end. Though no longer in the water, they sank to their knees at every step, in soft yielding sand.
The ascent of the hillock, though scarce a hundred feet high, proved exceedingly toilsome – much more so than wading knee-deep in water – but they floundered on, and at length reached the summit.
To the right, to the left, in front of them, far as the eye could reach, nothing but hills and ridges of sand – that appeared under the moonlight of a whiteness approaching to that of snow. In fact, it would not have been difficult to fancy that the country was covered with a heavy coat of snow – as often seen in Sweden, or the Northern parts of Scotland – drifted into "wreaths," and spurred hillocks of every imaginable form.
It was pretty, but soon became painful from its monotony; and the eyes of that shipwrecked quartette were even glad to turn once more to the scarce less monotonous blue of the ocean.
Inland, they could perceive other sand-hills – higher than that to which they had climbed – and long crested "combings," with deep valleys between; but not one object to gladden their sight – nothing that offered promise of either food, drink, or shelter.
Had it not been for their fatigue they might have gone farther. Since the moon had consented to show herself, there was light enough to travel by; and they might have proceeded on – either through the sand-dunes or along the shore. But of the four there was not one – not even the tough old tar himself – who was not regularly done up, both with weariness of body and spirit. The short slumber upon the spit – from which they had been so unexpectedly startled – had refreshed them but little; and, as they stood upon the summit of the sand-hill, all four felt as if they could drop down, and go to sleep on the instant.
It was a couch sufficiently inviting, and they would at once have availed themselves of it, but for a circumstance that suggested to them the idea of seeking a still better place for repose.
The land wind was blowing in from the ocean; and, according to the forecast of Old Bill – a great practical meteorologist, – it promised ere long to become a gale. It was already sufficiently violent – and chill to boot – to make the situation on the summit of the dune anything but comfortable. There was no reason why they should make their couch upon that exposed prominence. Just on the landward side of the hillock itself – below, at its base – they perceived a more sheltered situation; and why not select that spot for their resting place?
There was no reason why they should not. Old Bill proposed it; there was no opposition offered by his young companions, – and, without further parley, the four went floundering down the sloping side of the sand-hill, into the sheltered convexity at its base.
On arriving at the bottom, they found themselves in the narrowest of ravines. The hillock from which they had descended was but the highest summit of a long ridge, trending in the same direction as the coast. Another ridge, of about equal height, ran parallel to this on the landward side. The bases of the two approached so near, that their sloping sides formed an angle with each other. On account of the abrupt acclivity of both, this angle was almost acute, and the ravine between the two resembled a cavity out of which some great wedge had been cut, – like a section taken from the side of a gigantic melon.
It was in this re-entrant angle that the castaways found themselves, after descending the side of the dune, and where they had proposed spending the remainder of the night.
They were somewhat disappointed on reaching their sleeping-quarters, and finding them so limited as to space. In the bottom of the ravine there was not breadth enough for a bed, – even for the shortest of the party, – supposing him desirous of sleeping in a horizontal position.
There were not six feet of surface – nor even three – that could strictly be called horizontal. Even longitudinally, the bottom of the "gully" had a sloping inclination: for the ravine itself tended upwards, until it became extinguished in the convergence of its inclosing ridges.
On discovering the unexpected "strait" into which they had launched themselves, our adventurers were for a time nonplussed. They felt inclined to proceed farther in search of a "better bed," but their weariness outweighed this inclination; and, after some hesitation, they resolved to remain in the "ditch," into which they had so unwillingly descended. They proceeded therefore to encouch themselves.
Their first attempt was made by placing themselves in a half-standing position – their backs supported upon the sloping side of one of the ridges, with their feet resting against the other. So long as they kept awake, this position was both easy and pleasant; but the moment any one of them closed his eyes in sleep, – and this was an event almost instantaneous, – his muscles, relaxed by slumber, would no longer have the strength to sustain him; and the consequence would be an uncomfortable collapse to the bottom of the "gully," where anything like a position of repose was out of the question.
This vexatious interruption of their slumbers happening repeatedly, at length roused all four to take fresh counsel as to choosing a fresh couch.
Terence had been especially annoyed by these repeated disturbances; and proclaimed his determination not to submit to them any longer. He would go in search of more "comfortable quarters."
He had arisen to his feet, and appeared in the act of starting off.
"We had better not separate," suggested Harry Blount. "If we do, we may find it difficult to come together again."
"There's something in what you say, Hal," said the young Scotchman. "It will not do for us to lose sight of one another. What does Bill say to it?"
"I say, stay here," put in the voice of the sailor. "It won't do to stray the wan from the t'other. No, it won't. Let us hold fast, thin, where we're already belayed."
"But who the deuce can sleep here?" remonstrated the son of Erin. "A hard-worked horse can sleep standing; and so can an elephant, they say; but, for me, I'd prefer six feet of the horizontal – even if it were a hard stone – to this slope of the softest sand."
"Stay, Terry!" cried Colin. "I've captured an idea."
"Ah! you Scotch are always capturing something – whether it be an idea, a flea, or the itch. Let's hear what it is."
"After that insult to ma kintree," good-humoredly rejoined Colin, "I dinna know whuther I wull."
"Come, Colin," interrupted Harry Blount, "if you've any good counsel to give us, pray don't withhold it. We can't get sleep, standing at an angle of forty-five degrees. Why should we not try to change our position by seeking another place?"
"Well, Harry, as you have made the request, I'll tell you what's just come into my mind. I only feel astonished it didn't occur to any of us sooner."
"Mother av Moses!" cried Terence, jocularly adopting his native brogue; "and why don't you out with it at wanse? – you Scatch are the thrue rid-tape of society."
"Never mind, Colly!" interposed Blount; "there's no time to listen to Terry's badinage. We're all too sleepy for jesting; tell us what you've got in your mind."
"All of ye do as you see me, and, I'll be your bail, ye'll sleep sound till the dawn o' the day. Good night!"
As Colin pronounced the salutation he sank down to the bottom of the ravine, where, stretched longitudinally, he might repose without the slightest danger of being awakened by slipping from his couch.
On seeing him thus disposed, the others only wondered they had not thought of the thing before.
They were too sleepy to speculate long upon their own thoughtlessness; and one after the other, imitating the example set them by the young Scotchman, laid their bodies lengthwise along the bottom of the ravine, and entered upon the enjoyment of a slumber from which all the kettle-drums in creation would scarce have awaked them.
CHAPTER XI.
'WARE THE SAND!
As the gully in which they had gone to rest was too narrow to permit of them