Read Books Online, for Free |
South Sea Tales | Jack London | |
The Seed Of McCoy |
Page 9 of 21 |
"My God!" Captain Davenport groaned. "That makes the life of a schooner only five years!" He shook his head sadly, murmuring, "Bad waters! Bad waters!" Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. "Here is Moerenhout Island," Captain Davenport pointed it out on the chart, which he had spread on the house. "It can't be more than a hundred miles to leeward." "A hundred and ten." 'mcCoy shook his head doubtfully. "It might be done, but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place." "We'll take the chance," was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set about working out the course. Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in the night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in the morning. But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through the water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout Island to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the ten miles; she sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three mastheads saw naught but the naked, sun-washed sea. "But the land is there, I tell you," Captain Davenport shouted to them from the poop. McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. |
Who's On Your Reading List? Read Classic Books Online for Free at Page by Page Books.TM |
South Sea Tales Jack London |
Home | More Books | About Us | Copyright 2004