The Coral Island by R. M. (Robert Michael) Ballantyne
page 170 of 349 (48%)
page 170 of 349 (48%)
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the daylight all evidence of our security vanished away. We could
no longer see the firm rock on which we lay, while we were stunned with the violence of the tempest that raged around us. The night grew pitchy dark, as it advanced, so that we could not see our hands when we held them up before our eyes, and were obliged to feel each other occasionally to make sure that we were safe, for the storm at last became so terrible that it was difficult to make our voices audible. A slight variation of the wind, as we supposed, caused a few drops of spray ever and anon to blow into our faces; and the eddy of the sea, in its mad boiling, washed up into our little creek until it reached our feet and threatened to tear away our boat. In order to prevent this latter calamity, we hauled the boat farther up and held the cable in our hands. Occasional flashes of lightning shone with a ghastly glare through the watery curtains around us, and lent additional horror to the scene. Yet we longed for those dismal flashes, for they were less appalling than the thick blackness that succeeded them. Crashing peals of thunder seemed to tear the skies in twain, and fell upon our ears through the wild yelling of the hurricane as if it had been but a gentle summer breeze; while the billows burst upon the weather side of the island until we fancied that the solid rock was giving way, and, in our agony, we clung to the bare ground, expecting every moment to be whirled away and whelmed in the black howling sea! Oh! it was a night of terrible anxiety, and no one can conceive the feelings of intense gratitude and relief with which we at last saw the dawn of day break through the vapory mists around us. For three days and three nights we remained on this rock, while the storm continued to rage with unabated fury. On the morning of the |
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