fore long," he said, "and we must at
once prepare the sail. I am sorry, Marian, to deprive you of the
covering of your nest; but we have no other means of making the boat go
along."
"I shall be thankful to give it up, if it will help on the boat," she
answered, assisting to undo the lashing which secured the sail. It was
old, and already torn, but with a strong breeze it would afford such
canvas as the boat could carry. We had only an oar for a mast, and
another for a yard. Uncle Paul stepped the first, and stayed it up
carefully with such pieces of rope as could be found in the boat, while
he joined two or three together to form a sheet.
"We are now all ready for the breeze when it comes," he observed, having
finished his work. "I cannot say much for the appearance of our sail,
but we may be thankful if it enables us to reach a port in safety." He
went and sat down again in the sternsheets, resting his hand on the
tiller, so that not a moment might be lost after the breeze should reach
us.
"Here it comes!" he exclaimed at length. "But I wish it had been from
any other quarter. We may, however, hope to beat up against it, if it
proves light, as I expect." He pointed to the north-west, where a dark
blue line was seen extending across the horizon, and rapidly
approaching, every instant becoming broader and broader. Now some
cat's-paws came blowing over the ocean, rippling it up into mimic waves;
now they disappeared, now again came on, till the whole surface was
crisped over by the breeze. Our small triangular sail bulged out,
sending the boat along about a couple of miles an hour.
Uncle Paul was standing up, looking in the direction from which the wind
came, when he exclaimed, "A sail! a sail! She is coming from the
northward, and must be bound either up the Orinoco, or to some port in
the northern part of the continent."
Arthur and I looked eagerly out, but we could just see a small patch of
white rising above the horizon, which the eye of a sailor alone could
have declared to be the topmost sails of a vessel. We stood on in the
direction we were going, hoping to cut her off before she passed to the
southward of us. How eagerly we watched her!--now gazing at her, now at
Uncle Paul's countenance, which betrayed the anxiety he felt. By
degrees her canvas rose above the horizon, and we saw that she was a
schooner, under all sail, running rapidly through the water, and
directly crossing our course.
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