With the reduced sail which she carried, the winds driving her to the coast, Dick Sand would not be able to set off from it.
In front lay a long band of reefs, on which the sea was foaming all white.
They saw the waves unfurl half way up the cliffs.
There must be a monstrous surf there.
Dick Sand, after remaining on the forecastle to observe the coast, returned aft, and, without saying a word, he took the helm.
The wind was freshening all the time.
The schooner was soon only a mile from the shore.
Dick Sand then perceived a sort of little cove, into which he resolved to steer; but, before reaching it, he must cross a line of reefs, among which it would be difficult to follow a channel.
The surf indicated that the water was shallow everywhere.
At that moment Dingo, who was going backwards and forwards on the deck, dashed forward, and, looking at the land, gave some lamentable barks.
One would say that the dog recognized the coast, and that its instinct recalled some sad remembrance.
Negoro must have heard it, for an irresistible sentiment led him out of his cabin; and although he had reason to fear the dog, he came almost immediately to lean on the netting.
Very fortunately for him Dingo, whose sad barks were all the time being addressed to that land, did not perceive him.
Negoro looked at that furious surf, and that did not appear to frighten him.
Mrs. Weldon, who was looking at him, thought she saw his face redden a little, and that for an instant his features were contracted.
Then, did Negoro know this point of the continent where the winds were driving the
"Pilgrim?"
At that moment Dick Sand left the wheel, which he gave back to old Tom. For a last time he came to look at the cove, which gradually opened.
Then: "Mrs. Weldon," said he, in a firm voice, "I have no longer any hope of finding a harbor!
Before half an hour, in spite of all my efforts, the 'Pilgrim' will be on the reefs! We must run aground!
I shall not bring the ship into port!
I am forced to lose her to save you!
But, between your safety and hers, I do not hesitate!"
"You have done all that depended on you, Dick?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"All," replied the young novice.
And at once he made his preparations for stranding the ship.
First of all, Mrs. Weldon, Jack, Cousin Benedict and Nan, must put on life-preservers.
Dick Sand, Tom and the blacks, good swimmers, also took measures to gain the coast, in case they should be precipitated into the sea.
Hercules would take charge of Mrs. Weldon.
The novice took little Jack under his care.
Cousin Benedict, very tranquil, however, reappeared on the deck with his entomologist box strapped to his shoulder.
The novice commended him to Bat and Austin.
As to Negoro, his singular calmness said plainly enough that he had no need of anybody's aid.
Dick Sand, by a supreme precaution, had also brought on the forecastle ten barrels of the cargo containing whale's oil.
That oil, properly poured the moment the "Pilgrim" would be in the surf, ought to calm the sea for an instant, in lubricating, so to say, the molecules of water, and that operation would perhaps facilitate the ship's passage between the reefs.
Dick Sand did not wish to neglect anything which might secure the common safety.
All these precautions taken, the novice returned to take his place at the wheel.
The "Pilgrim" was only two cables' lengths from the coast, that is, almost touching the reefs, her starboard side already bathed in the white foam of the surf.
Each moment the novice thought that the vessel's keel was going to strike some rocky bottom.
Suddenly, Dick Sand knew, by a change in the color of the water, that a channel lengthened out among the reefs.
He must enter it bravely without hesitating, so as to make the coast as near as possible to the shore.
The novice did not hesitate.
A movement of the helm thrust the ship into the narrow and sinuous channel.
In this place the sea was still more furious, and the waves dashed on the deck.
The blacks were posted forward, near the barrels, waiting for the novice's orders.
"Pour the oil—pour!" exclaimed Dick Sand.
Under this oil, which was poured on it in quantities, the sea grew calm, as by enchantment, only to become more terrible again a moment after. The "Pilgrim" glided rapidly over those lubricated waters and headed straight for the shore.
Suddenly a shock took place.
The ship, lifted by a formidable wave, had just stranded, and her masting had fallen without wounding anybody.
The "Pilgrim's" hull, damaged by the collision, was invaded by the water with extreme violence.