Another minute, and with a sort of howl to Allah from the Arab, a pious ejaculation from myself, and something that was not pious from Job, we were in them.And then the whole scene, down to our final escape, repeated itself, only not quite so violently.
Mahomed's skilful steering and the air-tight compartments saved our lives.In five minutes we were through, and driftingfor we were too exhausted to do anything to help ourselves except keep her head straightwith the most startling rapidity round the headland which I have described.
Round we went with the tide, until we got well under the lee of the point, and then suddenly the speed slackened, we ceased to make way, and finally appeared to be in dead water.The storm had entirely passed, leaving a clean-washed sky behind it; the headland intercepted the heavy sea that had been occasioned by the squall, and the tide, which had been running so fiercely up the river (for we were now in the mouth of a river), was sluggish before it turned, so we floated quietly, and before the moon went down managed to bail out the boat thoroughly and get her a little ship-shape.Leo was sleeping profoundly, and on the whole Ithought it wise not to wake him.It was true he was sleeping in wet clothes, but the night was now so warm that I thought (and so did Job) that they were not likely to injure a man of his unusually vigorous constitution.Besides, we had no dry ones at hand.
Presently the moon went down, and left us floating on the waters, now only heaving like some troubled woman's breast, giving us leisure to reflect upon all that we had gone through and all that we had escaped.
Job stationed himself at the bow, Mahomed kept his post at the tiller, and I sat on a seat in the middle of the boat close to where Leo was lying.
The moon went slowly down in chastened loveliness; she departed like some sweet bride into her chamber, and long, veil-like shadows crept up the sky through which the stars peeped shyly out.Soon, however, they too began to pale before a splendor in the east, and then the quivering footsteps of the dawn came rushing across the new-born blue, and shook the planets from their places.Quieter and yet more quiet grew the sea, quiet as the soft mist that brooded on her bosom, and covered up her troubling, as the illusive wreaths of sleep brood upon a pain-racked mind, causing it to forget its sorrow.From the east to the west sped the angels of the dawn, from sea to sea, from mountain-top to mountain-top, scattering light with both their hands.On they sped out of the darkness, perfect, glorious, like spirits of the just breaking from the tomb; on, over the quiet sea, over the low coast-line, and the swamps beyond, and the mountains beyond them;over those who slept in peace, and those who woke in sorrow; over the evil and the good; over the living and dead; over the wide world and all that breathes or has breathed thereon.
It was a wonderfully beautiful sight, and yet sad, perhaps from the very excess of its beauty.The arising sun; the setting sun! There we have the symbol and the type of humanity, and all things with which humanity has to do.The symbol and the type, yes, and the earthly beginning, and the end also.
And on that morning this came home to me with a peculiar force.The sun that rose to-day for us had set last night for eighteen of our fellow voyagers!had set forever for eighteen whom we knew!
The dhow had gone down with them, they were tossing about now among the rocks and seaweed, so much human drift on the great ocean of death! And we four were saved.But one day a sunrise will come when we shall be among those who are lost, and then others will watch those glorious rays, and grow sad in the midst of beauty, and dream of Death in the full glow of arising Life!
For this is the lot of man.
