Chapter XIX: A Flash in the Dark

An hour later darkness lay like a black blanket over the waters of Superior. Every moment of that hour saw the gale increase and the waves mount higher, yet the strong arms of Katie never wavered. Heading straight away from the storm, she held their boat to a course.

Florence was obliged to admit that for once her steady nerves that had stood so much had now all but deserted her. What was the end to be? Would they drift on and on in the path of the storm until waves were strong enough to swamp their boat? As she listened she caught the low hiss of each wave and shuddered in spite of her courage.

Then, with a suddenness that was startling, a light that was fairly blinding flashed over their heads. Florence was thrown into consternation.

“Ka-Katie!” she cried. “What is it? Are we in the path of a steamer?” Through her mind there flashed a vision of some black bulk looming out of the night.

As for Katie, so overcome by emotion was she that for a space of seconds she could not speak. When at last she found her voice, she exclaimed joyously, “It is the Passage Island light. I forgot it. We are almost at the island. Listen—”

As they both listened there came the roar of waters beating on rocks.

“It—it’s terrible,” Florence said in a low, awed tone. “We couldn’t land there. Our boat would be smashed to splinters.”

“No, not there,” Katie agreed. “But on this side there is an entrance. There is a snug little harbor. If only we can find that—”

“Yes, if only we can. We—”

Suddenly Florence’s voice was drowned by a hoarse hoot that filled all the night.

“Oh!” she all but jumped out of the boat. Then she laughed. “The Passage fog horn! I have heard it at a distance.”

“Yes,” Katie agreed, “the light and the horn. They should have been there before.”

“Perhaps something was wrong with their power.”

After that, for some time neither girl spoke. Katie was busy with the oars and Florence with her thoughts. Long thoughts they were, you may be sure.

It was a relief to know their position. And yet, how much danger lurked before them? Ships going north pass between Isle Royale and Passage Island. Should they find themselves in the path of a freighter the black waters of the night might swallow up their smashed boat. Their fate would never be known. They were headed for Passage Island. But could they find the entrance to that harbor?

“Katie,” Florence said, “how wide is it?”

“Is what?” Katie demanded.

“The entrance to that harbor.”

“Twenty feet, I think,” Katie replied.

“Twenty feet!” Florence thought this but did not say it. Could they find such an entrance in the dark and could they, with waves mounting high, make that entrance? It seemed to her all but impossible.

A sudden feeling of rebellion swept over her. Here she was taking a day off, trying to have a good time. For weeks she had worked hard with little or no hope of reward. She had worked for the good of others. And now—

“It’s not fair!” she whispered. “Not fair at all.” Her fists clenched tight, she looked out over the black waters where white crests of foam played.

One moment more and she was in a different mood. What was it, after all, that she had asked of life? Thrills, adventure, suspense, mystery, that was it. Happy adventure. Well, she had known all these.

“And this,” she told herself stoutly, “shall be just one more happy adventure.”

But now Katie was straining eyes and ears. “We are close, perhaps too close,” she murmured. “Sometimes the waves, they bring you in.”

She veered to the right. Dashes of spray cut sharply at their cheeks. “We must take it,” she insisted, “or we may crash.”

Florence “took it” in silence.

The whole setting was strange beyond belief. With that bright light flashing above them they were in darkness. Not one trace could they see of the cliffs against which the waters dashed madly.

Then, for the first time, as if to light their way, there came a gleam from the clouds.

“Lightning!” said Florence.

“Rocks! Close—too close!” exclaimed Katie. They were both right.

The moments that followed will remain long in Florence’s memory. No more flashes came. The roar of surf on rocks was deafening. They were close. But how close? Were there low, jutting rocks ahead? Would there come a grinding crash and after that the end? Somewhere in that wall was a gap. Where? How were they to find it?

It seemed the darkness and suspense would become unbearable. Then came again that flash across the sky. Three flashes, close together. These served only to mock them. The first flash gave them hope. The rocky wall was still there. Perhaps the gap was only a little way ahead.

Now came a second flash. What was this? The wall was low now. It seemed that here were only jagged rocks. The girl’s heart sank.

One more moment passed into eternity, then another flash and she knew. About them was only black water flecked with foam. They had drifted past the mile-long island without finding the gap. They could not go back. They must go on. Where to?

Florence buried her face in her hands and tried to think, but her thoughts, like the sky and sea, were one mad whirl.