The Children's Hour, v 5. Stories From Seven Old FavoritesTappan, Eva March
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The Children's Hour, v 5. Stories From Seven Old Favorites
Tappan, Eva March
Children's stories; Literature -- Adaptations
Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt when I sunk
into the water; for though I swam very well, yet I could not deliver
myself from the waves so as to draw breath, till that wave having
driven me, or rather carried me, a vast way on towards the shore, and
having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land almost dry,
but half dead with the water I took in. I had so much presence of
mind, as well as breath left, that seeing myself nearer the mainland
than I expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavored to make on towards
the land as fast as I could, before another wave should return and
take me up again. But I soon found it was impossible to avoid it; for
I saw the sea come after me as high as a great hill, and as furious as
an enemy, which I had no means or strength to contend with. My
business was to hold my breath, and raise myself upon the water, if I
could; and so, by swimming, to preserve my breathing, and pilot myself
towards the shore, if possible; my greatest concern now being that the
sea, as it would carry me a great way towards the shore when it came
on, might not carry me back again with it when it gave back towards
the sea.
The wave that came upon me again buried me at once twenty or thirty
feet deep in its own body, and I could feel myself carried with a
mighty force and swiftness towards the shore a very great way; but I
held my breath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all my
might. I was ready to burst with holding my breath when, as I felt
myself rising up, so, to my immediate relief, I found my head and
hands shoot out above the surface of the water; and though it was not
two seconds of time that I could keep myself so, yet it relieved me
greatly, gave me breath and new courage. I was covered again with
water a good while, but not so long but I held it out; and finding the
water had spent itself, and began to return, I struck forward against
the return of the waves, and felt ground again with my feet. I stood
still a few moments to recover breath, and till the water went from
me, and then took to my heels and ran with what strength I had farther
towards the shore. But neither would this deliver me from the fury of
the sea, which came pouring in after me again, and twice more I was
lifted up by the waves and carried forwards as before, the shore being
very flat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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