Brandon of the Engineers

The phosphorescent gleam of the surf got plainer and the water smoother,

for the reef was now to windward and broke the sea, but the moon was

still covered, and Dick felt some tension as he skirted the barrier. He

did not know if he could find the opening or tow the lighter through the

narrow channel. The surf, however, was of help, for it flashed into

sheets of spangled radiance as it washed across the reef, leaving dark

patches among the lambent foam. The patches had a solid look, and Dick

knew that they were rocks.

At length he saw a wider break in the belt of foam, and the sharper

plunging of the launch showed that the swell worked through. This was the

mouth of the channel, and there was water enough to float the craft if he

could keep off the rocks. Snatching the engine-lamp from its socket, he

waved it and blew the whistle. A shout reached him and showed that the

others understood.

Dick felt his nerves tingle when he put the helm over and the hawser

tightened as the lighter began to swing. If she took too wide a sweep, he

might be unable to check her before she struck the reef, and there seemed

to be a current flowing through the gap. Glancing astern for a moment, he

saw her dark hull swing through a wide curve while the strain on the

hawser dragged the launch's stern down, but she came round and the

tension slackened as he steered up the channel.

For a time he had less trouble than he expected; but the channel turned

at its outer end and wind and swell would strike at him at an awkward

angle, when he took the bend. As he entered it, the moon shone out, and

he saw the black top of a rock dangerously close to leeward. He waved the

lantern, but the lighter, with sea and current on her weather bow, forged

almost straight ahead, and the straining hawser dragged the launch back.

Reaching forward, Dick opened the throttle valve to its limit, and then

sat grim and still while the throb of the screw shook the trembling hull.

Something would happen in the next half minute unless he could get the

lighter round. Glancing back, he saw her low, wet side shine in the

moonlight. Two dark figures stood aft by the tiller, and he thought the

foam about the rock was only a fathom or two away.

The launch was hove down on her side. Though the screw thudded furiously,

she seemed to gain no ground, and then the strain on the hawser suddenly

slackened. Dick wondered whether it had broken, but he would know in the

next few seconds; there was a sharp jerk, the launch was dragged to

leeward, but recovered and forged ahead. She plunged her bows into a

broken swell and the spray filled Dick's eyes, but when he could see

again the foam was sliding past and a gap widened between the lighter's

hull and the white wash on the rock.