He did not know yet whether the ship was entering some unknown straits

or the mouth of a narrow land-locked bay. If the latter, the presence

of the distant glaciers and the nearer torrents warned him of a

possible bar, on which the Kansas might be lost within sight of safe

anchorage. Not inspired guesswork now, but the skill of the pilot, was

needed; this crossing the bar in broad daylight was as great a trial of

nerve in its way as the earlier onward rush in the dark.

Wind and sea had abated so sensibly that the Pacific rollers raced on

unbroken, and it was no longer a super-human task to make one's voice

heard along the deck.

So the captain aroused Walker with a sharp order: "Go and see if the donkey-boiler has a good head of steam. We may have

to drop the stream anchor quick, and both bowers as well. If

Tollemache is doing his work properly, go forward, and keep a sharp

lookout for broken water. Clear off the tarpaulins, and be ready to

lower away the instant I sing out."

Walker, who had been gazing spellbound at the majestic haven opening up

before the ship, hurried on his errand. He found Tollemache seated on

an upturned bucket, in which the taciturn one had just washed his face

and hands.

"Have you seen it?" demanded Walker, gleefully, while his practised

eyes took in the state of the gages and he overran a number of oil taps

with nimble fingers.

"Seen what?" asked Tollemache, without removing his pipe.

"The land, my bonnie lad. We-ah wunnin' wight in now."

"We've been doing that for hours."

"Yes, but this is diff'went. The'aw's a fine wiv-ah ahead. Have ye

ev-ah seen the Tyne? Well, just shove Sooth Sheels an' Tynemouth a few

hundwed feet high-ah, an' you've got it. Now, don't twy to talk, or

you might cwack yo' face."

With this Parthian shaft of humor he vanished towards the forecastle,

whence the ubiquitous donkey-boiler, through one of its long arms,

would shoot forth the stockless anchors at the touch of a lever.

Tollemache, who had already glimpsed the coast, strolled out on deck

and bent well over the side in order to look more directly ahead. He

could see one half only of the view, but that sufficed.

"A respite!" he growled to himself. "Penal servitude instead of sudden

death."

And, indeed, this was the true aspect of things, as Courtenay

discovered when he had successfully brought the ship past three ugly

reefs and dropped anchor in the backwater of a small sheltered bay. He

speedily abandoned the half-formed hope that the Kansas might have

run into an ocean water-way which communicated with Smyth Channel. The

rampart of snow-clad hills had no break, while a hasty scrutiny of the

chart showed him that the eastern coast of Hanover Island had been

thoroughly surveyed. Yet it was not in human nature that he should not

experience a rush of joy at the thought that, by his own efforts, he

had saved his ship and some, at least, of the lives entrusted to his

care. He was alone when the music of the chains in the hawse-pipes

sounded in his ears. The Kansas had plenty of room to swing, but he

thought it best to moor her. Believing implicitly now that he would

yet bring his vessel into the Thames, he allowed her to be carried

round by the fast-flowing tide until her nose pointed seaward, and she

lay in the comparatively still water inshore. Then he dropped the

second anchor and stepped forth from the chart-house. His long vigil

was ended. Some of the cloud of care lifted from his face, and he

called cheerily to Joey.




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