ibly as she struck the sand. It
looked as if she were driving sideways across the shoal, but the flare on
the launch had gone out and Kit doubted if Mayne knew where he was.

Sometimes the tall, black forecastle swung in a quarter-circle;
sometimes the stern went round. For the most part, however, she lay with
her side to the rollers and it was plain that the struggle could not
last long. If they did not get off in a few minutes, rivets would smash
and butts open, and one must take one's chances in the boats. Two were
damaged, but others might be launched, and Kit was relieved to note that
two or three deck-hands moved about as if engaged in clearing the
davit-tackles. He sympathized with the men, although he did not think
Mayne had given them orders.

In the meantime, Adam clung to the rails, swaying when the bridge
slanted, but looking unmoved, and Kit knew that so long as the _Rio
Negro's_ engines turned he would go on. It was not for nothing men called
him the Buccaneer, and now that he was staking his life and fortune on a
hazardous chance there was something daunting about his grim resolve.

A sea rolled up astern and buried the poop. Kit felt the steamer lift
and turn, as if on a pivot at the middle of her length. The after-deck
was full of water, but the bows were high and going round, and he was
conscious of a curious shiver that ran through the straining hull as she
shook herself free from the sand. She crawled forward, stopped, and
moved again with a staggering lurch. The next sea swept her on, but she
did not strike, and after a few moments Kit knew she had crossed the top
of the shoal.

Her whistle shrieked above the turmoil of the sea, a light blinked in
the spray, and she lurched on before the tumbling combers. By and by the
water got smooth and an indistinct dark mass grew out of the mist.
Mayne, who was pacing up and down his bridge, stopped near Kit with a
reckless laugh.

"This is the kind of navigation they break skippers for! If those are the
mangroves on False Point, I may take her in; if they're not, we'll make a
hole in the forest."

Kit looked about, but could not see the launch. The dark mass was a thick
belt of trees, but he did not know, and did not think Mayne knew, where
they were, and the easy motion indicated that the tide was carrying the
steamer on. Much to his relief, the indistinct wall of forest seemed to
bend back, away from the sea. It looked as if they were entering the
lag