CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

HOW NATURE SEEMED A FOE.

The distance was not great, and as Captain Strong gazed before him,
knowing, as he did, the perils to be encountered, he hesitated, and was
disposed to stay. But the first step had been taken, and, giving his
orders in a whisper, he went to the helm, while Gregory and Morgan
prepared to hoist the sail, and the men bent steadily to their long
oars.

The light increased, and there seemed to be nothing to prevent the
little vessel from passing safely round the southern point, for the
water looked smoothness itself; but none knew better than the captain
the rocks that were in his path, while away to his right over the
northern arm of the bay lay three praus teeming with bloodthirsty savage
men who would be ready to rush in pursuit the moment they were seen.

It was a painful dilemma for the captain, who had, however, been longing
to make his present venture, but shrank therefrom as too risky till
opinions other than his own urged his attempt. But there was his
position. If he kept to the darkness, wreck seemed certain; if to the
light, he must be seen.

And now the light was most vivid, but still he kept on, the little
cutter gliding slowly on over water that seemed to be golden, while Mark
held his breath as he watched the northern point till by slow degrees
first one and then another and then the third of the praus came full
into view with their rough rigging and cordage distinctly seen in the
glowing light.

Other eyes than Mark's watched the praus, and it was a matter of
surprise to all that the cutter went on and on to the second passage
through the rocks off the south point, round which, if they were
fortunate, she would be able to pass--the first passage being only safe
for the gig--while the praus, if they started in pursuit, would have to
sail out quite half a mile before they could round their point, and as
great a distance back, which would give the fugitives a good start along
the lagoon.

No one spoke as the cutter glided slowly on, the sweeps dipping
regularly and almost without a sound. For fully five minutes this
continued, but to all on board, as they crouched down for the shelter of
the low bulwark, it seemed more like five hours. There they were in
full sight of the praus, but not a sound reached them, and in a whisper
the captain said to Mark, who was at his side:

"They must be all asleep. Oh for a little wind!"

But there was not