"

The coverings of the hatch, big, thick planks, lay not far away.
Evidently they lay just as they did on the day that the cargo of mammoth
tusks had been taken from the _Good Hope_ and hidden. Working with
feverish energy, the boys soon had the hatch covered tightly. But the
work had almost exhausted their strength. The fumes of the blazing hold
and the suffocating black smoke that rolled out, had almost caused them
to succumb.

Their desperate task accomplished, they lay panting on the deck,
incapable, for the time being, of further effort. However, with the
hatch in place and tightly dovetailed, there was a gleam of hope that
the flames might be smothered, or at least held in check till the fog
cleared and they could sight a vessel.

The first faint glimmering of dawn, shown by an increasing transparence
in the fog, found the derelict still lying inert. But a second later the
boys were on their feet with a cheer. A light breeze had sprung up and
the fog was agitated by it like drifting steam. Little by little the
breeze increased and the fog thinned out to mere wisps. The sun shone
through and disclosed a glimmering expanse of sea stretched all about.
But, to their bitter disappointment, the great heaving expanse was empty
of life. Not a sail or a sign of a steamer marred its lonely surface.

They exchanged dismayed looks. There was no knowing at what moment the
fiery, seething furnace beneath their very feet might break through and
force them to fight for their existence.

Already the decks were hot. Aside from this, however, so well did the
hatch fit that not even a wisp of smoke escaped. Except the extreme
heat, there was nothing to indicate that the interior of the _Good
Hope's_ hull was a fiery furnace.

The hours wore on, the little company of castaways dreading every moment
that what they feared might happen. Still no indication that the fire
was about to break through occurred. But their sufferings from thirst
were terrible. One after another the Boy Scouts sank to the decks in a
sort of coma. Rob, Merritt, and the ensign himself alone retained their
strength.

"If some vessel doesn't appear before long we are doomed."

It was Rob who spoke, and the mere fact that the others were silent
indicated plainly that they shared his opinion.

Despite their sufferings and anxiety a bright lookout was kept. It was
Rob who electrified them by a sudden shout:

"Look! Look out there to the north!"

"A sail!