Brandon of the Engineers Part 44

"The man's by way of being a friend of mine and took you into his house when you were in some danger of bleeding to death. I'm not sure that he's guilty, and now I've come with you, am going to see he gets fair play; but if you can prove your charge, you may do what you like with him. I think we'll let it go at that."

d.i.c.k nodded. "In the first place, we must make our port, and it's lucky we'll have smooth water until the sea breeze gets up."

Telling the fireman he could go to sleep, he moved about the engine with an oilcan and afterwards cleaned the fire. Then he lay on the counter with his hand on the helm while the launch sped across the gla.s.sy sea, leaving a long wake astern. The high coast ahead got clearer, but after a time dark-blue lines began to streak the glistening water and puffs of wind fanned the men's faces. The puffs were gratefully fresh and the heat felt intolerable when they pa.s.sed, but by and by they settled into a steady draught and the dark lines joined, until the sea was all a glowing ultramarine. Then small ripples splashed about the launch and d.i.c.k glanced ahead.

"She's steaming well," he said as he listened to the steady snort of the exhaust and humming of the cranks. "It's lucky, because there's some weight in the wind."

Some hours later, when the sea was flecked with white, they closed with a strip of gray-green forest that seemed to run out into the water. The launch rolled and lurched as the foam-tipped combers hove her up and the awning flapped savagely in the whistling breeze. Away on the horizon, there was a dingy trail of smoke. Presently Jake stood up on deck, and watched the masts that rose above the fringe of trees.

"There's a black-top funnel like the Danish boat's, and a flag with red and white on it, but it's hanging limp. They don't feel the breeze inside."

He jumped down as d.i.c.k changed his course, and they pa.s.sed a spit of surf-washed sand, rounded the last clump of trees, and opened up the harbor mouth. The sunshine fell upon a glaring white and yellow town, and oily water glittered between the wharf and the dark hulls of anch.o.r.ed vessels, but d.i.c.k suddenly set his lips. He knew the Danish boat, and she was not there.

"She's gone," said Jake with a hint of relief in his voice. "That was her smoke on the skyline."

CHAPTER XXVIII

ROUGH WATER

As soon as they entered port, d.i.c.k and Jake went to the office of a Spanish shipbroker, who offered them his polite sympathy.

"We had very little cargo here, and when he heard there was some dyewood at San Ignacio the captain steamed off again," he explained.

"What sort of a port is San Ignacio, and how far is it?" d.i.c.k asked.

"It is an _aldea_ on the sh.o.r.e of a lagoon, with a wharf that small boats can reach, about forty miles from here."

"Then they take the dyewood off in boats? If there is much of the stuff, it would be a long job."

"That is so, senor. The boats can only reach the wharf when the tide is high. At other times, the cargo must be carried down through the mud."

"Have you a large chart of this coast?"

The broker brought a chart and d.i.c.k studied it for some minutes, making notes in his pocket-book. Then he looked up.

"Where can I get fresh water?"

The broker asked how much he wanted and after taking some paper money gave him a ticket.

"There is a pipe on the wharf and when the peon sees the receipt he will fill your tanks."

d.i.c.k thanked him and going out with Jake found their fireman asleep in a wine-shop. They had some trouble in wakening the man and after sending him off to get the water, ordered some wine. The room was dirty and filled with flies, but the lattice shutters kept out the heat and they found the shadow pleasant after the glare outside. Jake dropped into a cane chair with a sigh of content. He felt cramped and stiff after the long journey in the narrow c.o.c.kpit of the plunging launch, and was sensible of an enjoyable la.s.situde. It would be delightful to lounge about in the shade after refreshing himself with two or three cool drinks, but he had misgivings that this was not what d.i.c.k meant to do.

When he had drained a large gla.s.s of light, sweet wine, he felt peacefully at ease, and resting his head on the chair-back closed his eyes. After this he was conscious of nothing until d.i.c.k said: "It's not worth while to go to sleep."

"Not worth while?" Jake grumbled drowsily. "I was awake all last night.

It's quiet and cool here and I can't stand for being broiled outside."

"I'm afraid you'll have to. We start as soon as Maccario has filled the tank."

Jake roused himself with a jerk. d.i.c.k leaned forward wearily with his elbow on the table, but he looked resolute.

"Then you haven't let up yet? You're going on to the lagoon?"

"Certainly," said d.i.c.k. "The Danish boat has an hour's start, but she only steams eight or nine knots and it will take some time to load her cargo."

"But we can't drive the launch hard. The breeze is knocking up the sea."

"We'll try," d.i.c.k answered, and Jake growled in protest. His dream of rest and sleep, and perhaps some mildly exciting adventure when the citizens came out in the cool of the evening, had been rudely banished.

Moreover, he had had another reason for being philosophical when he thought his comrade baulked.

"It's a fool trick. She won't make it if the sea gets bad."

d.i.c.k smiled dryly. "We can turn back if we find her getting swamped. It looks as if you were not very anxious to overtake Kenwardine."

"I'm not," Jake admitted. "If you're determined to go, I'm coming, but I'd be glad of a good excuse for letting the matter drop."

Somewhat to his surprise, d.i.c.k gave him a sympathetic nod. "I know; I've felt like that, but the thing can't be dropped. It's a hateful job, but it must be finished now."

"Very well," Jake answered, getting up. "If we must go, the sooner we start the better."

The launch looked very small and dirty when they looked down on her from the wharf, and Jake noted how the surf broke upon the end of the sheltering point. Its deep throbbing roar warned him what they might expect when they reached open water, but he went down the steps and helped d.i.c.k to tighten some bearing bra.s.ses, after which a peon threw down their ropes and the screw began to rattle. With a few puffs of steam from her funnel the launch moved away and presently met the broken swell at the harbor mouth. Then her easy motion changed to a drunken lurch and Jake gazed with misgivings at the white-topped seas ahead.

She went through the first comber's crest with her forefoot in the air and the foam washing deep along the tilted deck, while the counter vanished in a white upheaval. Then it swung up in turn, and frames and planking shook as the engine ran away. This happened at short intervals as she fought her way to windward in erratic jerks, while showers of spray and cinders blew aft into the face of her crew.

d.i.c.k drove her out until the sea got longer and more regular, when he turned and followed the coast, but the flashing blue and white rollers were now on her beam and flung her to lee as they pa.s.sed. Sometimes one washed across her low counter, and sometimes her forward half was buried in a tumultuous rush of foam. The pump was soon started and they kept it going, but the water gathered in the crank-pit, where it was churned into lather, and Jake and Maccario relieved each other at helping the pump with a bucket. They were drenched and half blinded by the spray, but it was obvious that their labor was needed and they persevered.

Stopping for breath now and then, with his back to the wind, Jake glanced at the coast as the boat swung up with a sea. It made a hazy blur against the brilliant sky, but his eyes were smarting and dazzled. There was a confusing glitter all around him, and even the blue hollows they plunged into were filled with a luminous glow. Still he thought they made progress, though the launch was drifting to leeward fast, and he told d.i.c.k, who headed her out a point or two.

"This is not the usual sea breeze; it's blowing really fresh," he said.

"Do you think it will drop at sundown?"

"I'm not sure," d.i.c.k replied, shading his eyes as he glanced at the windward horizon.

"Then suppose it doesn't drop?"

"If the sea gets dangerous, we'll put the helm up and run for shelter."

"Where do you expect to find it?"

"I don't know," d.i.c.k admitted. "There are reefs and shoals along the coast that we might get in behind."

Jake laughed. "Well, I guess this is a pretty rash adventure. You won't turn back while you can see, and there are safer things than running for a shoal you don't know, in the dark. However, there's a point one might get a bearing from abeam and I'll try to fix our position. It might be useful later."

Stooping beside the compa.s.s, he gazed at the hazy land across its card, and then crept under the narrow foredeck with a chart. He felt the bows sweep upwards, pause for a moment, and suddenly lurch down, but now the sea was long and regular, the motion was rhythmic. Besides, the thud and gurgle of water outside the boat's thin planks were soothing and harmonized with the measured beat of the screw. Jake got drowsy and although he had meant to take another bearing when he thought he could double the angle, presently fell asleep.