Gray listened to the girl's cool statement with growing admiration.
The plan began to look feasible. It came within the bounds of reason.
The odds were against it, of course, but the law of probability is
seldom in favor of a forlorn hope. Suarez, too, making the best of a
situation which gave him no option, agreed that they had a fair chance
if once they got hold of the canoes. Nevertheless, he warned them that
he knew nothing of the surroundings of Guanaco Hill. He believed there
were no reefs on that side of the inlet, but he had never visited it.
Their greatest peril lay amid the almost impenetrable trees which grew
down to the water's edge. On his advice, Gray unshipped the mast and
threw it overboard. Then silence became imperative. If aught were
said, they must speak in the merest whisper.
The canoe darted forward again with stealthy haste. The night was
clear, though dark. The stars helped them to distinguish the outlines
of the shore now coming rapidly nearer. As they crept round the
southern cheek of Point Kansas, the Argentine ceased paddling, and
placed a warning hand on Gray's arm. The cliff was so high and steep
that its shadow plunged into deepest gloom the water at its base.
Suarez, however, had imbibed a good deal of savage lore during his
enforced residence on the island. He stretched well forward over the
bows, held a paddle as far in front as possible, and thus not only
guided the drifting canoe by an occasional dip of the blade, but
trusted to it for warning of any unseen rock.
There was a cold breeze on the surface of the bay, but the dog was the
only one who shivered, and his tremors arose from excitement. At last
they felt a slight bump. The Argentine had found the reef he was
searching for; by watching a star it was easy enough to follow the
southerly bend taken by the canoe in skirting this barrier, while their
ears caught the murmur of the swift current amid the numerous tiny
channels of the rocks. Suddenly this swirl and hum of fast-flowing
water ceased. Elsie and Gray became aware that Suarez was cautiously
drawing himself inboard again. Then his paddle dipped with a noiseless
stroke; the canoe was inside the Alaculof harbor.
The midnight blackness was now something that had a sense of actual
obstruction in it. It seemed that a hand put forth would encounter a
wall. The tide was here, but no perceptible current. For all they
could tell to the contrary, they might have been floating in Charon's
boat across some Stygian pool.
For a minute or two, Elsie's brave heart failed her. Here was a
difficulty which desperate courage could not surmount. There might be
dozens of canoes moored on all sides, but to discover them in this
pitch darkness was so obviously impossible that she almost made up her
mind to abandon this part of her enterprise. Yet the narrow-beamed
Fuegian craft she was in would hold only four more occupants, and that
with a certain risk and unwieldiness. She was as determined as ever to
cross the bay and endeavor to communicate with the imprisoned men. But
she recognized the absurdity of the thought that Courtenay and
Tollemache would consent to escape in the canoe and leave the others to
their fate, even if such a thing were practicable. Oddly enough, the
one person whose daring might reasonably be suspected, gave no signs of
the pangs of doubt. Suarez pushed forward resolutely. He knew what
Elsie had forgotten--that in each canoe used by the Indians there was a
carefully preserved fire, whose charcoal embers retained some heat and
glow all night. The first intimation of this fact was revealed by the
pungent fumes which environed them. Elsie could not help uttering a
little gasp of relief. There was a slight movement in front. Gray
leaned back and touched her hand.