"If--"
There was a world of belief in that one word. Could any one doubt the
ultimate hap of that thrice fortunate ship? Had not Mr. Boyle said her
captain was a lucky man? Elsie laughed aloud in her joy, for the queer
notion occurred to her that her grumpy friend would surely have some
remarkable story of the one-legged skipper of the Flower of the Ocean
brig, wherewith to point the moral and adorn the tale of the Kansas
and her commander.
Though Courtenay did not allow ten seconds to pass without a glance at
the charming face by his side, he, nevertheless, had a sharp eye for
events elsewhere. He saw smoke rising from the funnel of the ship; a
line of flags dancing from the foremast told him that Boyle had
discovered them as soon as they were clear of the deep shadow of
Guanaco Hill. But there were anxious moments yet in store. A fleet of
canoes put off from Otter Creek. There was every prospect of a fight
before they reached their fortress. They had a long two miles to
travel, and the Indians could attack them ere they covered half the
distance.
Gray and Tollemache were sitting together in the fore part of the boat.
When they had met in the cañon they had merely exchanged a hearty grip,
and Gray's inquiry if his friend was O.K. had elicited the information
that his general state was "Fair." But the sight of the sparkling bay
had unlocked even the Englishman's lips, for he was telling his friend
some of the adventures of the previous afternoon, when he viewed the
black dots darting forth from behind Point Kansas.
"Here they come again," he growled. "I never have seen such persistent
rotters. And this time we're in a fix."
A long blare from the ship's siren thrilled their hearts, but the
excitement became frantic when three short, sharp blasts followed, and
every sailor knew that the chief officer had signalled: "My engines are
going full speed astern."
That was a pardonable exaggeration, but the Kansas was certainly
moving. They could see the white foam churned up by her propeller.
With one accord they cheered madly, and the oars, double-handed now,
tore the life-boat onward at a pace which outstripped even the shallow
canoes.
Then the Indians did a wise thing. They spared many of their own
lives, and, perchance others of greater value to the world, by ceasing
to paddle. The unlooked-for interference of the great vessel was too
much for them. They merely stared and cackled in amaze, while the
small flotilla dashed towards the towering black hull, and Boyle
lowered the gangway in readiness to receive the captain, his bride
elect, and a good half of the passengers and crew.