Aided by the racking motor, the sled boat moved by spurts through the hyacinths. The Indian, naked to his waist, paddled ahead, indicating every turn in the maze.
Gradually, the mat of entangling hyacinths thinned out and they saw the main channel ahead.
“This looks more like it,” Jack sighed, putting away the poles.
The disabled motor presently brought them to the wharf of a large plantation. While Haredia and Mr. Livingston attended to getting repairs, the Scouts sat in the shade and sipped cool drinks.
“I can’t figure Haredia,” Willie remarked, swatting an insect. “Was he trying to pull a fast one on us, or not?”
“It’s easy enough to lose one’s way in a field of hyacinths,” War returned. “We can’t blame him for that, although one would think he’d know the route.”
“He was stubborn about wanting to take that other inlet,” Willie went on reflectively. “If we’d followed his advice, we’d be poling yet!”
“I wouldn’t have thought too much about it, except that he clearly didn’t want that native to guide us here,” contributed Ken. “I’m glad Happy insisted upon staying at the dock while repairs are being made.”
“Hap won’t let him pull anything,” Jack declared confidently. Draining his glass of limeade he arose and stretched his legs. “Guess I’ll amble down to the wharf to see how the work’s going. Maybe I can help.”
Bored by inactivity, Ken decided to accompany him. Leaving Willie and War to finish their drinks, the two sauntered down to the wharf where the sea sled had been raised out of water.