Fred Sanders took a small compass from his pocket, and studied it carefully for a minute or two by the light of the moon. Then he gave directions to Storms to bear more to the left, or the westward, until finally he informed him that they were heading directly for the port where all their hopes were now centered.
The wind fell slightly, but the pursuing boat steadily gained, and it was impossible to see how our friends could escape a hand-to-hand fight with the pirates, and there could be but one issue to such an encounter.
The islanders were thoughtful enough to lower their immense sail, and stand by until they could pick up their comrade struggling in the water, actuated probably as much by curiosity to know the facts as by humanity.
This gave our friends a show once more, and they drew away from their pursuers; but, alas! not to an extent to leave them out of sight, and until they could do so, they could not hope to accomplish anything.
Mr. Storms was not without a strong hope of seeing 250 some friendly sail, to which they could hasten for assistance, and he continually searched the horizon, telling Inez to do the same.
Captain Fred did not expect anything of that nature, and, since the glasses were in his hands, he kept them turned most of the time in the direction of the double canoe, and called out his information and orders to his mate at the helm.
Of course the distance was much less than a mile, or the proa would scarcely have been discernible, but the moonlight was strong, such as those who live in temperate zones can hardly realize, and the illumination of the sea was wonderfully brilliant.
Both Fred and Storms, who had spent years in the South Seas, agreed that they had never seen anything like it before, and, for all purposes, it might as well have been broad day. The finest print could have been read with ease, and the glasses leveled at the approaching boat showed the crowds of swarthy pirates on board, all as eager as wolves to come up with the craft, which they were gaining so steadily upon.
And the fugitives knew well enough what the sequel would be. The rival of Captain Fred would want no better excuse for cutting him and his companions to pieces, and the wealth in their possession would be more “loot” than the same parties could obtain in a dozen piratical expeditions.