The travelers crowded on deck; they saw the shore much nearer at hand than it had been before, and green instead of a dull, indeterminate color; they were surrounded by fluttering birds; they sniffed upon the air a different odor, an odor of land and growing things. Then with one accord their eyes sought the sky to see if once more a cloud threatened them.
But there was no cloud even so large as a man's hand, and the dangerous reefs were passed safely.
"But we are not moving!" cried young Conrad. "What is the matter?"
The captain pointed ahead, and Conrad saw a long rowboat cutting the water.
"We can't go into the harbor without a pilot," said the captain. "Here he comes."
Indifferent to the fact that their belongings were, after all their planning, not ready to be carried to the shore, the passengers hung over the side of the ship. There was a loud hail from the little boat, and an answering shout from the captain of the Lyon.
Suddenly Conrad cried out and seized his father by the arm.
"Look! Look!"
"What is it, lad?"
Then John Conrad saw for himself. The rowers were dark-skinned, black-haired creatures whose great bare bodies gleamed in the sun. The King of Rivers and his friends had been blanketed, but there was no mistaking these for any but men of their race.