Laying his rifle down hurriedly, he bent over the magneto and seized a handful of dry cotton waste.
"Me mop up all de water," grinned Ching, looking the coolest person aboard the launch. Indeed, there seemed to be little doubt that he was actually the least concerned of all the party, for his inexpressive features had not changed in the slightest. There was not so much as a tinge of red in his sallow cheeks, sure indication of some excitement. His almond eyes—all aslant, as is common to this Eastern race—regarded Jim, the useless motor, and the howling band of natives steaming across the water with the same tranquillity. "Wipey all de water up, Mass Jim," he repeated. "Now, s'pose you start him. He go velly nicely p'laps. Den run away from dem rascals, and Ching put de kettle on, hab someting to eat, 'cos Ching hungry, velly."
"Get out of this!" cried Jim irritably. "Breakfast, man! Why, if we don't get out of this in the next few minutes there won't be one of us left to take a bite!"
He pushed the Chinaman to one side, and rapidly ran over his ignition system. Ching had done his work with that painstaking thoroughness for which the Chinaman is noted, and though hollows and crevices in and about the motor still held pools of water, the vital parts were dry.
"Then I'll try it," he said. "Those beggars have managed to turn rather quicker than I had imagined; but if I can only get her going within a minute we ought to be able to escape them. Ah! here come their bullets again, boys; get in at them with your rifles."
All the while he had been troubled with the want of one small article. To keep the water out of his motor he must plug the opening which led from the vessel's side direct to the pump. For the rest, it was an easy matter, there being a tap which would drain all the jackets within the space of but a few seconds. But that alone was insufficient; with the water port still open, the pump would drive a column of fluid through the jackets, and the ignition would be again drenched.
"A cork! a cork!" he cried. "Something with which to fill this port."
He leant over the side of the vessel and pointed out the opening to Ching. And the wily, cunning Chinee immediately came to his assistance.
"A cork, sah; I's got the velly thing. You wantee someting to push in dere. Ching hab plenty fine cork."
He moved with exasperating slowness across the engine well, and rummaged in a locker in which his cooking utensils were stored. There came the characteristic sound of a bung being extracted from a bottle, and then Ching came back again, still slowly, still unconcernedly, still with that unruffled countenance.