Two hours later, when the sun had long disappeared and darkness covered the water, the prahu cast loose from her moorings, and was rowed from the creek with the river-boat in tow. Then, once in open water, her sail was hoisted and her head turned down the stream which led from Sarawak to the open sea.
"There will be a moon by the time we arrive at the mouth," said Tyler as they swept along, "and we shall be able to set a course by its aid. After that we can take it turn and turn about to steer and keep a watch. How long will it take us to get to the Sarebus, Li?"
"P'r'aps two day, p'r'aps less, massa. Me no tellee now. Allee according to de wind. Plenty same now, and if him hold, then we make de Sarebus velly soon. But better keep de silence, for dere am ships in de river, and p'r'aps de Dido hail for us to stop."
Following this piece of good advice, for in those days none were allowed to arrive in the river or depart from Sarawak without being challenged, Tyler, who was at the helm, directed the prahu for the centre of the stream, and kept her there till well at the mouth. Once someone sent a hail in their direction, but it was instantly suppressed, perhaps by the orders of those on board the Dido, who knew that their messenger must be leaving about that hour. After that all was silence and darkness till a gentle swell told them that they were at sea.
"And here is the moon," exclaimed Tyler in tones of satisfaction. "We've a long sail before us, and so I propose that we at once settle the watches. You turn in, Li, while I take her on for three hours. Then you can take the helm. When day comes we'll pull into some creek, and lie up till night returns. Now, off you go!"
With a nod he sent the Chinaman to the bows, where he at once lay down, and, accustomed to a hard bed and to his surroundings, promptly fell asleep. As for Tyler, he stood upright there beside the helm, wondering what was in store for him, and whether this expedition was destined to result in similar success to that which had favoured the previous one, or whether dire disaster was about to come upon himself and his companion.
"In any case I shall do my best, and can a fellow do more?" he said. "If possible, I shall remain hidden from the pirates, and return without having given them a suspicion that they have been spied upon. But if that is out of the question, I shall go to Rembas or to Pakoo, and trust to luck. To hand myself over to the men at Paddi would be madness, for the Dutchman suspects everyone, and would soon get to the bottom of my disguise. Well, it's no use wondering, so I'll just jog along and be thankful that the night is fine."
For three hours did Tyler maintain his position at the helm, steering a course parallel with the coast, which he was able to distinguish dimly on his right. Then, judging that he had done his turn of duty, he made the tiller fast and went to awake the Chinaman.
"Your watch," he said, as he shook him. "It's a fine night, with a moon and stars, so you will have no difficulty in keeping the course. Wake me if anything disturbs you."
Leaving the prahu in the hands of Li Sung, Tyler lay down in the bows and soon fell asleep, for by now he was hardened to an outdoor life, and had become so used to lying down to rest in a different and a strange place on every occasion, that nothing disturbed him or robbed him of his sleep; indeed, not even the prospect of the expedition before him could keep him awake, while the thought of danger and of difficulty produced no anxiety in his mind.