Surely enough the steamer’s captain was executing the very maneuver at which von Kluck had guessed. By backing on his engines he succeeded in drawing the vessel so far to one side of the dangerous rock that it was passed. Only a margin extremely narrow intervened.
But the danger had not passed. Another rock threatened to tear to pieces the all but helpless vessel. With straining eyes and beating hearts the lads watched anxiously as this danger was also cleared.
They clung to the weather shrouds in spite of the whip-like sting of sleet and spray, watching the struggle against wind, wave and rock.
At length the vessel won through the dangerous places. It was now so close that the boys could make out the details of the rigging. Ned procured a pair of binoculars and spelled out the name.
“That steamer is the Anne of Melbourne,” he announced. “I wonder if it isn’t an Australian vessel. They have had a hard time of it.”
“She’s close to us now,” cried Harry. “I wonder what they’ll do.”
“If they’re wise they’ll let go an anchor and ride it out,” answered Jimmie. “If I had sense enough to bring a vessel through a tight place like that I’d get a hook overboard as soon as I could.”
“That’s just what they are doing!” announced Ned. “There’s a group of men at the forward end preparing to get the anchor over.”
Directly the boys heard the rattle of the cable in the steamer’s hawse pipes, followed instantly by a great splash at the bow that told as plainly as words that the ground tackle was out.
Still feeling the heave of waves surging around the head of the island the steamer slowly swung to her cable. The range lights shifted their position. The red side light disappeared.