“Yes, of smoke.”
“Ay, ay, sir, I see it,” said one of the sailors. “Hooray! it’s the Teaser with the wind blowing hard astern and carrying the smoke of her funnel right over her and ahead.”
“The Teaser or some other steamer; and she’s running fast for harbour. Let’s see: those are the Black Gull Islands to port there. Were you with us when the cutter’s crew landed, Jecks?”
“Yes, sir; I rowed stroke-oar, sir.”
“To be sure. The second one from the north had the highest ground.”
“Yes, sir; but you couldn’t land for the surf and the shark-fin rocks, if you remember.”
“Exactly; and we rowed along the south channel till we found a sheltered sand-cove, where we beached the cutter, and then explored the island. We must make for that channel, and try to reach it before the storm comes down. We could not get half-way to the river, and, thank heaven, the Teaset will soon be in safety.”
“No, sir, you couldn’t make no river to-night.”
“It will be dark too soon.”
“Not to-night, sir,” said Jecks sturdily.