“There!” said Vince at last, in a triumphant tone; “that’s different to baling when you feel that the water is coming in as fast as you throw it out. I haven’t got it all, but as much as I can without making a noise.”
He replaced the bottom board and then returned the pot to the locker, and Mike moved a little forward now to meet him half-way.
“Think we’re going as fast now as ever?” whispered Mike.
“Eh? I don’t know. I was too busy to think about it. No, not quite, and— I say, are we going right?”
“Right?”
“Well, I mean as we were. We seemed to be going south, as far as I could make out by the stars; and now we’re going north.”
“Nonsense! impossible!”
“Look, then! I’m sure we had our backs to the pole star, and that meant going south, and out to sea; but now we’ve got our faces due north.”
“Yes,” said Mike, after a few moments’ pause; “that’s right: we’re going north.”
“Well, that isn’t out to sea.”