“Yes, we must look and see the worst,” groaned Oliver. Then stamping his foot: “Why are we not there to help him?”
He ceased speaking, and stood leaning forward, with his eyes just above the edge of the rock, gazing, fascinated by the scene before him. There were the four vessels all clear in the brilliant sunshine, three of them with their prows aimed straight at the fourth, which appeared to be doomed as it glided along with its sails well filled, rushing now for the opening before it, and the sea.
Closer and closer the canoes on either side, gliding along, with their dark sides flecked with silver, and their black crews toiling on with wondrous exactitude, on and on with increasing speed, while the third canoe slackened, and suddenly was thrown right across the opening, as if to block the gateway leading to freedom. On either side the huge breakers glided in softly, and then, as they reached the reef; rose, curled over, glistening with green, blue, and gold, as they hung for a moment or two on high, and then crashed down into sparkling gems, from which diamond dust seemed to rise in a soft vapoury cloud.
But still the collision did not come. The distance was greater than the watchers had allowed for, and in those exciting moments time seemed to be long-drawn-out.
“Now it’s coming,” cried Oliver, at last. “Good-bye, Rimmer, I liked you, after all. Ah!”
His last ejaculation was quite a wild exciting cry, for the distance between the prows of the two canoes, and the sides of the lugger grew less and less, and then they seemed to strike and go right through her, while imagination painted her crew struggling in the water, to be pierced through and through by the spears of the savages.
“Hurrah!” shouted Drew suddenly, and a film of mist which had been blurring Oliver Lane’s eyes, suddenly cleared away, for though the two prows had seemed to go through the lugger, there she was still racing on for the gap, while the two canoes partly crossed behind her stern after she had dashed between them, and their occupants were curving round to go in chase, crossing and taking up their positions on either side astern.
“Escaped for the moment, but it’s all over,” cried Oliver, “they’ll take her now, she can’t get away. Look, what is Rimmer going to do? Oh, it is madness.”
Madness or no, the mate’s decision was plain enough to them now, and it was evident that he had some faith in the strength of his boat, for onward she was rushing straight for the side of the great sixty-foot long canoe which blocked the way. One minute the watchers saw her rise up on one of the rollers that came pouring through the opening, the next she was nearly lost to sight, but only to rise again upon another, being suspended in equilibrium for a few moments and then careening over, she dashed down a slope of water, right on to, and as it were, over the long narrow canoe and then off and away to sea.
Oliver Lane could hardly believe it for the moment, but it was all true enough, there was the Little Planet sailing away, while through the opening in the reef the great canoe floated bottom upwards, and the white foamy water was seen to be dotted with black heads, whose owners were swimming for the wreck of their vessel, or to the two canoes which approached them.