Just then there was a whirling rush of cool wind, which rippled the whole surface of the water.
“I shall take care of ’em, sir,” said Shaddy. “Here comes the dinghy. Better get aboard whilst you can. She’ll be off that sand-bank ’fore an hour’s past. You can send us a bit of the fish, Mr Harlow. Haul us up close, and drop some in.”
“Yes, I’ll look after you, Shaddy,” replied Rob.
“And if this wind holds we shall soon be in the Paraguay river, sir, and sailing into another climate, as you’ll see.”
They went on board the schooner, where they were warmly welcomed by the Italian skipper, and in less time than Shaddy had suggested there was a heavy sea on, which rocked the loftily masted vessel from side to side. Then a sail or two dropped down, a tremendous gust of moisture-laden air came from the south, the schooner rose, dipped her bowsprit, creaked loudly, and as quite a tidal wave rushed up the river before the storm she seemed to leap off the sand-bank on its crest right into deep water, and sailed swiftly away due north.
All whose duty did not keep them on deck were snugly housed in the cabin, listening to the deafening roar of the thunder and watching the lightning, which flashed incessantly, while the rain beat and thrashed the decks and poured out of the scuppers in cascades.
“They were right,” said Brazier to Rob. “We’re better here, but if this goes on our boat will be half full of water, and not a thing left dry.”
“Shaddy will take care of them,” said Rob quietly. “Besides, most of the things are packed in casks, and will not hurt.”
Mr Brazier shook his head.
“I don’t know,” he said; “I’m afraid we shall have to renew our stock of provisions and powder at Assuncion, and they’ll make us pay pretty dearly for it, too.”