Next minute the vessel had stopped. There she lay, not a great way off the shore, in a calm and placid sea, with not as much wind as would lift a feather, “As idle as a painted ship, upon a painted ocean.”
In a few minutes’ time the Scotch engineer, looking rather pale, came hurrying aft.
“Well, Mr McDonald, what is the extent of the damage? Shaft broken?”
“Oh, no, sir, and I think that myself and men can put it all to rights in four days, if not sooner, and she’ll be just as strong as ever.”
“Thank you, Mr McDonald; so set to work as soon as possible, for mind you, we are lying here becalmed off an ugly coast. The yacht would make very nice pickings for these Land of Fire savages.”
“Yes, I know, sir; and so would we.”
And the worthy engineer departed, with a grim smile on his face. He came back in a few minutes to beg for the loan of a hand or two.
“Choose your men, my good fellow, and take as many as you please.”
Both Hall and Dickson watched the shore with some degree of anxiety. It was evident that the yacht was being swept perilously near to it. The tide had begun to flow, too, and this made matters worse. Nor could anyone tell what shoal water might lie ahead of them.
There was only one thing to be done, and Dickson did it. He called away every boat, and by means of hawsers to each the Wolverine was finally moved further away by nearly a mile.