“My boys,” he said, “can fight as well on the water as they and my brave amazons can do on shore. Let them come. We will cripple them, sink them, then the work of utterly destroying them on their own shore will be easy indeed.”
Harry, on second thoughts, would have preferred surprising Kara-Kara by night, but he acquiesced in the king’s wishes.
They would be ready, therefore, and wait. How or when would the enemy come? By night or by day? and in what formation?
Tall signal-posts were built on every island, to give warning of the approach of the foe, and round every isle sentinels were stationed day and night, with great fires built and ready to light.
For there was no saying from what direction the attack might be made. In all probability they would steal round the lake under the shadow of the land, and under the cover of the darkness, and attack Googagoo at the place where he was most vulnerable.
More than once, in the starlight, small canoes had been detected gliding about at night, but were speedily chased and put to flight. They were spies without a doubt.
The island fleet had been by no means a first-class one, consisting for the most part of large dug-outs with outriggers, like great gates at each side This last certainly gave them extra stability and prevented their turning over, but it greatly lessened their speed.
Even the flagship, which the king’s barge might well be called, was rather an unwieldy craft. She was the only one that had sailing power, and that was merely a clumsy square sail, on one centre mast.
But Harry had gone in for naval reform—as far as practicable, and with all the enthusiasm of a British sailor.
He had the men—for every one of these islanders was amphibious in a manner of speaking—what he wanted was the ships.