“We’re in the channel,” shouted Hal.
Mac soon confirmed the belief of the other boys. Bow on, the steamer crept slowly forward. The Escambia, little as it may have helped, stuck to her work, straining at its cable like a river tug snorting at a liner’s nose.
“We’re off the point,” explained Mac some minutes later, and then the low sky line of the black sand spit rose above the yeasty water.
“There she goes!” yelled Mac suddenly as the two jibs filled with an explosive bang. “Can’t do any more with this boat.” As he spoke he shut off the engine. “Ship them oars and git busy. Everybody on the steamer to bear a hand. We got to get an anchor out now or drift on to the mud.”
A half hour previously, a few stars had attempted to show themselves, but they had been blotted out again, and for the last ten minutes, a drizzle of rain had been falling. As the jibs banged, the long laboring steamer thrust her bow behind the sheltering point of the peninsula, and the dying waves rushing up the pass fell away into swirling angry currents.
“Up ye go,” shouted Mac, and the benumbed and stiff oarsmen hauled the life boat alongside the just moving iron hulk. Mac and Jerry led the way, and their tireless hands were waiting to give help to their less seasoned companions.
The steamer was not wholly within the protection of the point, but the scanty sails and the Escambia could do no more. Again nearly broadside on to the still driving wind, the hulk was already drifting toward the marsh-lined shore of the bay behind the sand spit. Captain Joe met the boys, lantern in hand. He seemed in no way elated over his feat.
“De port anchor,” were his only words, and Mac, Jerry and Tom hastened to their new task. Captain Joe thrust the lantern upon Bob, and gave a hand himself. Bob, excited as he was, glanced at his watch. It was a quarter of one o’clock. Then, with a sudden crash, the port anchor shot into the sea, and the four hours battle was at an end.
Captain Joe, Tom and Mac visited the captain’s cabin at once, and found that seaman unconscious from either fever or drink, or both. The shivering owner of the mahogany cargo was maudlinly grateful, but still so disturbed mentally that he was conducted to his cabin and ordered to bed.