They lurched on, seeing nothing, into the haze, but Stickine appeared to know where he was heading for, and by the easier rise and fall Appleby guessed they were pulling closer in under the sheltered side of the island.
Still, it was evident by the dull booming sound which grew louder that the swell lapped round to leeward too, and there would be a difficulty in making a landing.
Suddenly, however, the men stopped rowing, and the splash and thud ceased astern, while Stickine sharply turned his head as another sound that none of them had expected to hear came out of the haze. It was a dull grind and a rattle that jarred through the roar of the surf, and then stopped again. Appleby recognized it, and surmised that it meant peril to all of them.
"A gunboat," said Stickine half-aloud. "They're giving her more chain."
They lay on their oars a minute, staring about them and breathing hard, but could only see the sliding haze, and no sound that suggested man's presence in those misty waters reached them now.
"She's to windward. They wouldn't have heard us, boys," said Stickine quietly.
They went on, the oars splashing softly, while they strained their eyes, knowing that it was quite possible the gunboat's officers had gone ashore, and they might blunder upon her cutter. Still, there was no sound but that the seals made and the swelling roar of surf, until a wavy strip of whiteness heaved against the mist in front of them. Then Stickine laughed curiously as he turned his head and stared at the haze.
"I don't know if we'll find a cutter on the beach, but we have got to get the water, and we are going in," he said.
He gave no instructions, and they were apparently not needed, for the men knew their work, and while they bent to their oars a sea that frothed a little swung them high and carried them inshore. When they sank down on the back of it the one behind grew steeper and the boat seemed driven forward by an unseen force as she swept up on its crest. This happened several times, and then a great rattling of pebbles came out of the spray ahead and the last rush was almost bewildering. Then there was a crash, and the foam that seethed about her lapped into the boat, but the men sprang over knee-deep in water, and whipped her out, while almost before they realized that they had got there the lads found themselves standing on dry land. The men who had pulled the boats up were, however, already shouldering little wooden kegs.
"You'll stop right here with the lads," said Stickine, turning to two of them. "Get the boats down as far as you can if you hear us coming back in a hurry. Now, boys, we'll get a move on."