Her progress was obvious. One felt the headlong rush, and Lister thought about a toboggan speeding down an icy slope. The roller would bear her on until it broke, but if she struck the sand she might not lift again. She did not strike; there was another wild leap forward, a savage plunge, and a comber crashed astern. It looked as if she had crossed the shoal and Lister let go the wheel and got his breath. He had used no effort, but he gasped and his hand shook.
The gong signaled half-speed, and when he slowed his engines the roar of escaping steam pierced the turmoil of the surf. This was significant, because he could not have heard the steam a few minutes earlier. Terrier rolled, but the rolling was not violent and began to get easy. The gong signaled stand by, stop; he shut the valve and presently heard the anchor plunge and the rattle of running chain. Then Terrier swung languidly and all was quiet but for the monotonous rumble in the background. Lister gave some orders and went to his room.
In the morning, he put a greasy jacket over his pajamas and went on deck. The land breeze had dropped and it was very calm. Vague trees loomed in the fog that hid the beach; there was a belt of dull, heaving water, and then the spray cloud closed the view. The air was heavy, the men on deck moved slackly, and Lister's skin was wet by sweat. He felt dull and shrank from effort, but when he saw Brown in a boat alongside he jumped on board.
The light was getting brighter and the wreck lay about a hundred yards off. The stump of her broken funnel, a bare iron mast, a smashed deckhouse, and a strip of slanted side rose from the languid swell. The rows of plates were red with rust and encrusted by shells. When the smooth undulations sank, long weed swung about in the sandy water. Lister thought the story of the wreck was, on the surface, plain. Steaming out with a heavy load, Arcturus had struck the bar. The surf had beaten in her hatches, broken some plates, and afterwards washed her back across the sand. Then, while the captain tried to reach the beach, she had sunk in deeper water. The story was plausible, but, if Cartwright had found the proper clew, it did not account for all.
They rowed round Arcturus. She lay with a sharp list and her other side was under water. The tide was beginning to rise and when it crept up her slanted deck they pulled back to the tug.
"We'll moor the hulk alongside and rig the diving pumps. I think that's all to-day," Brown remarked. "When the sun is low I'll go to the factory up the creek and try to hire some native boys. On this coast, a white man who does heavy work soon gets fever."
In the afternoon they took two men and rowed up a muddy creek that flowed into the lagoon, but the factory was farther than they thought and when they landed dusk was falling. The white-washed wooden house stood near the bank, with a stockaded compound between it and the water. It was built on piles and at the top of the outside stairs a veranda ran along the front. The compound was tunneled by land-crabs' holes, and light mist crept about the giant cotton woods behind. There was no movement of air, a sickly smell rose from the creek, and all was very damp.
Lister and Brown went up the stairs and were received by a white man in a big damp room. A lamp hung from a beam and the light touched the patches of mildew on the discolored walls. There was not much furniture; a few canvas chairs, a desk and a table. Flies crawled about the table and hovered in a black swarm round the lamp. The room smelt of palm oil and river mud. The white man was young, but his face was haggard and he looked worn. His rather long hair was wet and his duck jacket was dirty. It was obvious that he did not bother about his clothes.
"Good of you to look me up! I expect you know I'm Montgomery; the house is Montgomery and Raeburn," he said. "However, to begin with, you had better have a drink. I'll call my boy."
A negro came in and got a bottle and some glasses. He was a strongly-built fellow with a blue stripe on his forehead, and muscular arms and chest, but his legs, which stuck out from short cotton trousers, were ridiculously thin. He beat up some frothy liquor in a jug and when he filled the big glasses Lister felt disturbed, for he knew Brown and had noted the quantity of gin the negro used. The captain, however, was cautious and they began to talk. Lister asked Montgomery if he carried on the factory alone.