The wind fell lighter, the scud of clouds thinned and broke, and in the dim glimmer of starlight loomed the jungle-clad coast. Ahead, and well on the lee-bow, appeared a jagged rock-point. Both men strained to it.
“Amboy Point,” Griffiths announced. “Plenty of water close up. Take the wheel, Jacobsen, till we set a course. Get a move on!”
Running aft, barefooted and barelegged, the rainwater dripping from his scant clothing, the mate displaced the black at the wheel.
“How's she heading?” Griffiths called.
“South-a-half-west!”
“Let her come up south-by-west! Got it?”
“Right on it!”
Griffiths considered the changed relation of Amboy Point to the Willi-Waw's course.
“And a-half-west!” he cried.
“And a-half-west!” came the answer. “Right on it!”