“Nothing,” responded Frank, as agitated as the younger boy; “if their boat cannot weather that wave nothing can save them.”
The sea in the immediate vicinity of the island began to heave in heavy shouldering swells as the Black Squall advanced and the wave grew nearer and even more menacing as its distance from them decreased. It was apparent that far back as even the canoes were hauled, they would have to be hauled further inland if they were to escape damage. This work was at once set about and the canoes dragged fully a hundred yards from the beach.
“The wave will be all bust up by the mangroves and they’ll not get much more than a wetting up here,” remarked Ben.
This work done, Frank suggested that they climb into the branches of a wide-spreading guava tree so as to be out of harm’s way and also be able to watch the motor-boat’s fight for life.
“We might see a chance to help the poor fellows,” he said.
The moonshiners, with impassive faces, followed the adventurers’ example and soon all of them were roosting in the trees. Hardly had they settled when the mighty wave towered within a few hundred yards of the black motor-boat.
The occupants seemed to have lost their heads completely at the imminence of the danger and were not even attempting to do anything to relieve the situation. The man who owed his life to the boys stood erect in the stern and with his arms folded gazed at the advancing doom. The other was groveling in terror on the boat’s thwarts. Suddenly they saw the man in the stern spring to the engine and crank the machine desperately. The boat began to move rapidly through the swells, tossing their heads in spray over her sharp bow.
“She’s going to race it,” amazedly exclaimed Harry.
“There’s not a chance,” cried Frank, as the boat gathered speed and fled like some frightened creature before the pursuing peril. She fairly leaped through the water like a live thing. With parted lips and throbbing pulses the boys watched the beginning of the unequal struggle. Gamely as the helmsman guided the flying craft over the swells the great wave gained on him. The man who had been groveling in the boat in sheer terror was now on his feet. He hung onto the stern coaming and gazed back as if fascinated with awe at the pursuing Nemesis. The man in the bow never turned his head; he gazed straight forward.
Suddenly a cry that even the boys could hear broke from the lips of the man in the stern.