"It should be," was the response. "But I'll take an observation and make sure."
The observation confirmed their belief that they were at last in sight of their goal.
"We are now in latitude eight degrees south and longitude one hundred and forty degrees west. Boys, this is a fine land fall," exclaimed the captain enthusiastically. "In all my years at sea I never made a better."
In the midst of the general rejoicing, they none of them noticed that Sam Hinckley alone looked troubled. The sight of the distant land seemed to agitate him strangely. Was it because he had been there before at some period of his life and held no pleasant recollections of it? We shall find out before long.
In the meantime, we must explain the reason for the "Nomad's" slow passage to the vicinity of the islands. In the first place at Honolulu, where they had been compelled to put in for provisions and fresh water, they had been held in quarantine for some time, owing to a plague scare.
The delay was the doubly aggravating because they knew that all the time they were held there the schooner "Nettie Nelsen"—a fast sailer, as we know—was hastening at top speed for the islands. She, too, they heard, had put in at the Hawaiian port and provisioned and watered, but had gotten away again before the plague scare.
Other delays, caused by the manner in which the kerosene carbonated the motor, had delayed the "Nomad" also. So much so, in fact, that the burning question with those on board her was: Would they be too late for the smart, two-masted craft they were in search of?
There was no reason to suppose that, guessing he would be pursued, Colonel Morello would elect to linger long at the islands. In fact, after disposing of the schooner, the rascally crew would probably split up and by devious routes make for Australia. If this had occurred before they arrived at Ohdahmi, all the Motor Rangers' high hopes were doomed to be blasted.
It was sundown when the "Nomad" at length dropped anchor in a small, glassy bay off the island which they believed to be Ohdahmi. It was a small spot of land, apparently, rising to a high peak in the center. The sides of this mountain, and, in fact, the whole island, so far as they could see, were clothed in vivid, tropical greenery, forming a sharp contrast to the dull gray of the volcanic rock composing the land.
The bay in which the "Nomad" was anchored was almost landlocked. Opposite to her a great cliff shot up with a perfect cascade of tropical plants falling down its face, at one point, in regular festoons. As their anchor chain rattled out, clouds of birds flew up from the jungle and, after flying about for a time with harsh screams, settled down again for the night.