"It's death, unless we can pull off before they get to us," the captain told them.
By the time he had finished speaking, the fog had entirely shut out the view of the island and one by one the boats began to disappear, as though a curtain had been drawn down in front of them. In less than the time stated by the captain not a boat was to be seen.
"Better try the engine again," Mr. Lakewood suggested.
Captain Ole gave the order, but although the engineer raced the engine to the utmost, it was without effect and he was finally forced to give it up. "There's only one thing to be done," he announced. "We must station ourselves all along the sides of the boat and keep them from getting on. And we don't want to waste any more ammunition," he added grimly.
The crew scattered, to take the designated stations and the boys found themselves to places on the port side and about ten feet apart. Then there was nothing to do but wait. Slowly the minutes passed, and not a sound was to be heard save the soft lap of the water against the sides of the boat. There was no wind and the fog was now so thick that it was with difficulty that they could see each other. They had been cautioned against making any noise, so they did not speak.
"They can't see us any better than we can see them so we'll let them have all the trouble we can in finding us," Captain Ole had said.
"If only a breeze would spring up," Bob thought as he tried to pierce the dense fog and strained his ears to catch the faintest sound of an approaching enemy. On the other side of him he knew that Pat Barney was stationed, but he was unable to see him. The captain had ordered them to expose as little of their bodies above the railing as possible for fear that one of the poisoned darts might find a mark. "They can shoot the blamed things a good deal farther than you'd think, and they usually hit what they shoot at," he had told them.
It seemed to the boy that an hour must have passed, although a glance at his watch told him that it had really been but fifteen minutes since he had taken his post, when a sound reached his ears, from out of the gloom, which made every nerve tingle. It was, he knew, the soft dip of a paddle handled by one who knew how to dip his paddle and lift it with the minimum amount of sound. He knew the boat could not be more than twenty or thirty feet away and, as Captain Ole had ordered them to shoot at the first indication of the proximity of one of the boats, he pointed his revolver toward the sound and fired.
"Reckon I didn't hit anything but water," he thought as no commotion followed the shot.
But an instant later a quick gasp, coming from his right, sent a note of fear through his heart.