CHAPTER VI.
CAPTURED BY SAVAGES.
"She's all out and still banging."
It was after supper and then the sun had sunk, a huge red ball of fire, below the western horizon. Captain Ole made the announcement as the boys and their uncle, together with three or four of the sailors, stood watching the big chain run out.
"Then I reckon we'll have to let her drift," Mr. Lakewood said as the captain gave the signal to raise the anchor. "I don't really think that we're anywhere near the place yet," he whispered to Bob, who was standing close at his side, "but we don't want to take any chances. There's so little wind that we won't go far."
"Well, guess we might's well go in and send a picture to the folks at home," Jack said as the anchor appeared.
Every night they had turned on the machine for a few minutes but, to their great disappointment, they had failed to receive any results from far away Maine.
"Not time for more'n an hour yet," Bob said looking at his watch.
Some time in the night Jack awoke. This was such an unusual occurrence that for some moments he lay awake and wondered what had disturbed him. He could not hear a sound save the gentle lap of the water against the side of the boat and the regular breathing of his brother. And yet he knew that something was wrong. He reached beneath his pillow and brought out his tiny flashlight and a glance at his watch told him than it was twenty-five minutes past one.
"Guess I'm getting the heebie-jeebies," he thought as he slipped from his bunk and, in his bare feet, stole toward the door.