“Now,” continued Jack, when this had been accomplished, “start your engine slowly and we’ll try and beach her over yonder. By the greatest of good luck there’s a small patch of ground in sight, different from these mud banks. Ready, George?”
“Yes,” came the reply.
“Then go ahead!”
Jack held back until he heard the puttering of the Wireless exhaust; then he also started his engine, and the three boats moved slowly and majestically off, the Comfort looking, as Josh expressed it, like a wounded duck sustained by the wings of two companions.
Those aboard the sinking craft had to keep up their work in a frantic manner, if they did not want the boat to go down under them in midstream. Now and then one would make a bad shot, and spill the contents of bucket or basin over the forms of his fellow laborers. But although this might have seemed comical to Nick or Josh or Jimmy at another time, they failed to laugh now, even when struck full in the face by a deluge, and half choked.
Fortunately the other island, where the little patch of rising ground had been discovered by Jack, was close at hand, so that in less than ten minutes they had arrived as near as they dared go.
“Now, I’m going to break loose and get behind,” said Jack. “If I can shove her further in, it’ll be all right, for then she won’t sink any lower. In the morning we can get the block and tackle, and drag her out on skids.”
The workers were encouraged to keep at it furiously for another minute or two, while the Tramp did the shoving part. Knowing just how to go about it, Jack made a success of his part of the business.
“Hurrah!” gasped Nick, when the keel grated on the bottom, and the weary water-casters could rest from their labors.
But there was a lot more to do. The bedding and stores that were aboard had to be rescued, and placed where they might have a chance to dry. It took some little time to get all the stuff out; and then Jack had another idea.