The boat came to a stop.
And not a moment too soon. Just ahead was a mighty eminence, and the Dart would certainly have struck it at full speed.
“Golly!” gasped Pomp. “Dat am jes’ de berry closest call I ebber knowed ob!”
“Begorra, a miss is as good as a mile,” said Barney. “Shure, we must go back now.”
“Does yo’ fink yo’ kin fin’ yo’ way back, chile?”
This was quite a problem. The Dart had undoubtedly run many miles, and to find the way back, as no note had been taken of their course was all a matter of chance.
“But fo’ de Lor’ sakes, whatebber struck the boat in de fust place?” asked Pomp. “Howebber did it git started?”
“I’ll show yez,” said Barney.
He led the way to the pilot-house.
Upon the vessel’s bow was a huge specimen of fish. It was a swordfish.