“You can’t now. The shore is too rocky. You’d pound her hull to pieces. Keep on around the point. The storm won’t break for half an hour yet.”
Rather reluctantly Cora put the wheel over. Yet she recognized the truth of what Jack had said. It would be dangerous to go ashore there. And to turn back was equally out of the question, since the wind was rising. It was at their backs, and to turn in the heavy sea now running might mean an upset. To face the waves, too, would be dangerous. The only chance lay in keeping on.
Jack’s prophecy about the storm was not borne out. With a sudden burst of wind, that whipped the salty spray of the waves over those in both boats, and a sprinkle of rain that soon became a downpour, the tempest broke.
The girls screamed, and tried to get under some bits of canvas that Cora had brought along to cover the engine. But the wind was so strong, and the rain so penetrating that it was of little avail.
“Head her up into the waves!” cried Jack. “Take ’em bow on, Cora!”
“Of course!” she shouted back, and gripped the wheel with tense fingers.
A little later they were out on the heaving ocean. Fortunately the point cut off some of the wind, and, having the gale at their backs helped some. But the two motor craft, separated by some distance now, had no easy time of it.
“Be quiet!” commanded her sister. “Look at Eline!”
Eline was calm–that is, comparatively so.