Another three days passed, and they seemed as far off their journey's end as ever, until next morning one of the men shouted out that there was a signal on a promontory jutting out into the sea.
They rushed to the fore part of the schooner, and looked eagerly at the spot. The man was right; there was a long pole with something waving at the top, evidently a signal to passing vessels.
"It may be a very old one," said Phil.
"Perhaps it is Jacob Rank's signal," replied Jack.
"Let us hope so; anyway, we will make for it. I wonder if they have seen it on board the 'Wild Cat?'"
The other schooner was some distance behind, and as Jack looked through his glasses he saw no sign of excitement on board.
"I do not think they have," he said, "but in any case they will follow in our track."
The "Heron" headed for the rock on which the signal was fixed, and as they drew near it they saw it was a projection of one side of the heads of a bay.
Their spirits rose, and Phil said—
"It's Jacob's Bay, I'll wager. It answers the description exactly. Look there; the rock jutting out bare and jagged, the other side of the channel wooded and sloping gradually down. The entrance narrow, the scene from the ocean exactly as he described it. Here we are at last, boys. Give a rousing cheer; let off a few guns, and if Rank is alive that will bring him out of his shell."