"All right!" shouted Peter encouragingly. "I'll round to. Pass an oar through one of the sleeping-bags and weight the lower end of the bag. It will make a sea-anchor and we can ride to that. Call out when you're ready."
Uncle Brian understood. Although not a seaman, he was used to small boat work. He began to prepare the sea-anchor, which when hove overboard would keep the boat's head to wind, act as a floating breakwater, and reduce her drift to a little less than a mile an hour.
Suddenly the boat's stern dipped more than before. A wave broke inboard, sweeping completely over the outboard motor. The engine stopped. Either the water had short-circuited the high-tension wire, or else had found its way into the carburettor.
Immediately, the "orange-box" swung round broadside on to the wind, with the water already up to her crew's knees.
"Be sharp!" cautioned Peter, at the same time grasping a can of lubricating oil, unscrewing the cap, and throwing a quantity of the heavy liquid to wind'ard.
The action of the oil immediately quelled the waves, the boat drifting to lee'ard of a wide and steadily increasing patch of smooth water. But so rapid was her drift that she quickly drove beyond the oil-quelled area, and once more the waves swept over her side. Again Peter attempted to pour oil upon the troubled waters, but the can slipped from his grasp and disappeared overboard.
A moment later, the flat-bottomed craft heeled, recovered herself sluggishly, and slid beneath the waves.