While Mr. Murgatroyd was securing photographic records of the stranding of the Olivette, the Scoutmaster took stock of his immediate surroundings.
The boat was hard against a snag, with her bows touching one island. Amidships she bridged the very narrow channel between the two islands through which the current swirled strongly, while aft her starboard quarter was within 6 feet of the second island. She was waterborne aft, since the rudder was quite free, but her bows were a good 18 inches above the normal water-line. In addition she had quite a bad list.
"We're on pretty hard, Peter," declared the Scoutmaster.
"Won't she come off with the engine going full speed astern, sir?" asked the Patrol-leader.
"We can but try—directly Mr. Murgatroyd comes on board," replied Mr. Armitage. "The main trouble is that the level of the river is falling steadily. Since those heavy rains a week ago there's been no rainfall at all. The Olivette may be here for a couple of months."
"Cheerful that," remarked Stratton. "We'll manage it somehow, sir," he added optimistically.
When at length the exuberant Mr. Murgatroyd returned on board, preparations were made to extricate the Olivette from her ignominious position.
The four cylinders were brought into action, and the motor run first at half speed and then full speed astern. Beyond a terrific vibration nothing happened. The boat obstinately refused to leave her unofficial shore-berth.
"Roll her!" ordered the Scoutmaster. "All hands!"
Everyone, except Roche who stood by the engine, ran from side to side, but this expedient proved to be of no avail.