"Hurrah! She's lifting!" shouted Ellerton, and allowing sufficient time for the yawl to be lifted clear of the bottom, Mr. McKay and his assistants began to haul on an anchor cable which had been previously laid towards the shore.
Slowly the ungainly pontoon with its heavy burden began to move shorewards, when suddenly the bows of the canoes rose high in the air, throwing their occupants on their backs. One of the hawsers had slipped, and the work of six long hours was wasted.
"Hard lines!" exclaimed Terence dolefully.
"It is, I admit," replied Ellerton cheerfully. "Still, we must not expect to have everything our own way. Try, try, try again, as the old saw says."
"We can do no more to-day," said Mr. McKay. "We'll leave the canoes moored to the yawl, however. That will save time to-morrow."
"I think, if you don't mind, sir, we'll try and slip the sling under her again," said Ellerton. "You see, if we do that there won't be so much chance of the canoes drifting and consequently slipping the other sling."
"Quite so," replied Mr. McKay. "It may save us some hours of hard work."
So directly the water cleared, for the settling of the wrecked boat had churned up the sand till she was practically invisible, the chain sling was again placed in position.
This time this part of the business was done more satisfactorily, as the yawl was resting on a hummock of shell and sand amidships, so that above five feet of the after part of her keel was clear of the bed of the lagoon.
"I hope it doesn't come on to blow to-night," remarked Ellerton, as the party rowed ashore. "If it does, then good-bye to the yawl."