All hands set to with a will, for even Quexo had recovered his former appetite.
"This storm has lasted longer than usual," remarked Mr. McKay. "It was of more than ordinary severity. Still, I've known similar instances, and within three hours of the height of the hurricane the wind has died away to a flat calm."
"Then we shall be able to take to the boat almost immediately after daylight."
"Is there one left?"
"Two. I think one is stove in, but the other seems sound."
"A long voyage in an open boat on the ocean is no light matter," replied Mr. McKay. "If we were in the latitude of the Trades the task would be easier; but here we are, I imagine, in a zone of calms alternating with violent hurricanes. The best thing we can do is to land on the island—if we are near one, as I firmly believe is the case—and bring ashore as many of the ship's stores as we can. Then, if not sighted by any passing craft, we can set to work and deck in one of the boats, provision her, and shape a course for the nearest trading station. By the time the boat is ready I trust I shall be firmer on my feet."
"Do you hear that, Quexo?" asked Andy. "You may be ashore in a few hours."
Quexo grinned approvingly. He had had enough of the sea.
"Don't build up his hopes too high," continued Mr. McKay. "Even if the weather continues fine, it may be days before we can effect a landing."
"Why?"