Followed a dubious five minutes during which the only sounds that reached them from outside the boat were distant fog signals and, once, the unmistakable moo of a cow!
"Gee," murmured Perry, "that's the best thing I've heard all day! That means we really are in the harbour, doesn't it?"
"Might be a sea-cow," suggested Ossie, from the companion.
"Ready with the bow anchor!" called Steve.
Han scuttled forward into the mist. "All right, sir!" he announced in his best nautical manner.
Steve disengaged the clutch. There was a moment of silence aboard the Adventurer. Then: "Over with it, Han," directed Steve. There was a splash, followed by the rasping of the cable through the chock and then a cheerful whistle from the crew as he made fast. "About eighteen feet, Steve, I should say," he called.
"Sixteen," corrected the Captain gravely. Joe smiled.
"Mean it?" he asked.
Steve nodded and put a finger on the chart. "We're right here," he said. Then he covered the compass and drew down the lid of the chart box and stretched his arms luxuriously. "That's over with," he added, "and I'm glad of it! How about dinner, Ossie?"
"On the fire, Cap! Ready in five minutes."