“By the holy poker! That’s so,” exclaimed Ned, “I guess we’d better turn back and make our advance by land.”
“Here’s Captain Andrews now,” struck in Tom, as the skipper of the Sea King came on deck, hastily adjusting his white pith helmet.
There was no need to tell that veteran seaman what had happened. He took in the situation at a glance.
“It would have been funny if we hadn’t run up against something like this,” he remarked, almost in Jack’s words.
“The point is,—what now?” said Tom.
Captain Andrews agreed with Jack that it would be a foolish risk to land and try to remove the chain.
“I’ve quite a notion that there are some rifles in that brush, all ready for use in case we try to proceed,” he said reflectively, “my advice is to drop back down stream and hold a council of war.”
All agreed that this did seem about the only thing to do under the circumstances, and accordingly Tom handed the wheel over to the sailor while he went below to “stand by” the engines.
In that muddy stream, with its sand banks and shoals, the maneuver they were going to try would call for some delicate seamanship and swift handling of the motor.
Captain Andrews, with his lips grimly compressed, grasped the wheel and sounded a signal. Slowly the Vagrant, which had been “hanging” motionless, began to drop back with the current.