Reflected from Manana, a single gleam of light gave him further warning. The shoals were just before him. The waves there were breaking mountain high. Turning his boat squarely about, he set his engine to doing its best and trusted himself to the trough of a wave. Instantly there came a drenching crash of cold black water.
He clung desperately to his course. Any moment the engine, deluged by a greater sea, might go dead. Then would come the end.
“But there’s no other way.” He set his teeth hard.
Once more he caught the moving gleam across the sky. That gleam saved him. He held to a course perpendicular to its line of motion as long as he dared. Then, swinging through a quarter circle he shot straight ahead. Five minutes later, drenched to the skin, panting from excitement and well nigh exhausted, but now quite safe, he ran his boat alongside a punt where a yellow light gleamed.
“Hello!” said a voice. A lantern held high revealed a boyish face. “Pretty lucky you got in. Nasty night. Some blow!” said the boy.
“Wouldn’t have made it,” said Don, “only I caught the gleam on the crest of Manana. It guided me in.”
“Tie up,” invited the boy. “I’ll take you ashore in my punt.”
“What you got there?” he asked in a surprised tone as the light of his lantern fell upon the crate.
“Lobsters,” said Don.
“Lobsters?” The boy let out a whistle of surprise. “Where’d you get ’em?”