"I vas dickled pecause Matt is alife und kicking. Dot inshpires me mit batriotic sendiment, und odder feelings oof choy. Be jeerful, eferypody."
Weighing the evidence offered by the torpedo attack, and the snaring and dragging of Matt into the water, had not resulted in bringing out very much that was of importance. It served, however, to emphasize the need of vigilance by developing the resourcefulness and malevolence of a wily foe.
At 4 a. m. the submarine was close to the land lying south of the Bay of Lota, and, as the mist was still too thick to make out the distance and bearing of the coast, Matt thought it advisable to stop the motor and wait for the fog to clear with the sun.
Advantage was taken of this stop to prepare breakfast. While all hands were eating, Gaines and Clackett, who had been at their posts during the exciting occurrences of the night, were duly informed of all that had taken place.
At 6 a. m. the morning was bright enough so that Matt felt they could proceed with safety.
The passage into the Bay of Lota, between the island of Santa Maria and Lavapié Point, is narrow and difficult, abounding with sunken rocks and other hidden dangers that have not been surveyed and charted.
Luck, however, was with the motor boys, and the passage into the bay was succesfully accomplished. Just as the sun broke through the mist and brought out the beauties of the bay, the Grampus nosed her way into it.
On three sides the bay is surrounded by wooded hills, which shelter it in every direction except on the north.
"Dowse me," muttered Dick; "this coast looks like that of Cornwall and Devonshire, with that red earth, those granite cliffs, and the trees running down to the water's edge. What are those chimneys and all that smoke over there?"
"Smelting works and potteries," explained Glennie. "They are owned by a woman, Madam Cousiño, one of the richest women in Chili."