With the suddenness which characterizes tropical storms of certain sorts, less than hurricanes, the wind began to drop, and soon to fall to the steady trade wind velocity, while the clouds broke, the rain squalls ceased, blue sky appeared, and only the lifting heave of the turbulent Caribbean remained of the time of stress. They all breathed a sigh of relief; but the respite was brief.
“We’re closer in than I thought!” shouted Henry, at the wheel. “Quick, somebody, get forward with the lead. Half-speed, Andy! We may be close on a reef!”
Tom flung aside the brace of the after door, and with Nicky at his side, leaped on deck while Mr. Gray closed the door. Bill was already out of the side door to port, while Andy and Cliff stood by their engine.
“Reverse—back water!” cried Henry. “We’ve got to fight her off the shore and stand off and on until we can see what we’re doing.”
At the same minute came an agonized cry from Tom.
“Port—port—hard a-port! Rocks dead ahead!”
Henry flung his weight on the small wheel. Over it swung.
Before their bow, disclosed by an onrushing comber which had obscured them, great black fangs of rock held their bared teeth in readiness to crunch joyously, grimly, as the Porto Bello staggered and strove to claw around!
CHAPTER VI
STRANDED!
Gleaming and flashing like the huge tusks of a water wolf, waiting, submerged, to gnash upon the defenseless cruiser, Tom saw the rocks, great needles of terror, for only an instant. Then a great, great, green-blue wave lifted between his straining eyes and the danger.