Along the coast Tom and Nicky could see low, sandy stretches of beach, under the broil of the sun, now full out and very hot; beyond the wide strips of sand there were dense, tangled masses of jungle, and even in the cleared air after the storm they could scent that queer, fetid odor of decaying vegetation and mold which is characteristic of the tropics. Far in the distance, landward, back of sand and jungle, bluish mountains loomed.
“Where are we heading for?” Nicky wondered, and Tom shook his head. “I hope Henry knows,” he replied. “I don’t see any opening.”
Nor, at the moment, did Henry, who, thoroughly subdued, but with a remnant of his former manhood forcing him to steel his nerves to save his own precious life, and theirs, came forward and stood, eyes roving the shore and the waters.
“What are those big waves?” Nicky asked, pointing shoreward.
“Shifting sand banks,” Henry replied huskily. “They always change. If we once get aground there, the waves would pound the boat to a pulp! And—the—” He felt a kick from Tom, and, with a glance of surprise, saw Tom’s eyes warning him not to frighten Nicky.
Tom, himself no coward, had sometimes yielded to a nameless dread of things unseen, but any visible danger tightened his muscles to their athletic perfection, settled his nerves and steadied his whole body to its dominating mind’s demands. He knew Nicky was not a coward, but he also knew that for anybody’s mind to settle on fear and think about it and worry about it, made them helpless when the need for action came.
For once Henry took a hint.
Cliff, with the tense moment at the engines over, came on deck and joined his chums for a breath of the heated, but fresher air.
“Those are shifting sandbanks,” Tom explained, pointing. “We are hunting for the channel.”
“There’s Brower’s Inlet, that place inshore,” Henry said. “Now, form a line to pass word quick to Bill how to steer, and you, Cliff, be by the engine room port to call directions—we’ll try for the shore—but I don’t guarantee—” Tom kicked his shins again and Henry, scowling, became still and intent.