In spite of all he could do, with only his cap to bail with, the boat was perilously full of water before the great lava precipices of Llao Rock finally towered right above them, and they saw and heard the waves on the stony shore.
“How are we going to land without smashing the boat?” Spider puffed.
“Hang the boat! How are we going to land without smashing our heads?” Bennie answered. “Hold her right inshore, and when I see a place pull for all you’ve got left!”
“Pull!” he yelled a moment later.
Spider drove the boat in. A wave caught it and threw it forward, but the bow drove between two lava fragments which rested half in water, half on shore, and while Bennie grabbed one oar and pushed at the stern, Spider jumped from the bow with the painter in his hand. He landed on a stone at the water’s edge, slipped back above his waist, scrambled out dripping wet, hauled on the painter, and got the bow in close. Bennie got out, and between them they hauled the boat up where the waves couldn’t knock it free, and tipped her over to let the water run out.
Then they both sat down and panted.
“Well, I’d rather be here than out there,” Bennie finally said.
“I don’t mind saying I didn’t know whether we’d ever get here,” Spider answered. “I guess that was a close call, all right. Gee, but my arms ache!”
“Mine don’t—they haven’t any feeling left in ’em,” said Bennie. “Well, what are we going to do now? We can’t stay here all night and freeze to death.”
“I sure am wet and cold,” Spider answered. “And you can’t make a fire out of lava and pumice. Funny thing, not a drop of rain has fallen. Look, there’s the sun again over on the top of Scott.”