The Research stood on for a couple of days more, close-hauled, frequently having to tack to avoid the rocks and reefs to the westward. Without the greatest possible care she might easily have shared the fate of the Champion. As she got to the northward the difficulties of the navigation increased. Dillon, however, proved himself to be an able pilot. He smiled as he saw the pistol which one of the warrant officers held constantly at his head, as if he considered the precaution a very unnecessary one.
“Nobody desires to see the Research safe inside Tiger harbour more eagerly than I do,” he observed. “Should the ship strike on a reef, it will not be my fault.”
“A sail on the weather-bow!” shouted the look-out from aloft.
“What is she like?” asked Mr Foley, who had charge of the watch.
“A small boat or canoe under sail, sir,” was the answer.
Gerald, who was on deck, was sent by Mr Foley with a spy-glass aloft to take a look at the boat. “If she steers as she is now doing she will pass, I take it, a couple of miles from us, sir,” he cried out.
The commander, who just then came on deck, upon hearing this, ordered the ship to be put about to cut off the boat. At the same time the colours were hoisted, so that should the people in the boat be English, they might know that the ship was a friend. A considerable amount of curiosity was excited as to what a small boat could be about in these little-frequented seas, and all the glasses on board were turned towards her. As she had now altered her course and was standing towards the ship, she was rapidly neared, and five people were counted on board her.