The light remained stationary.
“Give way,” he again whispered. The men plied paddles as before. They had got some way further down, when they were startled by hearing a man shout, “Who goes there?”
They all remained perfectly silent and motionless. Just then the noise of the surf on the shore reached their ears, and they knew that they must be close to the entrance.
The man did not repeat his question for nearly a minute. As soon as he again began to speak, Owen told Dan and Tim to paddle away. He and Pompey did so likewise, and the canoe glided forward at a far more rapid rate than before. A shot was heard, but the bullet came nowhere near them. It was evident they could not be seen by the guard. The channel now widened out considerably, and they could distinguish the open sea beyond; they made towards it. There was but little or no surf on the bar, and they crossed without shipping a drop of water.
Owen had made up his mind to steer to the southward till they should sight Cuba. He felt sure that the pirate island was one of those which exist close to the Bahama Bank. Owen steered by the stars. His crew plied their paddles all night, the wind being too light to make it worth while to set the sail, and they hoped to be far out of sight of the island by daybreak. They were not without fear, however, that they might be pursued. The man who had fired at them would suppose that they were fugitives.
“Ill luck to the spalpeens who may be sent in chase after us!” observed Dan, showing what he was thinking about.
“Me no tink dat any boat come off after us,” said Pompey, “’cos ebery man who can pull an oar is on board Ouzel Galley, so we safe as to dat.”
The black’s remark was cheering to Owen, who had hitherto thought it very probable that they would be pursued. Mammy, who as yet had not uttered a word, corroborated her son’s statement.
When morning broke the island could scarcely be seen astern, nor was any land in sight ahead. The sea was perfectly calm; the sky overhead undimmed by a cloud. Owen looked round; no sail was visible in any direction. All they could do was to paddle on, in the hope that a favourable breeze would spring up to carry them on their course, when two at a time might get some sleep. The weather looked perfectly settled, and, though the canoe was somewhat deeply laden, Owen felt confident that she would be able to go through any sea which was likely to get up. His chief anxiety arose from the possibility there was of falling in with the Ouzel Galley. Should they do so, they could scarcely expect any mercy from the pirates. He, of course, intended to do his best to keep clear of her. This he trusted that he might easily do, as the canoe, being low in the water, was not likely to be attract the attention of those on board the ship, while she could be seen in time to be avoided.
A breeze came at last; the sail was hoisted, and the canoe ran merrily before it. Dan begged that he might take the steering paddle, and that the captain would lie down and get some rest, which Owen was glad to obtain, as he intended to steer during the night. The sun was setting when he awoke, and after some supper was served out he resumed the steering paddle, and told Dan and Pompey, who had hitherto been keeping watch, to turn in. Notwithstanding the sleep he had obtained, towards morning he began to feel very drowsy; still his eye was fixed on the star by which he was directing the course of the canoe.