The Captain of the Kansas - Page 159/174

Gray listened to the girl's cool statement with growing admiration.

The plan began to look feasible. It came within the bounds of reason.

The odds were against it, of course, but the law of probability is

seldom in favor of a forlorn hope. Suarez, too, making the best of a

situation which gave him no option, agreed that they had a fair chance

if once they got hold of the canoes. Nevertheless, he warned them that

he knew nothing of the surroundings of Guanaco Hill. He believed there

were no reefs on that side of the inlet, but he had never visited it.

Their greatest peril lay amid the almost impenetrable trees which grew

down to the water's edge. On his advice, Gray unshipped the mast and

threw it overboard. Then silence became imperative. If aught were

said, they must speak in the merest whisper.

The canoe darted forward again with stealthy haste. The night was

clear, though dark. The stars helped them to distinguish the outlines

of the shore now coming rapidly nearer. As they crept round the

southern cheek of Point Kansas, the Argentine ceased paddling, and

placed a warning hand on Gray's arm. The cliff was so high and steep

that its shadow plunged into deepest gloom the water at its base.

Suarez, however, had imbibed a good deal of savage lore during his

enforced residence on the island. He stretched well forward over the

bows, held a paddle as far in front as possible, and thus not only

guided the drifting canoe by an occasional dip of the blade, but

trusted to it for warning of any unseen rock.

There was a cold breeze on the surface of the bay, but the dog was the

only one who shivered, and his tremors arose from excitement. At last

they felt a slight bump. The Argentine had found the reef he was

searching for; by watching a star it was easy enough to follow the

southerly bend taken by the canoe in skirting this barrier, while their

ears caught the murmur of the swift current amid the numerous tiny

channels of the rocks. Suddenly this swirl and hum of fast-flowing

water ceased. Elsie and Gray became aware that Suarez was cautiously

drawing himself inboard again. Then his paddle dipped with a noiseless

stroke; the canoe was inside the Alaculof harbor.

The midnight blackness was now something that had a sense of actual

obstruction in it. It seemed that a hand put forth would encounter a

wall. The tide was here, but no perceptible current. For all they

could tell to the contrary, they might have been floating in Charon's

boat across some Stygian pool.

For a minute or two, Elsie's brave heart failed her. Here was a

difficulty which desperate courage could not surmount. There might be

dozens of canoes moored on all sides, but to discover them in this

pitch darkness was so obviously impossible that she almost made up her

mind to abandon this part of her enterprise. Yet the narrow-beamed

Fuegian craft she was in would hold only four more occupants, and that

with a certain risk and unwieldiness. She was as determined as ever to

cross the bay and endeavor to communicate with the imprisoned men. But

she recognized the absurdity of the thought that Courtenay and

Tollemache would consent to escape in the canoe and leave the others to

their fate, even if such a thing were practicable. Oddly enough, the

one person whose daring might reasonably be suspected, gave no signs of

the pangs of doubt. Suarez pushed forward resolutely. He knew what

Elsie had forgotten--that in each canoe used by the Indians there was a

carefully preserved fire, whose charcoal embers retained some heat and

glow all night. The first intimation of this fact was revealed by the

pungent fumes which environed them. Elsie could not help uttering a

little gasp of relief. There was a slight movement in front. Gray

leaned back and touched her hand.