LOST ISLAND
rose, but there was far too much light to please Dave and Tempest, who would have liked a coal-black night for such work as they had on hand. Trusting to memory to avoid the dangerous patch of rocks through which they had threaded their way earlier in the day, they made a wide detour, and then headed straight for the surf. The thunderous roar of it reached them when they were still a quarter of a mile off.
"That sounds lively, does n't it?" Dave commented. "There's no earthly hope of making the beach in that without smashing the Nautilus up and probably ourselves too."
"Jim," said Tempest, "you can see like a cat in the dark. Can you tell us how we 're going to get ashore?"
The Kanaka shook his head. That was a problem beyond him.
"Maybe p'raps there's a li'le cove somewhere along here," he suggested. "Try bit furth'r down."
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