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Updated: June 6, 2025
Grimly he did, to begin a struggle which was to take on all the more horrible properties of a nightmare. For this was many times worse than his fight against the swamp-stream. Twice the engine sputtered protestingly and Val thought of trying to leap ashore. But stubbornly the outboard fought on.
We picked up a shell which went off inside our outboard engine. It started rolling smoke but no flames. Then a shell smashed the intercom system and communications went dead." Allison bit down hard on his pipe. "Must have been tough," Stan said. "We couldn't hold our altitude. We lost about a thousand feet a minute and nothing the copilot and I could do would hold her up."
So, by example and tongue, Captain Kettle got his boats swung outboard, and the Flamingo, with her engines working at an unusual strain, surged rapidly nearer and nearer to the blaze. On shore a house on fire at any hour draws a crowd. At sea, in the bleak cold wastes of the water desert, even one other shipload of sympathizers is too often wished for vainly.
It was hard for Rick to see ahead because of the turns, and Scotty served as his eyes, motioning from one side to the other as the channel shifted. Rick wondered if the sound of the outboard motor could be heard at the mansion, and decided it probably could not. The heavy marsh grass was a good sound baffle and the motor was relatively quiet. He leaned out, trying to see ahead.
They twitched, as a dry cackle of laughter broke out. "Kut Sing, ahoy!" shouted Heywood. "On deck! Kneebone!" The shoes whipped inboard. Outboard popped a ruddy little face, set in the green circle of a topi, and contorted with laughter. "Listen to this, will ye!" cried the apparition, as though illustrating a point.
As I glanced outboard my attention was instantly arrested by the short, choppy tumble of the water, and its colour, which was a pale, chalky blue. "Why, Polson," I exclaimed, "what has happened to the sea during the night? Look at the colour of it! And hark! surely that cannot be the sound of broken water?" "So you've catched it, Mr Troubridge, have ye, sir?" the man replied.
Between you an' me an' Frankie, we are the Gnome, now in the Fleet Reserve at Pompey Portsmouth, I should say." "The first sea will carry it all away," said Moorshed, leaning gloomily outboard, "but it will do for the present." "We've a lot of prima facie evidence about us," Mr. Pyecroft went on. "A first-class torpedo boat sits lower in the water than a destroyer.
The shrouds of the after masts were generally set up within the bulwarks. On each mast, just above the lower yard, yet below the masthead, was a fighting-top built of elm wood and gilded over. It was a little platform, resting on battens, and in ancient times it was circular, with a diameter of perhaps six or seven feet. It had a parapet round it, inclining outboard, perhaps four feet in height.
Which left only one thing for Val to do. "I'll get the chest, Jeems. Let me have your key to the cabin. I'll take the outboard motor and be back before I'm missed." "Yo' don't know the swamp " "I know how to find the cabin. Where's the key?" "In theah," he pointed to the highboy. Val's fingers closed about the bit of metal. "Mistuh," Jeems straightened, "Ah won't forgit this."
Quickly and without confusion, amid cries of Women and children first! the passengers filed to their allotted places. The crew and officers were all at their stations. Gissing knocked at Captain Scottie's cabin. "We are taking to the boats," he said. "Goad!" cried the skipper. "Wull it be a colleesion?" "All's clear and the davits are outboard," said Gissing.
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