The boat was riding on her beam ends. White horses breaking over her
bow sent showers of foam her whole length. A sudden squall that nearly
capsized her roused David suddenly to their danger.

"Reef the mains'l!" he shouted.

"Make for the lee of Comfort Island!" sputtered Andy through the
spray, as he and Jamie sprang for the mainsail to reef it.

"Make for un!" echoed Jamie. "'Tis against reason to keep goin'."

The wind shrieked through the rigging. Another great roller all but
swamped them. The sudden fury of the wind, the ever higher-piling
seas, and the rollers that had so nearly overwhelmed the boat brought
to David a full sense of their peril. He had been foolhardy and
headstrong in his determination to continue to Fort Pelican. He
realized this now even more fully than Andy and Jamie.

David was a good seaman and fearless, with a full measure of faith in
his skill. Now that his eyes were open to the peril in which he had
placed them, he knew that all the skill he possessed and perhaps more
would be required to take them safely into shelter.

Comfort Island with its offer of snug harbour lay a half mile to
leeward. David brought the boat before the wind, and headed directly
for the island.

Great breakers, pounding the high, rockbound shores of Comfort Island,
and booming like cannon, threw their spray a hundred feet in the air,
enveloping the island in a cloud of mist.