"Be sharp!" cautioned Peter, at the same time grasping a can of lubricating oil, unscrewing the cap, and throwing a quantity of the heavy liquid to wind'ard. The action of the oil immediately quelled the waves, the boat drifting to lee'ard of a wide and steadily increasing patch of smooth water. But so rapid was her drift that she quickly drove beyond the oil-quelled area, and once more the waves swept over her side. Again Peter attempted to pour oil upon the troubled waters, but the can slipped from his grasp and disappeared overboard. A moment later, the flat-bottomed craft heeled, recovered herself sluggishly, and slid beneath the waves. CHAPTER XIII Wrecked The shock of being immersed feet foremost in the water, coupled with the fact that the night was pitch-black, was quickly followed by a quite unexpected discovery. The boat had foundered, but a heavy jar proclaimed the fact that she had "struck soundings" in about three feet of water. Her crew found themselves standing waist-deep upon the quivering boat as the bottom boards writhed under their feet in an attempt to float to the surface--a feat that had been successfully performed by most of the buoyant gear in the boat. For some moments neither Peter nor his uncle could grasp the situation, until Brian Strong shouted: "We're close to shore; come on, Peter." "Don't move!" bawled Peter, for conversation at an ordinary pitch would be inaudible owing to the shriek of the wind. "Don't move. We may be on a sandbank with deep water all around." Uncle Brian saw the force of this assertion. It would be a fool's trick to attempt to swim, since all sense of direction was lost, and they were still ignorant of how far it was to the nearest land. Visions of caymans, deadly eels, and other undesirable denizens of these waters also served as a deterrent, although, standing waist-deep, the two men were not less liable to attack than had they been striking out for the shore. "I'm not at all keen on standing here till daybreak," remarked Uncle Brian at length. "It's too jolly moist," he added, with a brave attempt at making light of the situation. "I'll tell you what I'll do," decided Peter. "There's a coil of rope under the fore-deck. Pass it aft and I'll secure one end round my waist. Then I'll go on a voyage of exploration. If the water gets deeper I'll come back. If it shelves, we'll move along till we find a better 'ole." "Better hump, you mean," corrected Brian Strong. "All right, here's the line. I'll pay out as you go. There ought to be thirty fathoms of it at least." Having made his preparations, Peter stepped off. The ground was quite hard under his feet and clear of weeds. Nevertheless, he proceeded cautiously, having in mind the possibility of encountering a cayman or other ferocious inhabitant of the lake.