"Oh, why don't they go back to the yacht and signal to 'em to get under weigh and go out in chase of us--cut us off on the other side?" "But where is the yacht, Ned?" cried Jack. "She may be the other way." "Ah, that's what we don't know, sir. There, we can't do anything but sit fast. You get your arm over that side, I'll hold on this." There was little talking now, the two prisoners' attention being turned to the reef in front, which the paddlers were now straining every nerve to reach at full speed. Suddenly a couple of the blacks sprung up, came aft past where Jack and Ned sat, and thrust a long paddle over the stern to help in the steering, which so far had been managed by the paddlers themselves, one side easing when it was necessary. The two men said something as they passed, but took no more notice of them, and after looking sharply ahead for a few moments, Jack turned to gaze at the pursuing boat, coming on steadily now. But the next minute it looked dim, then it died out of sight, for the canoe had entered into the mist of fine spray raised by the billows on the reef, and directly after they were in a thick fog, as they rushed into the tremendous race of waters leaping and surging about them. The long canoe quivered, the men behind them yelled, and were answered by a fierce shout as the crew frantically plunged their paddles into the yielding foam water, while the spray blinded, the canoe bumped again and again, and then all at once began to rise, till she seemed as if she were going to fall backward prow over stern. "It's all over with us," thought Jack; but the next moment she began to sink toward the horizontal, hung for a second or two level, and then glided down after a tremendous pitch, rose again, and then began to race along on the top of a huge billow which foamed and raved hungrily by their side. This was repeated again and again, but the canoe shipped very little water, and before Jack could realise that they were in safety, the wild excitement and confusion of the tumbling water was at an end, and they were being paddled away out to the open sea in the fast-coming transparent darkness of the brief evening, with a wall of white waters behind. CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. A STERN CHASE--VERY. "Ah!" ejaculated Ned, as he sat wiping the salt spray out of his eyes; "can't say as I should like to go through that again, Mr Jack, but now we have done it I like it. My word, how I can brag now to our chaps on board!" "Do you think they will try and follow us, Ned?" panted Jack, who spoke as if he had been running hard. "Surely not, sir. Never be so mad." "But I'm afraid they will. My father would never sit there and make no effort to save us." Ned was silent for some minutes, and the foam of the breakers on the reef began to soften as the blacks paddled hard straight out to sea.