Truly the earthquake had wrought wonders, and in some ways had benefited us. The most startling change was the destruction of the reefs, leaving the sea free before us. The boats filled with warriors, placed to guard us from escaping, had been swallowed up with the reefs, and no vestige of that formidable array remained except a few fragments of the canoes which washed ashore. Perhaps inspired by a common hope we all descended the ladders to the ground. There we were better able to appreciate all that had happened. Except that the sky was still gray and forbidding, we now had plenty of light to examine our surroundings clearly. One glance at the _Seagull_ dispelled our half formed hopes. Although her keel was now on a level with the ocean, which even lapped her bow, the ship was wedged fast between the two huge rocks. These must have separated during the earthquake and allowed her to settle down into her present position; but they still held her as in a vise. “If another quake comes, which ain’t unlikely,” observed Uncle Naboth, “them rocks is liable to come together again, in which case they’d crack the _Seagull’s_ sides like a nut in the jaws of a nutcracker.” It was quite possible, and the statement did not reassure us in the least. “If we could but manage to launch her,” said Alfonso, “we have now plenty of deep water for her to slide into.” My uncle looked at the young Colombian reproachfully. “Them ‘ifs’ seem to excuse a lot of fool remarks,” he said. “The only way to launch the _Seagull_ would be with dynamite, and after that she wouldn’t be likely to float.” It was now the middle of the afternoon, and although the sky continued gloomy there was no air stirring and I dared not wait longer if I meant to rescue Joe. I was very uneasy about my old chum, for the earthquake was likely to have created as much havoc at the Pearl City as it had at this end of the island. My father had gone into the hold with the carpenter and Ned to examine the condition of the ship. The little damage we had sustained from the typhoon which had tossed the ship to her elevated perch had already been repaired—quite foolishly we thought. But the _Seagull_ was still dear to the heart of Captain Steele, and he took as much care of her now that she was useless as when she was proudly riding the waves. “What’s the programme?” asked Uncle Naboth, as I prepared to start. “I’m going to try to get to the city and find Joe. If possible I’ll get him aboard and fetch him back with me. That’s as far as I can plan now, Uncle.” “You won’t be foolhardy?” “I’ll try not to be.” Then I took my seat, Lucia started the motors, and a moment later I was flying over the forest. CHAPTER XVIII A RUN FOR LIFE