"We'll have to rout him out," decided Captain Bullock. "I'll send my motor-boat. Meanwhile we'll engage natives and start getting the stuff out of the hold. The question is: who am I going to send away with the boat? You'll be on duty on deck, Preston, and Anstey will be tallying in the hold. I've got it. I'll get young Mostyn to go." He went to the end of the bridge and looked down. On the promenade-deck were Peter and Olive watching the dreary harbour. Miss Baird had taken her great disappointment remarkably well. On the principle that there is no time like the present, she refused to dwell upon the prospects of returning home. She would have to, she supposed, in due course; meanwhile she was on board the _West Barbican_ without any immediate chance of returning even as far as Durban. And the longer the voyage the better, she decided. "This doesn't look promising for our sail, Miss Baird," said Peter. "The tide's ebbing like a millrace. Look at those trunks of trees coming down. They'd give a small boat a nasty biff if they fouled her." "And no wind," added the girl. "Mr. Preston was telling me that in the harbours on this coast it blows from the land from sunset till about ten o'clock, and from the sea from a little after sunrise till ten in the morning. Between times it's usually a flat calm." The harbour viewed from within looked far more uninviting than it did from the offing. The ebb was in full swing--a turgid, evil-smelling rush of coffee-coloured water. Already the mud-banks fringing the mangrove-covered islands were uncovering and throwing out a noxious mist under the powerful rays of the tropical sun, which was now almost immediately overhead. Mostyn found himself comparing Bulonga Harbour most unfavourably with the lovely lagoons and coral reefs of the Pacific islands. "It may be better later on in the afternoon," he remarked. "Say an hour before high water. If----" He broke off abruptly, for Captain Bullock was descending the bridge-ladder. "Hello, young lady!" exclaimed the skipper. "What do you say to a run in my launch? I'm sending her up-stream in a few minutes. You'll be snug enough under the double canopy over the stern-sheets." "It ought to be rather exciting, Captain Bullock," replied Olive, glancing at the surging ebb. "It would be very nice to see what it's like." "Right-o!" rejoined the skipper. "Mr. Mostyn, will you take charge of the boat? You seem the best man for the job, considering that it's your father's steelwork we are dealing with. Take this letter to a Senhor Jose Aguilla, who hangs out at a place called Duelha. I'll show you it on a chart. Get him to come down as soon as possible. If he's like the rest of these gentry that will be _manana_. In any case, bring back a written reply to this letter." "Very good, sir."