"There's a turtle just ahead, sir," said Smith, from the bows.

"A turtle?--a dove!" cried Oliver. "Perhaps it was that."

"I meant a turtle souper, sir," said Smith, with a grin. Then to the mate, "If you'll steer for her, sir, I'll try and catch her, she's asleep in the sunshine."

They all looked to where the olive green hued sh.e.l.l of the floating reptile could be seen, and with two of the men dipping their oars gently to keep the boat in motion, and Mr Rimmer steering, they softly approached, while Smith leaned over the gunwale with his sleeves rolled up over his brawny arms ready to get hold of one of the flippers.

"Hadn't you better try a boat-hook?" said Oliver, softly.

"Too late; let him try his own way, sir," whispered the mate. "Turn it over if you can, Smith."

The man dared not answer, but leaned out as far as he could, anchoring himself by pa.s.sing one leg under the thwart as they went on nearer and nearer, every eye strained, lips parted, and a feeling of natural history or cooking interest animating the different b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Got her!" cried Smith, suddenly, as he made a quick dip down and seized one of the turtle's flippers with both hands. "Hi! one on yer. Help!"

Wriggs made a s.n.a.t.c.h at and caught the man's leg, as there was a sudden tug and jerk, a tremendous splash, and then, as the boat rocked, Smith's leg was dragged from its holding and he disappeared beneath the surface.

"Gone!" cried Wriggs, "and I did git tight hold on him, too."

"Pull!" shouted the mate, and as the oars dipped sharply the boat followed a little wave of water, which ran along in front, and out of which Smith's head suddenly appeared, and directly after his bands grasped the gunwale of the boat.

"Where's the turtle?" cried Oliver, laughing.

"I did get a hold on her, sir," panted Smith; "but she went off like a steamer, and dragged me underneath. Ah! there she goes," he continued, as he looked toward where the little wave showed that the turtle was swimming rapidly through the troubled water.

"Here, quick, in with you!" cried Oliver, excitedly, as Smith made a jump and climbed--or rather tumbled in--over the side, and none too soon, for the back fin of a shark suddenly appeared a few yards away, and as the man slowly subsided into the boat there was a gleam of creamy white in the water, and a dull thud up against the bows.

"The brute!" cried the mate, as the shark glided out of sight, and then displayed its back fin again above water. "A warning that against bathing."

"Yes, and a very narrow escape!" cried Panton.

"Sarves me right, sir," said Smith, standing up in the bows to wring himself as much as he could without stripping. "Comes o' trying to make turtle soup of t'other thing."

"Pull away, my lads," said the mate, smiling.

"If it's all the same to you, sir," said Wriggs, "mightn't us try and ketch that Jack shark for trying to kill our mate?"

"Oh, yes! if you can do so, by all means; but not to-day. Now, gentlemen, look just ahead. What do you say to that?"

"It's where the mist bank runs into the sea," cried Lane, excitedly; for there, to their right, the vapour rose up among the cocoa-nut trees which just there seemed to be half dead, while all around the boat the clear water was in a state of ebullition, tiny globules of gas running up from below, and breaking on the surface.

"Runs right away to the reef," cried Panton.

"Ay, sir, and perhaps far enough beyond," said the mate. "Pull hard, my lads, and let's get through."

"The coral seems to be all dead," said Drew, "and there are no weeds."

"Not a sign of fish either," said Lane, whose face was over the side.

"Plenty of great clam sh.e.l.ls, but they are gaping open, and the occupants dead--ah!"

He drew his head back sharply, for he had been suddenly seized with a catching of the breath.

"Get a sniff of it, sir?" said Smith, who was now close by.

"I breathed it, too," said Drew, "but the gas does not seem to be so powerful here above the water."

"No," said Panton. "I could just make out a crack or two through the coral. We're clear now."

"Yes," said the mate, looking back at the effervescing water, "and the bottom is alive again."

He was right, for the peculiar display of animal and vegetable growth was plain to see once more. Great sea slugs crawled about on the bottom with gigantic starfish, and actiniae of vivid colours spread their tentacled blossoms.

"Best way this of getting through the mist, eh, Lane?" cried Panton.

"But there is no mist over the sea," said Lane.

"No, I suppose the pa.s.sage through water makes the gas invisible," said Panton. "Isn't this somewhere near where we started, Mr Rimmer?"

"No, sir, 'bout a mile farther on. Keep a look-out and you'll see the opening in the cocoa-nut grove, and the marks of the boat's keel upon the sand."

They were not long in reaching the spot, and there the boat was run right up over the soft beach in among the tall stems of the nearest cocoanuts, and carefully made fast.

"But suppose savages come and find it?" suggested Oliver.

"Strikes me, Mr Lane," said the mate, "that we're the only savages here. Now, gentlemen, who says a drink of cocoa-nut milk, and then we'll make haste back to the brig."

There was ample store swinging overhead, and after a couple of tries, a man succeeded in climbing one of the tall, spar-like trees, and shaking down ample for their light lunch. A couple of hours later they had traversed the wave-swept plain, and reached the brig, where they were heartily welcomed by the portion of the crew left in charge.

"But what's the matter?" cried the mate. "You all look white about the gills."

"Had a bit of a scare, sir," said one of the men. "All at wonst, it was just as if the brig was an old cow a trying to get on her legs. For she was heaved up, shook herself a bit, and then settled down again, just as she was before."

"Not quite, my lad," said Wriggs. "Speak the truth whatever yer does.

She's got a cant to port since we went away."

He was quite right, the _Planet's_ deck was no longer level, but had a slope, and the masts, instead of being perpendicular, slanted slightly towards the horizon.

"Yes, Tommy Smith. Wet as you are," whispered Wriggs, solemnly, "I must tell yer the truth, it's as they say quite dangerous to be safe."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A STARTLER.

The strangeness of their position grew hourly to the crew of the _Planet_ brig, and again and again the mate proposed plans for extricating themselves.

"It will take time," he said, "but it would be far better than attempting the trip in open boats. I have had it over with the carpenter, and he thinks that we could build a small lugger--decked--of about the size of one of the Cornish mackerel craft. What do you gentlemen say to that?"