Kit walked aft.  The screw was uncovered, and shallow, muddy water, dotted by floating scum, surrounded the stern, which projected into the lagoon.  In one place, however, a mud-bank touched the bilge, and three or four men, standing on planks, cautiously tried its firmness.  They were wet and splashed, and one who ventured a few yards from the plank sank to his waist.  The others pulled him out and then they climbed a rope ladder.  Kit thought the experiment proved that nothing useful could be done until the tide flowed round the ship.

Another gang was moving a kedge-anchor across the deck, while a few more coiled heavy ropes beside the winch.  Mayne obviously meant to try to heave the vessel off, but Kit thought he would not succeed until the moon was full.  In the meantime, cargo could only be landed when there was water enough to float boats up to the ship, and Kit glanced across the lagoon.  There were no mangroves on the other side, although thick timber grew close down to a belt of sand.  Below this was mud, across which he imagined heavy goods could not be carried.  The heat and steamy damp made him languid, and he went to Adam’s room.  Adam had got up and sat, half-dressed, on the lower berth with a glass on the floor close by.  His hands shook and there was no color in his lips.

“It’s rather early for a strong cocktail, but I felt I needed bracing,” he said.  “What do you think about our chance of getting her off?”

“I imagine it’s impossible for another week and don’t see how we’ll get the cargo out.”

“Don’t you?” said Adam grimly.  “It has got to be done.  If Mayne finds the job too big, I’ll put it through myself.”

“You ought to leave before the malaria knocks you down,” Kit rejoined.  “If I had the power, I’d make you go.”

Adam smiled.  “You mean well, boy, but you don’t understand, and if you plot with Mayne to bluff me, I’ll surely break you both.  Now go and see if the president’s men have arrived.  Then you can tell Mayne to rig his derricks and take the hatches off.”

Kit went out and after a time three or four figures appeared among the trees across the lagoon.  They came down to the mud, but when Kit shouted, asking if they could launch a canoe, one shrugged and they turned back.

“I reckon the old man means us to get busy with the cargo,” Mayne remarked.

“Yes,” said Kit.  “I understand he’s ready to undertake the job if we find it too much for us.”

“He’s a hustler, sure!  So far as I can see, the thing can’t be done, but if Askew wants it done, I guess we’ve got to try.  We’ll carry out the kedge and make fast a warp or two when the tide flows.  He’ll expect it, though I don’t reckon much on our chance of floating her.”