The canoe darted forward again with stealthy haste. The night was
clear, though dark. The stars helped them to distinguish the outlines
of the shore now coming rapidly nearer. As they crept round the
southern cheek of Point _Kansas_, the Argentine ceased paddling, and
placed a warning hand on Gray's arm. The cliff was so high and steep
that its shadow plunged into deepest gloom the water at its base.
Suarez, however, had imbibed a good deal of savage lore during his
enforced residence on the island. He stretched well forward over the
bows, held a paddle as far in front as possible, and thus not only
guided the drifting canoe by an occasional dip of the blade, but
trusted to it for warning of any unseen rock.
There was a cold breeze on the surface of the bay, but the dog was the
only one who shivered, and his tremors arose from excitement. At last
they felt a slight bump. The Argentine had found the reef he was
searching for; by watching a star it was easy enough to follow the
southerly bend taken by the canoe in skirting this barrier, while their
ears caught the murmur of the swift current amid the numerous tiny
channels of the rocks.
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