"We can't land here," he announced. "We'll be in up to our necks."
"Must," declared Denbigh laconically, raising his voice to enable it to be heard above the now loud roar of the approaching bore.
Seizing the lead-line and bending one end round his waist Denbigh leapt overboard, threw himself at full length upon the mud, and working with his hands drew himself laboriously over the slimy surface. It was horribly exhausting work, but to his intense satisfaction he found himself making visible progress without sinking beyond a few inches in the ooze.
Ahead he could discern the dark outlines of the mangrove forest. It seemed an interminable distance away.
Presently his hand came in contact with the trunk of a tree, that had fallen and had been partly embedded in the mud. It afforded a precarious foothold, but proceeding carefully, Denbigh found that the farther end rested in comparatively firm soil.
Planting his feet against the trunk, the sub hauled at the lead-line with all his might. The flat-bottomed punt glided easily over the slime until its bows were within a yard of the fallen tree. Then, unexpectedly, the rope that had rendered such good service parted like pack-thread.
Denbigh, losing his balance, fell prostrate on the ground, which was here soft enough to break his fall but sufficiently stiff to prevent him from being swallowed up in the mud.
Quickly O'Hara and Armstrong jumped, and grasping their fallen comrade hauled him to his feet. They had barely time to gain the firm bank when the bore thundered past, sweeping the punt away like a straw. They had a momentary glimpse of its bows rearing high in the air on the crest of the foaming, breaking wall of water, then it vanished out of sight.
"Phew!" exclaimed Armstrong. "That was a narrow squeak."
"I'm in a horrible mess," announced Denbigh. "The mud of Portsmouth Harbour is eau de Cologne compared with this filthy slime."
"Good heavens, man! you're shivering," declared O'Hara. "That won't do. Here, take my coat. I don't want it. I insist."
Waving aside Denbigh's objections the Irishman made him take off his saturated garments, while the rest of the deficiency of the sub's wardrobe was temporarily made good by making use of Armstrong's silk scarf as a loin-cloth. The men realized that in the deadly African climate dry clothing was of utmost importance. The sub's saturated and mud-encaked garments were made up into a bundle to be washed and dried at the first opportunity.