Passage to Mutiny by Alexander Kent Page B

or did those lush slopes hide curious eyes? He recalled how he had landed on one such beach. Lulled by the heady scents of palms and unfamiliar vegetation, free for a while from the spartan life aboard ship, he had been totally unprepared for the sudden rush of screaming, stabbing savages. It still came back to him, especially at moments like this.
    â€œNor’-west by north, sir! Steady as she goes!”
    â€œVery well.” Bolitho turned slightly towards Herrick. “Nothing, Thomas. Not even smoke from a fire.”
    Herrick replied, “I don’t like it.” He too had a glass trained on the islands. “At this crawl any lookout would have sighted us long ago.”
    As if to confirm his words six bells chimed out from the forecastle. Eleven o’clock. A long while since dawn.
    Bolitho bit his lip. Too long. He did not know the Eurotas, but she was a well-found ship and no stranger to these waters. Her captain, James Lloyd, had an equally sound reputation. But even if the ship had foundered on a reef, surely some survivors would have got clear in the boats?
    He lowered the glass and watched a shark rise momentarily to show the whole of its sleek back to the sunlight, barely an oar’s length from the side.
    Midshipman Swift said, “Cutter’s signalling, sir.” Even his voice was hushed. Like the hot breeze. Like the ship.
    Bolitho raised the glass again and saw Starling, one of the master’s mates, standing upright in the sternsheets, his arm outstretched.
    â€œTake note, Mr Lakey.” Bolitho shut the glass with a snap. “The boat has sighted shoals to the nor’-west.”
    He looked up, shading his eyes with his forearm. Under top-sails and jib only Tempest was making poor headway. But they had to stay alert. Be ready to come about, in a baby’s breath if necessary, and fight clear of those hidden reefs.
    He watched the sails, barely filling, and the shortened shapes of the lookouts. Just to watch them made him feel dizzy. One was not even holding on to his perch in the crosstrees, and Bolitho could see his leg jerking up and down, probably in time with a song only he could hear.
    Lakey left the wheel, where two helmsmen stood crushed by the blazing sunlight, and walked to the quarterdeck rail.
    Bolitho turned to face him, dragging at his shoe which had stuck to the deck seams.
    Lakey said quietly, “Been thinking, sir. There’s another island. To the nor’-east. On the chart it shows no name, but sailors call it the Island of Five Hills.” He shrugged. “For the hills are all there are of it. I went ashore there some years back when I was serving in the old Fowey. The hills give good shelter to an anchorage, and there’s a beach, too. We put in looking for water.” He sighed, remembering. “But apart from rock pools we were unlucky.”
    Herrick said, “Well, Eurotas is hardly likely to be there, is she?” He could barely hide his impatience. Like most of those around him he was feeling the strain.
    Lakey was unmoved. “It’s not that, sir. If the ship was damaged, holed mebbe. Well, she could be beached in safety, with far less chance of attack by natives an’ the like than on the larger islands.” He frowned. “I should have thought of it earlier.”
    Bolitho looked at him, thinking hard. “No matter. It makes good sense, and as we have to pass through the islands anyway, we’ll lose nothing by extending the search a little.”
    â€œMr Starling’s signalling again, sir.” Swift’s tanned face was screwed up with concentration as he watched the cutter through the big signals telescope. “Reefs close to larboard, but still no bottom.”
    Lakey breathed out slowly. “The chart is right about that, anyway.”
    Bolitho plucked the shirt away from his chest. It was wringing wet.
    â€œNevertheless, we will begin sounding ourselves. Pass the word forward to the