"Lie still, Mr. Denbigh," said Captain Pennington. "You'll be fit all in good time."
"All right," agreed the sub. He was not in a fit state to do otherwise. "Where is the Pelikan now?"
The skipper of the Myra lowered his voice.
"Properly trapped. She cannot go another fifty yards up the river. We've spoilt her little game."
"Good business," murmured Denbigh, and turning on his side he fell asleep.
His escape was little short of miraculous. It was owing to the fact that he wore his solar topee fastened by a strong "chin-stay". The air-space between the double thickness of the sun-helmet possessed sufficient buoyancy to bring him to the surface, after being twice taken down by the whirlpool.
A few minutes previous to the disaster, the bore had exhausted itself at a point ten miles up t
