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“Come on,” Sorensen said. “I don’t know what Eakins figured out, but we better get that transmitter while we have a chance.”

They ran down the beach and put the launch into the water. Two hundred yards away, Eakins had reached the far edge of the beach with the animals in close pursuit. He broke into the jungle, still clinging to his walkie-talkie.

“Eakins?” Sorensen asked into the walkie-talkie.

“I’m all right,” Eakins said, panting hard for air. “Get that transmitter, and don’t forget the batteries!”

The men boarded the ketch. Working furiously, they ripped the transmitter off its bulkhead and dragged it up the companionway steps. Drake came last, carrying a twelve-volt battery. He went down again and brought up a second battery. He hesitated a moment, then went below for a third time.

“Drake!” Sorensen shouted. “Quit holding us up!”

Drake reappeared, carrying the ketch’s two radio direction finders and the compass. He handed them down and jumped into the launch.

“OK,” he said. “Let’s go.”