Cooper’s King Kong 12 SKULL ISLANDMARCH 13, 1933 Driscoll burned with the urge to resume the chase, though the business of lashing together the logs didn’t take long. By the time the sailors had finished their work, the craft looked sturdy enough. Jimmy and a couple of others cut long saplings they could use to pole their way across the water, and together the party shoved the raft down the slope, launched it on what looked like a river of fog, and climbed aboard. It was a tight fit, and Denham carefully made sure that Jimmy stowed the crate of gas bombs in the center. “Don’t get the guns wet, whatever you do,” he warned. “Shove off!” Driscoll ordered, and the men leaned on their poles. The log raft moved with a jerk and a clumsy roll that made the men at the rear stagger. Denham gave Driscoll a sardonic sideways look. “This is your first independent command. Guess I’ll have to call you Captain Driscoll from now on.” “Stow it,” Driscoll said, but not sharply. “Say, this really is wider than I thought.
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