Men, Women, and Boats | Page 9

mentioned to the boat in general how the
amusement of rowing struck him, and the weary-faced oiler smiled in
full sympathy. Previously to the foundering, by the way, the oiler had
worked double-watch in the engine-room of the ship.
"Take her easy, now, boys," said the captain. "Don't spend yourselves.
If we have to run a surf you'll need all your strength, because we'll sure
have to swim for it. Take your time."
Slowly the land arose from the sea. From a black line it became a line
of black and a line of white, trees and sand. Finally, the captain said
that he could make out a house on the shore. "That's the house of refuge,
sure," said the cook. "They'll see us before long, and come out after
us."

The distant lighthouse reared high. "The keeper ought to be able to
make us out now, if he's looking through a glass," said the captain.
"He'll notify the life-saving people."
"None of those other boats could have got ashore to give word of the
wreck," said the oiler, in a low voice. "Else the lifeboat would be out
hunting us."
Slowly and beautifully the land loomed out of the sea. The wind came
again. It had veered from the north-east to the south-east. Finally, a new
sound struck the ears of the men in the boat. It was the low thunder of
the surf on the shore. "We'll never be able to make the lighthouse now,"
said the captain. "Swing her head a little more north, Billie," said he.
"'A little more north,' sir," said the oiler.
Whereupon the little boat turned her nose once more down the wind,
and all but the oarsman watched the shore grow. Under the influence of
this expansion doubt and direful apprehension was leaving the minds of
the men. The management of the boat was still most absorbing, but it
could not prevent a quiet cheerfulness. In an hour, perhaps, they would
be ashore.
Their backbones had become thoroughly used to balancing in the boat,
and they now rode this wild colt of a dingey like circus men. The
correspondent thought that he had been drenched to the skin, but
happening to feel in the top pocket of his coat, he found therein eight
cigars. Four of them were soaked with sea-water; four were perfectly
scathless. After a search, somebody produced three dry matches, and
thereupon the four waifs rode impudently in their little boat, and with
an assurance of an impending rescue shining in their eyes, puffed at the
big cigars and judged well and ill of all men. Everybody took a drink of
water.
IV
"Cook," remarked the captain, "there don't seem to be any signs of life
about your house of refuge."

"No," replied the cook. "Funny they don't see us!"
A broad stretch of lowly coast lay before the eyes of the men. It was of
dunes topped with dark vegetation. The roar of the surf was plain, and
sometimes they could see the white lip of a wave as it spun up the
beach. A tiny house was blocked out black upon the sky. Southward,
the slim lighthouse lifted its little grey length.
Tide, wind, and waves were swinging the dingey northward. "Funny
they don't see us," said the men.
The surf's roar was here dulled, but its tone was, nevertheless,
thunderous and mighty. As the boat swam over the great rollers, the
men sat listening to this roar. "We'll swamp sure," said everybody.
It is fair to say here that there was not a life-saving station within
twenty miles in either direction, but the men did not know this fact, and
in consequence they made dark and opprobrious remarks concerning
the eyesight of the nation's life-savers. Four scowling men sat in the
dingey and surpassed records in the invention of epithets.
"Funny they don't see us."
The lightheartedness of a former time had completely faded. To their
sharpened minds it was easy to conjure pictures of all kinds of
incompetency and blindness and, indeed, cowardice. There was the
shore of the populous land, and it was bitter and bitter to them that
from it came no sign.
"Well," said the captain, ultimately, "I suppose we'll have to make a try
for ourselves. If we stay out here too long, we'll none of us have
strength left to swim after the boat swamps."
And so the oiler, who was at the oars, turned the boat straight for the
shore. There was a sudden tightening of muscle. There was some
thinking.
"If we don't all get ashore--" said the captain. "If we don't all get ashore,

I suppose you fellows know where to send news of my finish?"
They then briefly exchanged some addresses and admonitions. As for
the reflections of the