I yawned and shivered.

"Must we row, Bigley, old fellow?" I said dolefully.

"Yes. Now, then. Both together."

I let my oar fall in the water with a splash, and then began to pull,

feeling dreadfully stiff and cold, and aching so that I could hardly use

my arms.

"Pull away!" cried Bigley; and I did pull away, making an angry snatch

at the water each time, for I was in pain and misery; but in a short

time the stiffness wore off, the aching was not so bad, and, to my great

delight, a curious sensation of glow began to run through me, and I was

beginning to feel comfortable, when Bigley exclaimed:

"In oars! I'm going to wake up Bob."

He leaned forward and shook Bob, who resented it by kicking, and then

throwing out a fist which struck the side of the boat a sharp rap.

"Bob! Bob Chowne! Wake up!" cried Bigley taking him by both shoulders

and shaking him.

Bob hit out again, striking Bigley this time viciously in the chest, and

the result was another sharp shake, for Bigley seemed disposed to take

up his father's tone again.

"What is it?" whimpered Bob. "I am so precious cold. Let me alone,

will you?"

"Just you get on that thwart and row, will you?" cried Bigley in a deep

fierce growl; and Bob slowly, and with many a groan and sigh, took his

place, and began to row straight away into the darkness.

It was a wise thing to do, for it made us warmer, tired as we grew, and

so we kept on change and change about for quite an hour, when I saw

something which made me shout.

"We're close home; there's the light."

Bigley looked out in the direction I pointed, and watched for a minute

before he spoke.

"No," he said; "it's moving. It's a light on board a ship." It was out

of our course, but it seemed the wisest thing to do; and with visions of

dry warm blankets, and something hot to drink, we tugged away at our

oars, but never seemed to get a bit nearer to the light, which kept

disappearing and then coming into sight again, looking if anything

smaller than before.

How long the time seemed, and how bitterly cold it was! By degrees our

clothes seemed to be not quite so heavy and wet; but, though I could get

my arms and hands warmed, my legs and feet seemed to have lost all their

feeling, no matter what I did to bring it back.

It was still dark all around, though overhead the sky now sparkled with

points of light, one of which that we kept seeing in the distance might

very well have been on the shore, only that we felt sure that we saw it

move.

And so hour after hour we tugged away at the oars, changing about, and

the one who was off lying down to go to sleep directly in spite of the

wet and cold, for sheer exhaustion was stronger than either.

At last the whole affair seemed to grow misty and dreamlike, and I was

only in a half-conscious state, when all at once I noted that the sky

looked pale and grey behind us, and this showed that we were rowing to

the west.

But for a long time there was nothing but that pale grey look in the sky

to indicate that morning was coming; indeed, once, or twice as it became

cloudy, it seemed to be darker.

By degrees, though, out of the dull drowsy, weary confusion of that

bitter night the day did begin to dawn; and in a hopeless way we tried

to make out how far we were from the shore. But for a long time we

could distinguish nothing but what seemed to be high hills, having long

missed the stars now on account of the clouds.

Then we thought these must be clouds too, for it seemed impossible that

it could be land, and both Bigley and I said so to Bob.

But he was sulky and dejected, and would not take any notice of us,

treating us both as if it was all our fault that we had been driven out

to sea, though we were quite as miserable as he; and at any moment I

felt ready to throw myself down in the bottom of the boat and give up.

At last, though, as there comes an end to all dismal nights, this also

had its finish, and we made out, as we lay on the cold grey sea of that

fine winter morning, that we were about five miles from the Welsh coast,

and home lay as near as we could tell right beyond the range of our

vision, far away to the south-east.

"What's to be done?" Bob said dolefully. "Hadn't we better row ashore

here, and ask for something to eat?"

Big said _No_, decidedly, for he had caught sight of a good-sized vessel

some miles away to the south-east.

"If we get ashore here we shall be farther away from home," he argued;

"and I've heard my father say there's sharp currents about this coast,

which would be too much for us, and besides, father is sure to come out

to look for us this morning, so let's try and get back."

"And some ship is sure to see us, and give us something to eat," I said

hopefully. "Come, Bob, rouse up. We shall get across all right."

Setting the boat's head as nearly as we could guess toward the opposite

shore, we began to row; and, though it was winter time, we were not long

before we were pretty warm, and Bob Chowne unwillingly took his turn.

But we made poor progress. Miles take a great deal of getting over with

a small boat in the open sea at the best of times. So rowed as ours was

by three weary hungry boys, as may be supposed, we did not make the best

of way.

We saw several vessels and tried to signal them, but no one took any

notice of us till about midday, when a very large lugger that was

beating across from the Devon shore began to bear down upon us, and

before long, to our great joy, we were able to make out the figures

looking over her bulwarks, one of whom waved something in answer to our

frantic tossing up of our caps and holding a jacket on the blade of an

oar.

Then we set to work and rowed as hard as we could, making very little

progress though, for wind and tide were against us. But the big lugger

came rushing on, and we could see now that there were dark

foreign-looking men on her deck.

It did not matter to us, though, what they were, so long as they would

take us on board, for we were starving and faint, and had long ago come

to the conclusion that we should not be able to row across before dark,

half the day being gone, and the night would come down very early seeing

the time of year.

Bigley and I were in ecstasies, and even Bob began to look a little more

cheerful as the lugger came closer, and then rounded up with her head to

the wind, and lay with her dark red sails flapping.

We rowed up to her side, and a man threw us a rope.

Devon Boys: A Tale of the North Shore · 第 50 / 125 题