Part 36 (1/2)

”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 s.n.a.t.c.h 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 s.h.i.+p.” 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 sh.o.r.e, 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 sh.o.r.e. 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 ash.o.r.e 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.