Part 14 (1/2)

'Of course we can,' said Davies, 'if you don't hy'

I reconsidered estion, but it was too late now to turn back, and some desperate expedient was necessary I found iddily down and then up at the dinghy, as it bobbed like a cork in the trough of the sea alongside, while Davies settled the sculls and rowlocks

'Juather ht, reeling fro waves Davies nursed our walnut-shell tenderly over their crests, edging her slantwise across their course He used very little exertion, relying on the tide to carry us to our goal

Suddenly the ht, and the dinghy rested softly in a shallow eddy

'The West Hohenhorn,' said Davies We juhy a foot or two, then mounted the bank and were on hard, wet sand The wind leapt on us, and choked our voices

'Let's find ht astern of you'

We set off with a long, stooping stride in the teeth of the wind, and straight towards the roar of the breakers on the farther side of the sand A line of Matthew Arnold's, 'The naked shi+ngles of the world,'

was running inlike sea-birds on a transient islet of sand, encircled by rushi+ng tides and haale--cut off even froe' It was the tih me as I drank the wind and pressed forward It seemed but a minute or two and Davies clutched me

'Look out!' he shouted 'It'sriver glient and followed its course to the north, stu to be blinded by a fine salt spray, and deafened by the thunder of the ocean surf The river broadened, whitened, roughened, gathered itself for the shock, was shattered, and dissolved in ht, and splashed into yeasty froth I turned my back to the wind, scooped the brine out of my eyes, faced back and saw that our path was barred by a welter of surf Davies's voice was inseaward

'This--is--about where--I--bu Let's--go--right--round'

We galloped aith the wind behind us, skirting the line of surf

I lost all account of time and direction Another sea barred our road, becaain ere in the teeth of that intoxicating wind Then a point of light aying and flickering away to the left, and noere checking and circling I stuunwale So we had coitive dohtmare island as I always remember it

'Youhard now Keep her nose _up_ a little--all you know!'

We lurched along,at the bubbles of a wave top Davies, in the bows, said 'Pull!' or 'Steady!' at intervals I heard the scud slanced over the waves

'Easy! Let her come!' and the bowsprit of the 'Dulcibella', swollen to spectral proportions, was stabbing the darkness above ood strokes shi+p your scull! Now ju hull and landed in a heap Davies folloith the painter, and the dinghy swept astern

'She's riding beautifully now,' said he, when he had secured the painter 'There'll be no rolling on the flood, and it's nearly loater'

I don't think I should have cared, however much she had rolled I was finally cured of funk

It ell that I was, for to be pitched out of your bunk on to wet oil-cloth is a disheartening beginning to a day This happened about eight o'clock The yacht was pitching violently, and I crawled on all fours into the cabin, where Davies was setting out breakfast on the floor

'I let you sleep on,' he said; 'we can't do anything till the water falls We should never get the anchor up in this sea Co now,' he went on, ere crouching low on deck, gripping cleats for safety 'Wind's veered to nor'-west

It's been blowing a full gale, and the sea is at its worst now--near high water You'll never see worse than this'

I was prepared for what I saw--the storues around, and a chaos of breakers where our dream-island had stood--and took it quietly, even with a sort of elation The 'Dulcibella' faced the stor her bowsprit into the sea and flinging green water over her bows A wave of confidence and affection for her welled through ht and bulk of her unwieldy anchor and cable, but I saw their use now; varnish, paint, spotless decks, and snowy sails were foppish absurdities of a hateful past

'What can we do to-day?' I asked