Late on a gloomy evening Jimmy and his friends sat down for a few minutes’ rest on the beach of a lonely island on the northern coast. With the help of Jaques they had fitted out the sloop¹, and had sailed much earlier in the year than was prudent², fearing that Clay might arrive ahead of them. The voyage proved trying, for they spent days hove to while the sloop was blown to leeward³ by bitter gales⁴, and they were now and then forced to run off their course for shelter. Still, they stubbornly fought their way north. The strong breeze that Clay’s schooner-yacht had met badly buffeted⁵ the smaller boat. In driving her to windward through a steep head-sea the heavy strain upon the shrouds⁶ started a leak under her channel plates, and after a long spell of steady pumping the men reluctantly decided⁷ to seek a sheltered harbor, where the damage could be repaired.  
This had not proved a difficult task, for some caulking⁸ was all that was required, but in order to reach the leak they had to lay her on the beach, and Jimmy thought it a desirable opportunity for filling up the water-breakers. Taking them ashore⁹ in the dory, they carried the small craft up; and after getting the water they set out for a walk across the island, because the sloop would not float until nearly high tide. The island was barren except for a few clumps¹⁰ of stunted¹¹ trees, but they enjoyed the ramble¹², and were now feeling tired by the unusual exercise, as well as hungry, because they had not troubled about taking any lunch.
 
Picking a sheltered spot, Bethune lighted his pipe and languidly looked about. Dingy¹³ clouds were driving across the island, and the leaden water broke with an angry splash among the stones. There had been a light breeze from seaward when they went ashore, but it had changed, and now blew moderately fresh off the land. It was very cold, with a rawness that penetrated¹⁴. Bethune shivered.
 
“We ought to be getting on board,” he said; “but I wish we had a paid crew to carry down the breakers and row us off. And I’d enjoy my supper better if I didn’t have to cook it myself. It’s curious how luxurious¹⁶ tastes stick to you.”
 
“If you’d been a lobster¹⁷ fisher, you wouldn’t have had any,” Moran remarked.
 
“I expect that’s true,” Bethune laughed. “No doubt it depends on the way one is brought up; but you don’t often surprise us with these reflections. Anyway, I can’t help thinking of our opponent sitting at the saloon table on board his yacht with a smart steward¹⁸ waiting to bring him what he wants, while we squat¹⁹ over our tin plates in the cubby-hole with our knees against the centerboard trunk and our heads among the beams. It’s a painful contrast.”
 
“The sooner you finish moralizing and make a move, the sooner we’ll get supper,” Jimmy reminded him.
 
“I wish it was Hank’s turn, only that one doesn’t have much pleasure in eating the stuff he cooks. Still, it will be a comfort to work with the stove upright, and not to have to hold the things on. That’s why I was waiting until the tide lifted her.”
 
“She’s afloat now,” said Moran.
 
Bethune, looking up, saw that this was correct, for the sloop’s mast began to move across the rocks in the background. Then there was a rattle²⁰ of chain, and she drifted faster.
 
“Taking up the slack of her cable,” said Jimmy. “We’d better get on board. I didn’t give her much scope because I wanted to keep her off the stones.”
 
“Wait until I’ve smoked my pipe out,” Bethune said lazily; and they sat still for a few minutes.
 
The sloop brought up, sheering to and fro in the eddying²¹ gusts²². When Moran turned to look at her he jumped up with an exclamation²³.
 
“She’s off again!”
 
They watched her mast, and saw a gap open between it and a boulder²⁴. It was obvious that she was moving out to sea.
 
“The wind has changed since we left!” exclaimed Jimmy. “When she swung, she got a turn of her cable round the anchor-fluke and pulled it up.”
 
“We’d better run for the dory!” Bethune cried, setting off along the shore.
 
“No use!” Jimmy called after him. “There isn’t time.” He jerked off his heavy sea-boots as he added: “She’s dragging her cable along the bottom now, but it won’t check her long.”
 
The others saw that he was right. The water got deeper suddenly below the half-tide line, and when the boat had picked up her anchor her progress would be rapid.
 
“It’s too cold for swimming, and you can’t catch her!” Bethune expostulated breathlessly.
 
“I must do the best I can,” said Jimmy, flinging off his jacket and plunging²⁵ into the water.
 
They left him and ran along the beach, stumbling among the stones. It was some distance to the dory, and darkness was coming on. The Cetacea would drift to leeward fast, and they feared that she would be out of sight before they could begin the chase, but they might be in time to pick up their exhausted²⁶ comrade. There was no doubt that he soon would become exhausted, because the water was icy cold, and a short, troubled swell²⁷ worked into the bay. Besides this, the horror of their position lent them speed. It looked as if they would be left without food or shelter from the inclement²⁸ weather on the desolate²⁹ island. They had not even a line to catch fish with, and Bethune remembered that he had only three or four loose matches in his pocket.
 
He fell into a hollow between two boulders³⁰, hurting his leg, but was up again in a moment, making the best speed he could, with Moran clattering³¹ among the rocks a yard or two behind. Fortunately, the tide was almost up to the dory when they reached her. Thrusting her off they jumped on board and rowed with savage³² determination, pulling an oar¹⁵ each. The light craft lifted her bows and leaped forward in time to their powerful strokes, but a steeper swell was working in against the wind as the tide rose, and the long undulations checked her. Though the air was keen, the sweat dripped from the men as they rowed with throbbing³³ hearts and labored³⁴ breath, turning their heads for a glance forward every now and then.
 
They could not see their comrade, but that was hardly to be expected: a man’s head is a small object to distinguish at a distance in broken water. The Cetacea, however, was still visible, and she did not seem to be much farther offshore³⁵. It was possible that Jimmy had got on board, and that they might overtake her before she felt the full force of the wind. The hope put fresh heart into them, and they strained every muscle to drive the dory faster across the irregular heave.
 
When Jimmy plunged³⁶ into the icy water he gasped³⁷ as it closed about him. The cold took away his breath and paralyzed his limbs, and he let his feet fall with an unreasoning desire to scramble³⁸ out again. This, however, lasted only for a momen............