last,
gripping the water the instant the oar is back and the body and arms
forward, and dragged clean through without jerk or plunge, the swing of
the bodies regular as clockwork, the feather clear and rapid--this
essentially is the kind of rowing which not only puts most pace into the
boat, but is capable of being sustained far longer than any other.

Not long after us our opponents embarked, and we had an opportunity of
criticising their style as they paddled up to where we lay waiting for
them. It certainly looked pretty and taking. The stroke was quicker
than ours, and equally regular, but it seemed to end in a spasmodic jerk
as the oars left the water, which, though it succeeded in making the
boat travel quickly, appeared to try the powers of the rowers rather
more than our style did. Still, there was no mistaking that they were a
fast and a powerful crew, and I remember to this day the passing
thought, "I wish we were at the end of it!" that flashed through my mind
as I gathered my rudder lines together, ready for the start.

Mr Blunt is to act as starter, and is coming towards us in a boat, with
his watch in his hand. Our rivals' boat is lying close beside ours, and
I can see their stroke is leaning forward and saying something to the
coxswain. I wonder it it's about me? Perhaps he is telling him to push
me out of my course, or perhaps they are saying how nervous I am
looking! Well, I _am_ nervous. I begin to think I shall forget which
way I have to go. Perhaps I shall pull the right-hand line instead of
the left; or possibly I shall omit to pull either line at all! What
lasting disgrace will then be mine! Then suddenly I remember what Mr
Blunt said, that it's all up with a race if the "cox" loses his head,
and by a violent effort I banish my qualms, and resolve, come what may,
_nothing_ shall unsteady me. Still, my hands tremble as I grasp the
lines.

"Adams," says Blades, "make my stretcher fast, will you?"

The voice of a human being close to me, somehow, has the effect of
helping me to recover my wits completely; and as I kneel and make fast
the stretcher, and then once again take my seat in the stern of the
boat, I feel quite myself again, and wonder at myself for being such an
ass.

"Back water half a stroke!" calls out Mr Blunt to us from his skiff.

We obey him, and then find the other boat is a little in front of us.
We therefore move a quarter of a stroke forward. Still the boats are