their heads and a wild flare of
lightning lit the dark water as he dipped the blade. In a moment, rain
was falling in blinding sheets, the wind and spray were roaring in
their ears, and the ebbing tide was carrying them away, out of the
harbor, past the rocky island, straight to the open, angry sea.

After a long time, Secotan, who had lain inert where he had been
thrown into the boat, got to his knees and took up the second paddle.
Only by keeping the little boat's bow to the wind could immediate
destruction be averted. But the medicine man's strokes were feeble,
affording little help, and at last he laid down the blade.

"It is of no use, Nashola," he said. "Death rides on the wind and
snatches at us from the black waters. Lay down your paddle and let us
die."

"No," the boy answered, "even though death is not an hour away, we
will fight it until the very end."

Darkness shut down about them so that they could scarcely see each
other as they went on in silence. Although each combing, foam-capped
rush of water seemed certain to overwhelm them, there was a strange
exhilaration, a mad thrill in rising to every giant wave and shooting
down its green side in a cloud of spray. One--two--three--each one
seemed the last, and yet there were ever more. Nashola's arms were
numb and heavy, his head reeled, but still he struggled on. He wished
at last that death would come quickly, to still the terrible aching
weariness that possessed his whole being. The worst of the storm had
blown, roaring, past them, but the seas were still heavy and
nothing--nothing, Nashola thought, could ever bring back the strength
to his failing arms.

Suddenly the clouds were torn apart, showing a glimmer of stars and a
vague glimpse of the tossing black water all about them.

"Look, look, Nashola," cried the medicine man, pointing upward, "they
have come to help us, your kinsmen, the Seven Brothers of the Sun!"

But Nashola was not looking at the sky; his eyes were fixed on a
ghostly shape moving close ahead of them and on the fitful gleam of a
ship's lantern that tossed and glimmered in the dark. Dropping his
paddle he put his hands to his mouth and lifted his voice in a long
hail. The light bobbed and swung and an answering shout came through
the darkness.

To the weather-beaten English sailors, used to the rough adventures of
sailing new and uncharted seas, there was little excitement in picking
up two half-drowned Indians, although they h