ng very fast and heading for the
ice. Then he lost sight of her again, for a thin shower of whirling
snow suddenly obscured the light. Dampier called to him.

"You'll have to run her off," he said. "Boys, slack out your sheets."

There was a clatter of blocks, and when Wyllard pulled his helm up it
taxed all his strength. The _Selache_ swung round, and he gasped with
the effort to control her as she drove away furiously into the
thickening snow. She was carrying far too much canvas, but they could
not heave her to and take it off her now. The boat must be picked up
first, and the veins rose swollen to Wyllard's forehead as he struggled
with the wheel. There is always a certain possibility of bringing a
fore-and-aft rigged vessel's mainboom over when she is running hard,
and this is rather apt to result in disaster to her spars. So fast was
she travelling that the sea piled up in a big white wave beneath her
quarter, and, cold as it was, the sweat of tense effort dripped from
Wyllard as he forecasted what he had to do. First of all, he must hold
her straight before the wind without letting her fall off to leeward,
which would bring the booms crashing over; then he must run past the
boat, which he could no longer see, and round the schooner up with
fore-staysail aback to leeward of her, to wait until she drove down on
them.

This would not have been difficult in a moderate breeze, but the wind
was freshening furiously and the schooner was horribly pressed with
sail. He thought of calling the others to lower the mainsail peak, but
with the weight of wind there was in the canvas he was not sure that
they could haul the gaff down. Besides, they were busy securing the
boat, which must be made fast again before they hove the other in, and
it was almost dark now. In view of what had happened in the same
waters one night four years ago, the desire to pick the boat up while
there was a little light left became an obsession.

In the meanwhile, the swell was rapidly whitening and getting steeper.
The _Selache_ hove herself out of it forward as she swung up with
streaming bows. It almost seemed to Wyllard that he must overrun the
boat before he noticed her, but at length he saw Dampier swing himself
on to the rail. He stood there clutching at a shroud, and presently
turned towards Wyllard, swinging up an arm.

"Right ahead!" he shouted. "Let her come up a few points before you
run over them."

Wyllard put his h