th some
misgivings into the little cabin. The lamp was lighted, and when he
sat down Wyllard, who raised himself feebly on his pillow, turned a
pallid face to him.

"Charly tells me you picked the boat up," he said.

"We did," said Dampier. "She had three or four planks on one side
ripped out of her."

Wyllard's faint grimace implied that this did not matter, and Dampier
braced himself for the question he dreaded. He had to face it in
another moment.

"How's she heading?"

"A little south of east."

Wyllard's face hardened. It was still blowing moderately fresh, and by
the heave of the vessel and the wash of water outside he could guess
how fast she was travelling. Except for the latter sound, however,
there was for a moment or two an almost oppressive silence in the
little cabin. Then Wyllard spoke again.

"You have been running to the eastwards since I was struck down?" he
said.

Dampier nodded. "Three days," he said. "Just now the breeze is on her
quarter."

He winced under Wyllard's gaze, and spread his hands out deprecatingly.

"Now," he added, "what else was there I could do? She wrung her
masthead off when you jibed her and there's not stick enough left to
set any canvas that would shove her to windward, I might have hove her
to, but the first time the breeze hauled easterly she'd have gone up on
the beach or among the ice with us. I had to run!"

Wyllard closed a feeble hand. "Dunton was crippled, too. It's almost
incredible."

"In one way, it looks like that, but, after all, a jibe's quite a
common thing with a fore-and-after. If you run her off to lee when
she's going before it her mainboom's bound to come over. Of course,
nobody would run her off in a wicked breeze unless he had to, but you'd
no choice with the ice in front of you."

Wyllard lay very still for almost a minute. It was clear to him that
his project must be abandoned for that season, which meant that at
least six months must elapse before he could even approach the
Kamtchatkan coast again.

"Well," he said at length, "what do you mean to do?"

"If the breeze holds we could pick up one of the Aleutians in a few
days, but I'm keeping south of them. There'll probably be ugly ice
along the beaches, and I've no fancy for being cast ashore by a strong
tide when the fog lies on the land. With westerly winds I'd sooner
hold on for Alaska. We could lie snug in an inlet there, and, it's
quite likely, get a cedar tha