“Nine-ty-two! Rah! Rah-oh-ah!”
But the shouts died away, as the crews took their places. The light shells lay motionless upon the water, while the rowers sat with their oars poised in air, their gaze bent on Lieutenant Wilde, as he stood waiting to give the signal. Not a breeze stirred the air, and the lake was only broken by the tiny ripples that just roughened its glassy surface. The very water seemed to feel the hush of waiting, and to be holding itself motionless, like the human life around and upon it.
Then the shouts rang out again, for the signal was given and each shell, answering to the sudden tension of eight pairs of arms, leaped forward on its course. The race had begun.
The shells passed the first half-mile post in excellent style. Ninety-two was leading by a boat-length, and rowing twenty-eight strokes to the minute. The senior stroke was a little slower, and it was plain that both crews were reserving their best efforts until farther on in their course. Keeping pace with them, the carriages drove along up the shore of the lake, while beyond the course, on the outer side, the little fleet of boats shifted their positions and moved on, to keep their favorite crews well in sight. There was little outward show of enthusiasm as yet, for the course was long, and the boys were saving their throats for the final demonstration; but they watched with eager interest the steady rise and fall of the shoulders, the quiet, even play of the muscles which the light jerseys could not conceal, and the smooth stroke as the oars struck the water, cut their way through it, then were feathered in the air, before falling again for the succeeding stroke. In the meantime, occasional scraps of comment could be heard, tossed from boat to boat as the groups continually shifted and changed.
“Ninety-two has a fine stroke.”
“Wait till ninety-one gets after her.”
“I’ll wait; ninety-one won’t be in it to-day.”
“Don’t you believe it, she’s only holding off now.”
“The blue’ll have it; she’s more than three lengths ahead.”
“Red’s spurting. There she comes!”