The mate stood by with a spy-glass. When the full light fell at last upon the water, I put the glass to my eye. One glance was enough..
"Forward, there!" I shouted at the top of my voice; and with, one bound I readied the main hatch, and began to clear away the ship's cutter. Mr. Larkin had received the glass from my hand to take a look for himself.
"O, pitiful sight!" he said in a whisper, as he set to work to aid me in getting out the boat; "there are two children on that cake of ice!"
In a very short space of time we launched the cutter, into which Mr. Larkin and myself jumped, followed by two men, who took the oars. I held the tiller, and the mate sat beside me.
"Do you see that cake of ice with something black upon it, lads?" I cried; "put me alongside of that, and I will give you a month's extra wages when you are paid off."
The men were worn out by the hard duty of the preceding fortnight; and, though they did their best, the boat made little more way than the tide. This was a long chase; and Mr. Larkin, who was suffering as he saw how little we gained, cried out—
"Pull, lads—I'll double the captain's prize. Pull, lads, for the sake of mercy, pull!"
A convulsive effort at the oars told how willing the men were to obey, but their strength was gone. One of the poor fellows splashed us twice in recovering his oar, and then gave out; the other was nearly as far gone. Mr. Larkin sprung forward and seized the deserted oar.
"Lie down in the bottom of the boat," said he to the man; "and, captain, take the other oar; we must row for ourselves." I took the second man's place.
Larkin had stripped to his Guernsey shirt; as he pulled the bow I waited the signal stroke. It came gently, but firmly; and the next moment we were pulling a long, steady stroke, gradually increasing in rapidity until the wood seemed to smoke in the oar-locks.