Heavier swells, now and again moving the boat slightly, swept the pan. Dan worked desperately at his caulking; Paul, sitting in the boat clinging to his seat, was expecting every moment to be washed from the ice. As he looked out into the fog and beheld the growing anger of the sea his apprehension grew. He realized fully their imminent peril, and he began to doubt the ability of the frail boat, even had it been free from damage, to weather the high piling waves.
All at once he thought he saw something in the distance, a faint splotch in the fog, and he called out:
“Dan! Dan! See there! What is that?”
Dan raised his eyes from his work and looked.
“Land! ’Tis th’ land!” he exclaimed. “’Tis th’ land and we’ll soon be ashore.”
The tide was carrying them in, and more and more distinct a rocky outline of coast loomed up. Dan did not stop his repairs, however, and presently the task of caulking was finished.
“There,” said he, “she’s caulked, an’ she’ll do to take us ashore.”
“Can’t we float her now and land?” asked Paul, in feverish excitement.
“That’s a p’int of land,” said Dan, “We’re driftin’ in around un, and I’m thinkin’ th’ tide’ll carry us to the lee, an’ we’ll have less sea to launch in, if we waits a bit.”