For an instant it seemed that in spite of Dan’s best effort they must strike upon the rocks, the next instant the danger was past, the boat drove hard upon the gravel, and both boys sprang ashore for their lives, to escape a breaker which swept over the boat.
One on either side they grasped the bow, and as another wave came rolling in, pulled with all their might. Thus, aided by the force of the water, the boat was drawn sufficiently high to permit them to unload, bale out the water, and haul the boat to safety.
“We made un all right,” remarked Dan, when everything was beyond danger.
“Yes,” said Paul, “but it was a narrow escape.”
“’T were that,” admitted Dan. “’T were wonderful close we was t’ bein’ swamped.”
The boys themselves and all their things were drenching wet. Not a stick of driftwood was to be found. The wind was bitterly cold. They had eaten nothing since the previous evening, and then only the unsatisfying gull, and the barren coast was destitute of game. But they had escaped death, and were thankful for their deliverance.