The morning wore on, and it seemed to Alibee that noon would never come. Every stroke went against his will. At one time he was on the point of deserting, and leaving Raner and Layn there to drive each other; but seeing how dense the fog was, and remembering he had no other way of getting off the Beach than to walk three or four miles east to the groups of mowers they had passed in the morning, and fearing that he might get lost should he attempt this—a thought which made him shudder—he held himself in control. The fog at this time was so thick that one could not distinguish an object four rods away, and the impossibility of measuring with the eye what had been cut, and what yet remained of the plot apportioned for the morning, was disheartening to Alibee. To his mind it seemed an endless cutting in a prison of fog. If, however, he had lost calculation and had thereby become dispirited, the plot was lessening just as rapidly as if in full view from start to finish. And shortly after midday, the mowers walked up the last narrow strip, leaving the morning’s stint all laid.
“Now fur a chance at what victuals we fetched along. You go to the hay-boat, Josh, arter our pails, while Layn an’ me heap up some o’ this grass to set on whilst we’re eatin’.”
“Gi’ me a swaller fust,” replied Alibee; and after satisfying his thirst, he started for the hay-boat.
Ten minutes passed, and out of the fog came a voice, “Which way be yer? How fur be I frum the boat?”
“This way o’ you, an’ to the nuthard,” replied Raner. “Don’t you hear the surf to suthard o’ you?”
Groping about a little longer, he found the boat and soon came out of the fog with the dinner pails.
The mowers, to state it as they would, lost no time in falling to. Their fare was plain—plainer, indeed, than was usual at home. But though plain, the labor near the sea had whet their appetites, and they ate with keener relish than at their own tables. Then, too, the jug came in and played its part rather more freely than it would have done at home. They talked of the morning’s work, and discussed the probabilities of cutting the rest of the meadow that afternoon and getting away for home before sundown.
“We ain’t laid but little more’n a third on it,” remarked Layn. “It’s my opinion we’ll hev to stay here on the Beach all night, an’ cut the balance ’arly to-morrer mornin’. Then, ef thar’s any wind, we kin reach Squasux landin’ middle forenoon.”
“Thet’s the idee exac’ly,” replied Josh. “Tek it easy this arternoon, quit work arly, an’ I’ll hev a chance to git a bunch o’ snipe. We kin git home at noon to-morrer at thet rate, jist ez easy ez you kin toss up yer hat.”
“What ’o you say ’bout it, Raner?” asked Layn.