Skookie also was plainly nervous. They rushed the dory from its moorings, and all taking oars and paddles, gave way strongly as they could. At that time there were no waves of consequence, only a long, slow motion like the pulse of the sea which came down from the outer mouth of great Kaludiak Bay. The wind had not yet risen, although steadily the twilight seemed to thicken.
For three-quarters of an hour they made good progress. Then they noticed that their boat began to pitch a little, and small, choppy waves raced by. A strong slant of wind was coming down from another valley farther toward the mouth of the bay, opposite which they passed, when they left at one side the long spit of land which had served as shelter to their part of the inner bay.
Evidently the wind was freshening. A fine spindrift settled on the farther side of the bay, so that at times their own shore was cut out from view for many moments. Night, too, was now coming. Without a word the boys bent to their oars, thoroughly alarmed. Rob and Skookie were perhaps the calmest of the four, and Rob undertook to do what he could to encourage his companions.
“One thing you want to remember, boys,” said he, “and that is that one of these dories will stand almost as much sea as a ship, if you handle her right. We’ll keep her quartering into the waves, and will keep on rowing all night if we have to. Never mind where we strike the shore on the other side—we won’t try to come out just at our camp. I only hope we can make it above the mouth of our creek, because if we go below that point we might drift twenty miles, clear to the far end of the bay. Don’t pull too hard now and get fagged, but keep up a steady lick. Jesse, you’d better get in the stem and let John and Skookie each pull an oar. I’ll take the other pair. Get your tin pail ready, Jesse, and if we take in any water, keep it bailed out the best you can.”
The others were plucky, although every one was anxious. The little crew kept sturdily at the oars, facing what was a situation serious enough to daunt even the strongest men. These Alaskan storms are dangerous even to the most powerful vessels, and no coast in the world has a longer record of shipwreck and lost vessels of which no trace ever is found.
When once fairly out in the middle of the bay, the boys got a notion of the power of the sea such as they never before had known in their lives and thought never again to repeat. Clouds now obscured the sky. The wind increased steadily, coming in directly from the mouth of the great bay, and bringing with it all the power of the mighty Pacific Ocean. As these young adventurers looked over their shoulders it was a truly terrifying spectacle which met their gaze.
In steady succession, a few moments apart, there came down into the bay, apparently reaching from side to side across it, long black hills of water, great, roller-like waves which did not break but came in black and oily. Each one, as it towered above the little boat, seemed about to engulf it, but in some way the splendid little dory found its way up the side and across the crest; and then they would see the great, silent black hill of water swing on into the bay and pass out of sight, only to be followed by another. The wind was not yet strong enough to break the tops of the waves, and fortunately the tide was coming in, so that there were no rips, which would surely have swamped their little craft.
“Keep on pulling, boys!” cried Rob. “We’re doing finely. She rides these big waves like a duck. She’s a splendid boat!”
Skookie did not say anything, but once in a while cast an anxious eye toward the head of the bay.