Appleby nodded, and the man glanced towards the swaying trees and the little streaks of froth that showed white against the dimness out at sea. "It's a tolerably big contract," he said reflectively. "You've got to go?"
"Yes," said Appleby. "If you knew what our mate was like you wouldn't ask that question."
The Canadian laughed. "I figure I can guess," he said. "Well, now, you pull up well to windward along the shore where you'll get less breeze and smoother water, and when it strikes you you're far enough to head her across pull fit to split your boots—but don't miss her."
Appleby saw it was good advice, and did his best to follow it, but his back was aching and his arms were stiff; while when Niven missed a stroke, which he did not infrequently, the wind drove them a trifle further off shore before they could pull the gig's head round again. She had been built for four men to row, and while they would have no difficulty in propelling her in smooth water it was different when with the wind against them every little lurch checked her speed. Still, they toiled for half-an-hour or so, making no great progress that Appleby who watched the trees ashore could see, until Niven groaned.
"I'm almost done," he said. "If you don't head across soon I'll double up before we fetch the Aldebaran."
Appleby glanced at the shore, and then at the barque's riding light blinking fitfully half-a-mile away.
It was no great distance, but the breeze that blew slantwise off the shore would be on their side while they headed for her, and if the boat made much leeway they could not reach her. Nor did he fancy they would have the strength to drive the gig back to windward if they once drifted astern of her.
"Shake yourself together, Chriss, and we'll make a shot at it," he said.
Niven said nothing, but he bent his back, and for ten minutes they strained every sinew while the boat lurched and plunged on the little splashing sea as they drew out from the land. Cold as it was the perspiration dripped from them, and the oars slipped in their greasy palms, while both were gasping when a haze of smoke that blotted out everything drove down upon them.
"Head her up a little," said Appleby when the blinking light faded. "Put all you're good for into it, and row. There's nothing but the Pacific before us if we miss the Aldebaran."