“Give way,” he roared, and as the crew bent to their oars, he swept the tiny boat around. In another moment the little craft was racing before the tempest, tossing wildly, but thanks to the oil film, riding buoyantly and safely. Rapidly the Empress and the Lycoming fell astern. Soon they were lost to sight. Above the life-boat the night was inky black. About her the waters heaved and roared. Ahead of her lay the wild sea, with its awful waves and its fearful, crashing combers.
CHAPTER XVII
LAND AHEAD!
On rushed the little craft. Aboard the Lycoming the seas had seemed terrible. To Roy, in an open boat, they were stupefying in their awfulness. No power of imagination could conjure up anything so terrific as this hellish welter of water. It hissed and seethed and roared and tumbled. It boiled up in fury. It was paralyzing in its awfulness. It benumbed mind and body. Terrified, aghast, Roy huddled down in his seat. Then he thought of the captain. His courage came back. The blood again coursed through his veins. He gripped his oar and bent to his task with a will. He did not believe he would ever reach the shore. But if he were to die, he meant to die like a man. He thought of the wireless operator on the Comal who had bidden him good luck even as he was drifting to what seemed certain death. Roy took a last look at the Empress. “Good luck!” he shouted, then bent to his oar.
The wind snatched the words out of his mouth. The man beside him did not know he had spoken. The clamor of the elements drowned all other sounds. Conversation was impossible. The mate at the stern could not make his orders heard. There was nothing to do but sit tight and row. That helped to steady the boat.
On they went. Now they were down in the trough of a wave. Now they were on a mountainous crest. Thanks to the oil slick, no water came aboard. But the edge of the oil film was near at hand. Straight ahead of them Roy knew the waves were breaking with awful violence. Soon they would be among those unbridled crests. Let but one of them come toppling down upon the little boat and all would be over. Roy gritted his teeth at the thought. “At any rate I’ll die game,” he muttered.
The life-boat mounted upward. Up and up it climbed on the slope of a huge comber. It reached the top.
“Lights ahead!” cried the mate, who was facing forward. “Lights ahead!”