That was land over there! It was a million miles off. How did one get so far? To be sure, one swam! He shook his head feebly. One couldn't swim, one would have to let go the boat! He forgot all about the land far a very long time. When he remembered it again with a start it was much nearer, very much nearer. He saw individual trees, knew they were trees. Branches held out their arms to him. Though swimming, was impossible it was no longer wholly ridiculous. He remembered doing it himself. He even remembered learning swimming. He had won a race as a boy in Vermont.
"To be sure," said Quin. The current swept him closer in shore. Something touched his feet. He drew them up sharply and shuddered. Pete was down there somewhere. Oh, yes, but he was dead! Dead men were disagreeable, especially when they had been drowned and not recovered for days in hot weather. He touched bottom again. It was very muddy. It was easy to get stuck in mud. One could drown in it.
"Why, I may be drowned yet," said Quin. It was very surprising to think of!
"No, I won't be drowned," said Quin. "I'll hang on to this boat. Why not?"
Nevertheless the water was cold. It came down from the mountains, from much further off than Caribou and from the Eagle Range. There was snow there.
"I am cold," said Quin. "I ought to get ashore."
The boat itself touched a mud-bank. Quin felt bottom again and just as he was deciding to let go the boat swung off. Quin cried and was very angry.
"I'll do it next time," said Quin. But he didn't. He was afraid to let go. And yet the shore was very close. Once more the boat touched and his feet were quite firm in the mud. But there was a bottom six inches down. He thought he prayed to something, to God perhaps, and then he saw the boat swing away from him. He was quite alone and very solitary. To lose the boat was like losing one's home. He staggered and fell flailing and found bottom with his hands. He hung to the very earth, but was dizzy. He waited quite a while to be sure of himself and then scrambled with infinite and most appalling labour to the shore. His limbs were as heavy as death, as lead. He dragged them after him. He ached.
But at last he came out on the land.
It was earth: he had got there. Was there ever in all human experience such a pleasant spot to lie down on, to sleep in? He just knew there wasn't. He forgot he was wet, that he was cold, that Pete was dead, that he was alive, and he went on his knees and scrabbled like a tired beast at the ground. And then he went to sleep, holding himself with his arms and making strange comfortable little noises.