"Ay, ay, sir!" responded the blue-jackets.
"Stern, all!" continued Somers, when he had carefully observed the sweep of the last wave.
The oarsmen backed water, and the boat moved towards the shore, stern foremost. In a moment she was lifted up by a great billow and swept furiously towards the beach.
"Steady!" said Somers, gazing forward over the heads of the men, watching the approach of the next foam-crested wave.
The men were entirely cool, and their iron muscles held the boat under perfect control. A huge roller was coming in, fiercely, rapidly, at double or triple the speed of the whale-boat, and the first great peril of the surf was at hand.
The danger was, as our inexperienced readers may not understand, that the stern of the boat, suddenly struck by the swift-flying wave, would be lifted high in air, and the bow forced under; or that the boat would broach to, and be rolled over in the sea. In either case the boat would be swamped, and eventually be stove on the beach. Somers saw one of these rushing billows coming down with frightful velocity upon the whale-boat.
"Oars!" cried he; and the men ceased backing her.
"Give way!" he added, with an energy which was at once communicated to the muscles of the men; and they pulled steadily, as a well-disciplined crew always does, but with a firmness and strength which caused the boat to dart forward towards the savage roller.
She met the billow; her bow rose upon it; she passed over without being ingulfed by it.
"Oars! Hold water! Stern, all!" continued the young officer; and again the whale-boat moved towards the shore.