“Then perhaps if you take the two oars we shall go straighter,” said the Count.
To this the Baron objected, as he had no desire to undertake all the labour of the voyage. Somehow or other they managed, notwithstanding, to get to a distance from Marken: perhaps the tide was carrying them along in the direction of the Helder; that this was the case, however, did not occur to them. They saw the land clearly enough stretching out to the westward: there lay Monnickendam, there Edam, and, further to the south, Uitdam. “Experience makes perfect:” after some time they did manage to row in a fashion.
“I think we must be approaching the shore,” observed the Count. “It looks nearer than it did.”
“So it ought, since we have been rowing with might and main for the last two hours,” said the Baron, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “I wish that we had waited at Marken till we should have found a passage on board some vessel, or obtained the assistance of one of the islanders; this is heavy work, especially as we have come away without provisions.”
“So we have,” cried the Count. “Oh dear! oh dear! If we ever reach the shore, I shall be very much inclined to register a vow never again to tempt the stormy ocean.”
“Regrets are useless at present; let us get to the shore,” said the Baron.
But they rowed and rowed away in vain. Evening was approaching, and, though they had enjoyed a good breakfast, they were desperately hungry, and there appeared every probability that they would have to spend the night on the water. Fortunately it was calm, or they would have been in a still worse condition. Looking up, they at length saw an island, or a point of land with a tower on it.
“That must be one of the places on the coast,” observed the Count; “let us try to reach it.”
“But if we sit with our backs to the bows, as we have been hitherto doing, we shall not see it,” observed the Baron. “Let us stand up and row forward; then, perhaps, we shall go straighter than we have been doing.”
The Count agreed, and they rowed thus for some time.