"I fear," Frank shouted to him as he climbed over the seat, "there is no chance whatever of making shore.

All we've got to do is to row steadily and keep her head dead to wind.

Two of us will do for that.
You and I will row now, and let Handcock and Jones steer and rest by turns.

Then when we are done up they can take our places." In another hour it was quite dark, save for the gray light from the foaming water around.

The wind was blowing stronger than ever, and it required the greatest care on the part of the steersman to keep her dead in the eye of the wind.