The moon was so bright I could a counted the drift logs that went a-slipping along, black and still, hundreds of yards out from shore.

Everything was dead quiet, and it looked late, and SMELT late.
You know what I mean--I don't know the words to put it in.
I took a good gap and a stretch, and was just going to unhitch and start when I heard a sound away over the water.

I listened.

Pretty soon I made it out.

It was that dull kind of a regular sound that comes from oars working in rowlocks when it's a still night.