But Anazeh had presence of mind.

He changed helm, so as to present us end-on to the shore.
Low in the water though the boat was, we were beginning to make good headway.
The Sikhs lost no time.

Shots began to whizz overhead and to splash the water around us.

But the boat was painted gray; as we increased the distance we must have looked like a moving patch of darker water with a puzzling wake behind us.

The sea was still.