O'Shea pushed the boat boldly on, and they made their journey
with comparative ease until, when they came near the channel made by the
steamship, they found the ice lying more closely, and the difficulty of
their progress increased.
Work as they would, they were getting on but slowly. The light wind blew
past their faces, and the Gaspe schooner was seen to sail up the path
which the steamer had made across the bay.
"The wind's in the very chink that makes her able to take the channel.
I'm thinking she'll be getting in before us."
O'Shea spoke with the gay indifference of one who had staked nothing on
the hope of getting to the harbour first; but Caius wondered if this
short cut would have been undertaken without strong reason.
A short period of hard exertion, of pushing and pulling the bits of ice,
followed, and then:
"I'm thinking we'll make the channel, any way, before she comes by, and
then we'll just hail her, and the happy bridegroom can come off if he's
so moinded, being in the hurry that he is. 'Tain't many bridegrooms that
makes all the haste he has to jine the lady."
Caius said nothing; the subject was too horrible.
"Ye and yer bags could jist go on board the ship before the loving
husband came off; ye'd make the harbour that way as easy, and I'm
thinking the ice on the other side of the bay is that thick ye'd be
scared and want me to sit back in my boat and yelp for help, like a
froightened puppy dog, instead of making the way through.
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