The reason for this haste was to
prevent more sideways drifting, for the schooner was drifting with the
wind against the floating ice amongst which O'Shea's boat was lying. The
wind blew very softly; her speed when sailing had not been great, and
the drifting motion was the most gentle possible.
Caius had not taken his eyes from the boat. He was watching the strength
with which Le Maitre was turning her and starting her for Cloud Island.
He was watching O'Shea, who, still giving back chaff and sarcasm to the
men on the schooner, was forced to turn and pick up the smaller pole
which Caius had relinquished; he seemed to be interested only in his
talk, and to begin to help in the management of the boat mechanically.
The skipper was swearing at his men and shouting to O'Shea with
alternate breath. The sails of the schooner had hardly yet swelled with
the breeze when O'Shea, bearing with all his might against a bit of ice,
because of a slip of his pole, fell heavily on the side of his own boat,
tipping her suddenly over on a bit of ice that sunk with her weight. Le
Maitre, at the prow, in the violent upsetting, was seen to fall headlong
between two bits of ice into the sea.
"By----! Did you ever see anything like that?" The skipper of the
schooner had run to the nearest point, which was beside Caius.
Then followed instantly a volley of commands, some of which related to
throwing ropes to the small boat, some concerning the movement of the
schooner, for at this moment her whole side pressed against all the bits
of ice, pushing them closer and closer together.
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