6 



Softly Comes the Dawn 



QBasque^ 



THE LITTLE SHALLOP with harpooner Jean Echeverrey 

 alert in the prow and Philippe Sansterre at the steering oar 

 draws slowly away from the towering side of the wallowing cara- 

 vel. The ten sturdy men manning the oars pull hard in perfect uni- 

 son born of half a lifetime of experience, so that the little open boat 

 gains momentum and cuts through the choppy waves. And from 

 various distances up to three miles away, and from various directions 

 in a rough half circle, six other Httle white boats also set out, and 

 move slowly towards a certain place upon the open bosom of the 

 ocean. 



For once all is silence aboard the caravel except for the slow 

 roll of the loose gear below in rhythmic phase with the easy squeak- 

 ing of taut rigging pulled by swinging yardarms. Not one of the 

 whole company of fifty-odd souls remaining aboard speaks or even 

 moves. The mariners crowd the high bulwarks, their tousled heads 

 surmounted by an assortment of greasy caps, and their bearded 

 faces just appearing over the rail, while on the towering poop the 



