A COLD FOWLING CRUISE 209 



of the yawl flying up into the wind almost before I had 

 time to free the jib-sheet. Once, and only once, did 

 our keel touch ground. It was a case of touch and go, 

 however, and a big sigh of relief escaped the lips of the 

 captain as we drew clear of the ugly cross-seas which 

 were running over the sands, and once more entered the 

 deeper water of the fairway. 



Gilson, having almost run us on a lee-shore, was 

 ordered, in no measured terms, to go forward and keep 

 a look-out for the low- way buoy, which marks the en- 

 trance to Leigh swatchway. 



The frost seemed to harden with the gale, and the 

 decks, sails, and rigging were covered with ice. Indeed, 

 no sooner did a shower of spray or rush of green water 

 come in over the rail than it was immediately trans- 

 formed into ice by the magic touch of the " Wizard of 

 the North." 



Suddenly a cry of " Luff, sir ! luff, for God's sake ! " 

 came from the look-out man, and the next moment I 

 caught a momentary glimpse of a huge buoy, which 

 almost scraped the yacht's quarter as she luffed to 

 avoid it. 



" Thundering good thing Gilson sighted that chap in 

 time, or hanged if we shouldn't have been smashed into 

 matchwood," quietly remarked the captain as he brushed 

 away sundry icicles from his moustache. " But," added 

 he, " let go your jib-sheets, for that was the low-way 

 buoy." 



Round spun the gallant little ship, and twenty 



