4 



35? O/dMo/fs 

 Challenge 



as we luffed in a smother of spray, and 

 dragged him aboard, like an enormous frog, 

 at the end of the jib sheet — and it was he 

 who now stood at the wheel of our little 

 schooner and took her careening in through 

 the tickle of Harbor Woe. There, in a deso- 

 late, rock-bound refuge on the Newfoundland 

 coast, the Wild Duck swung to her anchor, 

 veering nervously in the tide rip, tugging 

 impatiently and clanking her chains as if 

 eager to be out again in the turmoil. At 

 sunset the gale blew itself out, and presently 

 the moon wheeled full and clear over the 

 dark mountains. 



Noel, my big Indian, was curled up asleep 

 in a caribou skin by the foremast; and the 

 crew were all below asleep, every man glad 

 in his heart to be once more safe in a snug 

 harbor. All about us stretched the desolate 

 wastes of sea and mountains, over which 

 silence and darkness brooded, as over the 

 first great chaos. Near at hand were the 

 black rocks, eternally wet and smoking with 

 the fog and gale ; beyond towered the ice- 

 bergs, pale, cold, glittering like spires of 



