Swept Out to Sea / Or, Clint Webb Among the Whalers

cted Comedy Prov

sted for assault, to openly make an attack upon either my boat or myself. But his money could bribe suc

ng to do her some harm, and find me there all ready for such a visitation. I chuckled to myself while I wended my way to

uld have had trouble in finding her. It was the darkest kind of a night and it did blow great guns! The rain pelted as sharp as hail and before I got half way to the slo

t sure that it is natural perseverance in my case, but fear that I am more often asham

ence of the tender. Therefore I snubbed the nose of the rowboat up short to the float, and then, after getting into the bows of t

rew curtains before all the lights and then lit the lamp over the cabin table. There were four berths, two on each side, wi

ter was with the tide. Any craft could sail out of Bolderhead harbor this night with both gale and sea in its favor; but heaven h

of the berth, and so took off my outer clothing and lay down to read. I did not think that the lamplight could be seen from wi

ears the bucking of the Wavecrest as she tugged at her cable, put me to s

now at the moment of my awakening; but suddenly something bump

are! Now fo

was going to put my head out of the cabin and sca

not announce the arrival of the enemy. Almost instantly-I had not got

s were knocking to arouse me. Then it shot across my bew

bawled, getting interested i

be considered as such. Several long nails-twenty-penny, I was sure-were driven home. T

p tightly in the cabin of my boat. I was mad 'way through; instead of playing

in, not only for the night, but until somebody passing in a boat would see me signalling from the tiny deadl

got into their boat. Then-in half a minute, perhaps-there was a startling change in the sloop's action.

pened. The cable had parted

en-I admit it. And I earnestly believe that almost any other pe

out toward the broad ocean, while one was nailed up in the cabin and unable to do a thing toward

was moored, I had increased the strain upon it. I should have thrown out a stern anchor as well when I cam

ment. If she turned turtle, what would become of me? The air in the cabin was already foul. If she turned topsyturvy,

a that one's brain could work so rapidly. A hundred possible happenings, arising from my si

ith the tide, and began to hobble over the seas at a great rate. I had dressed completely ere this, and was trying my best to o

was fastened on the outside too. I was a prisoner in my own boat and she was be