A DARING DSHD. 71
Island was the eternal subject; sometimes hope was high and some-
times we were dekyed in a bad crossing, and down it went again.
For hours all hands lay under the burden of this suppressed excite-
ment; it was even communicated to me, and I got to feeling so
solicitous about Hat Island, and under such an awful pressure of re
sponsibility, that I wished I might have five minutes on shore to draw
a good, full, relieving breath, and start over again. We were standing
no regular watches. Each of our pilots ran such portions of the river
as he had run when coming up-stream, because of his greater familiarity
with it; but both remained in the pilot-house constantly.
An hour before sunset, Mr. Bixby took the wheel and Mr. W------
stepped aside. For the next thirty minutes every man held his
watch in his hand and was restless, silent, and uneasy. At last some-
body said, with a doomful sigh—
( Well, yonder's Hat Island—and we can't make it.'
All the watches closed with a snap, everybody sighed and muttered
something about its being f too bad, too bad—ah, if we could ordy
have got here half an hour sooner J' and the place was thick with the
atmosphere of disappointment. Some started to go out, but loitered,
hearing no bell-tap to land. The sun dipped behind the horizon, the
boat went on. Inquiring looks passed from one guest to another;
and one who had his hand on the door-knob and had turned it, waited,
then presently took away his hand and let the knob turn back again.
We bore steadily down the bend. More looks were exchanged,
and nods of surprised admiration—but no words. Insensibly the
men drew together behind Mr. Bixby, as the sky darkened and one
or two dim stars came out. The dead silence and sense of waiting
became oppressive. Mr. Bixby pulled the cord, and two deep, mellow
notes from the big bell floated off on the night. Then a pause, and
one more note was struck. The watchman's voice followed, from the
hurricane deck—
' Labboard lead, there ! Stabboard lead !'
The cries of the leadsmen began to rise out of the distance, and
were gruffly repeated by the word-passers on the hurricane deck.
* M-a-r-k three I .... M-a-r-k three! .... Quarter-less three !
.... Half twain! . . . . Quarter twain 1 .... M-a-r-k twain I
.... Quarter-less------'