It came upon them both like a shock, the terrible thought that they were lost on that wild sea, and in a fog so dense that they could not see fifty feet in any direction. Each saw by the other’s face what he was thinking, but neither of them had the heart to put the thought into words. “I don’t suppose," said Breeze, at length breaking the silence, “that there’s any use in rowing so long as we don’t know in which direction the schooner lies." “No,” replied Wolfe, “I don’t suppose there is. We had better make a drogue and get it overboard, to hold her to the wind and keep her from drifting as much as possible. Then we’ll fix ourselves as comfortable as we can, until the fog lifts and we can catch sight of the schooner again.” Neither of them would admit in words that they did not expect the fog to lift shortly, and that the schooner would still be in sight when this happened. They both knew, however, that it might enshroud them for days, and that they had but a slight chance of ever seeing the _Vixen_ again. They made a “drogue,” or drag, by fastening an end of the buoy rope to the bow of the dory, and the other to a couple of their trawl tubs, which they then dropped overboard with the trawl anchor attached, to serve as a weight. The tubs filled and sank until their upper edges were on a level with the surface of the water. In this position they acted as a floating anchor to the dory, which tailed off from them at once and rode head on to the wind and sea. “Stow the oars snugly,” said Wolfe; “we must not lose them whatever happens. Then, I suppose we might as well toss the rest of these fish overboard, though it seems a pity, doesn’t it?” “Yes, and I’m afraid we’ll be sorry for it when we get back to the schooner; but here goes,” and Breeze began to toss the fish overboard vigorously. When this job was finished, and the dory rode the seas much more easily than she had done, Wolfe said, “Now that you’ve made things snug and ship-shape, old man, will you help me a bit with this beastly hook? It’s hurting me more than a little.” “Oh!” cried Breeze in a tone of pitying remorse. “Why didn’t you speak of it sooner? It was awful to leave it in there all this time.” “Had too much else on hand. It couldn’t get away, and I knew we’d find it right there whenever we got ready to attend to it,” said Wolfe, with an attempt to relieve the anxiety of his friend by making light of his own sufferings. Each of these two brave young spirits was intent upon presenting a cheerful front to the other, while hiding its own anxiety and forebodings, but neither of them was for a moment deceived as to the nature of their situation.