"I know, dearie, I know," he broke in gently. "I know how it hurts you--yes, more than it does me, far more; but it'll all come right presently, don't you fear." "But it does seem so hard, so very, very hard; and I was hoping so much----" "Put not your trust in the moon," he laughed cheerfully; then went on, "You must steer, Lolie, as we want Tari to row." The fact of being of some use seemed to hearten her considerably, and with a brighter face she took the steering-oar from the Kanaka. "You stroke us, Jack," proposed Benson. "'Xcuse me, boys, if my play with an oar is some wantin' in skill," observed the cowpuncher. "My eddication's been some neglected in rowin', an' I'm shore a tenderfoot at the game a whole lot." Then away they went, Jack setting a steady stroke and Broncho at the bow oar pulling all he knew, but splashing freely with the clumsiness of a novice. "I shore wishes this here were a paddle," he grunted. "I savvys paddles, but rowin' this-away comes plumb strange to me." "Shoo, man, you're doin' fine! Reg'lar Varsity h'oar, I calls yer; fit for a captain's gig," declared Bill. Jim, much against his wish, had been placed in reserve. The whaleboat pulled easily over the long swell, and though worn to a degree, the castaways dipped their oars with the energy of desperation. The blind stroke, drawing upon his wonderful reserve of strength, made the stout ash bend with his efforts, the man-of-war's man ably backing him up; whilst Tari, the indefatigable, pulled with the easy, untiring swing of the South Sea whale-hunter. The moisture glistened on their stern-set, resolute faces as the sun beat down upon them with an eye-wearying glare. The water rippled cheerily from the bends of the keen-lined boat, and swirled astern hissing and bubbling, whilst the ploughing oars churned up the calm depths of blue into a creamy yeast, leaving behind them at each stroke a miniature whirlpool, which seemed to move hastily away from the cruel blades, slicing their way so steadily through the transparency of the Pacific, and blurring its face as they drove the whaleboat onward. An enthusiasm in this desperate race raised the watching boy's spirits to a gay fearlessness, and he burst forth into a well-known snatch: "An' it's drill, ye tarriers, drill! For it's work all day, without sugar in ye tay, An' it's drill, ye tarriers, drill!" "That's the style, Jim!" jerked the blind stroke approvingly. "Let it rip! That's the medicine!" "Shore!" gasped Broncho. "An' here comes the dago diggin' out after us," cried Bill. "They're pipin' fust an' second cutters away aboard the pirateer." The _Black Adder_ had lowered two boats full of men, which now came dancing over the swell in chase of the whaleboat, for all the world like two bustling centipedes. "Jim serve out a cocoanut per man. Easy all, boys. Let's get our wind and a little refreshment, then we'll soon show 'em what we can do," said Jack, lying on his oar.