“I say, Bruce,” said Bart, “you’d better not pull so hard at first; you’ll tire yourself.” “O, it’s only till we get further from the schooner. I want to get well out of the reach of hearing before the fellows see us. I’ll take it easy after a time.” Saying this, he pulled on, watching the schooner, and succeeded in getting so far away, that by the time they came on deck he could only distinguish the moving figures. Then he slackened his efforts somewhat. “There isn’t a bit of prospect of any wind,” said he. “I tell you what it is, my boy: I’d far rather be here this minute than aboard the Antelope.” “So would I,” said Bart; “but can you imagine the state of mind that the fellows must be in?” “O, they’ll be glad after the first excitement’s over.” “I wonder if they saw us.” “Of course.” “They didn’t shout, or anything.” “We were too far off to hear them.” “No, we weren’t; but I suppose we were so far off that they thought it would do no good.” For about half an hour Bruce pulled quite leisurely, for he wished to husband his strength as much as possible, and then Bart took his turn at the oars. Not much was said, partly because the exertion of rowing did not allow of any prolonged conversation, and partly because they were too much filled with their own thoughts, arising out of the suspense of the occasion. At length, after rowing for another half hour, Bart handed the oars to Bruce, and took his seat in the stern. The moment he did so he uttered a cry of surprise. “What’s the matter?” asked Bruce. “Why, how near we’re getting!” said Bart. “Of course we are.” “I haven’t looked since I took the oars, on purpose to see what our progress is. And now--why, really, Bruce, it seems as if we must be half way already.” “Of course we are,” said Bruce, “and more too.” “Why, she’s as low in the water as ever.” “I know; there’s something queer about her.” “She looks as though she’d been in a heavy gale.” “She must have been.” “I don’t see a soul on board.” “I haven’t seen any one, either.” “Perhaps no one is up yet. It’s early, you know.” “I hope it’s that,” said Bruce. Bart was silent for a few moments. At length he said,-- “I should like to see some signs of life there, I must say.” “Well, we’ll know all about her by the time you’re through your next pull.” Bruce now rowed, and Bart sat with his eyes fixed on the ship. She still lay as low in the water as ever, but they could see her bulwarks plainly, and her cabins. Her rigging seemed as disordered as ever, and it was a puzzle to Bart, why, in this calm weather, she should be so neglected. Various unpleasant thoughts arose in his mind, but he kept-them to himself. Thus the time passed, and Bruce rowed, and the boat drew steadily nearer. At length he gave the oars over to Bart, and took his seat in the stern.