On the morning of the third day, shortly after eight bells, a cry that the boat was sighted came down from Smoke at the masthead.All hands lined the rail.A snappy breeze was blowing from the west with the promise of more wind behind it; and there, to leeward, in the troubled silver of the rising sun, appeared and disappeared a black speck.
We squared away and ran for it.My heart was as lead.felt myself turning sick in anticipation; and as I looked at the gleam of triumph in Wolf Larsen's eyes, his form swam before me and I felt almost irresistibly impelled to fling myself upon him.So unnerved was I by the thought of impending violence to Leach and Johnson that my reason must have left me.I know that I slipped down into the steerage in a daze, and that I was just beginning the ascent to the deck, a loaded shot-gun in my hands, when I heard the startled cry:
"There's five men in that boat!"
I supported myself in the companionway, weak and trembling, while the observation was being verified by the remarks of the rest of the men.Then my knees gave from under me and I sank down, myself again, but overcome by shock at knowledge of what I had so nearly done.Also, I was very thankful as I put the gun away and slipped back on deck.
No one had remarked my absence.The boat was near enough for us to make out that it was larger than any sealing boat and built on different lines.
As we drew closer, the sail was taken in and the mast unstepped.Oars were shipped, and its occupants waited for us to heave to and take them aboard.
Smoke, who had descended to the deck and was now standing by my side, began to chuckle in a significant way.I looked at him inquiringly.
"Talk of a mess!" he giggled.
"What's wrong?" I demanded.
Again he chuckled.
"Don't you see there, in the stern-sheets, on the bottom.May I never shoot a seal again if that ain't a woman!"I looked closely, but was not sure until exclamations broke out on all sides.The boat contained four men, and its fifth occupant was certainly a woman.We were agog with excitement, all except Wolf Larsen, who was too evidently disappointed in that it was not his own boat with the two victims of his malice.
We ran down the flying jib, hauled the jib-sheets to windward and the main sheet flat, and came up into the wind.The oars struck the water, and with a few strokes the boat was alongside.I now caught my first fair glimpse of the woman.She was wrapped in a long ulster, for the morning was raw; and I could see nothing but her face and a mass of light brown hair escaping from under the seaman's cap on her head.The eyes were large and brown and lustrous, the mouth sweet and sensitive, and the face itself a delicate oval, though sun and exposure to briny wind had burnt the face scarlet.
She seemed to me like a being from another world.I was aware of a hungry outreaching for her, as of a starving man for bread.But then, I had not seen a woman for a very long time.I know that I was lost in a great wonder, almost a stupor, -- this, then, was a woman? -- so that I forgot myself and my mate's duties, and took no part in helping the newcomers aboard.
For when one of the sailors lifted her into Wolf Larsen's down-stretched arms, she looked up into our curious faces and smiled amusedly and sweetly, as only a woman can smile, and as I had seen no one smile for so long that I had forgotten such smiles existed.
"Mr.Van Weyden!"
Wolf Larsen's voice brought me sharply back to myself.
"Will you take the lady below and see to her comfort? Make up that spare port cabin.Put Cooky to work on it.And see what you can do for that face.
It's burned badly."
He turned brusquely away from us and began to question the new men.
The boat was cast adrift, though one of them called it a "bloody shame"with Yokohama so near.
