p the grapnel and hoisted
the sail again. Inshore they scarcely felt the wind but, as soon as
they made out a couple of miles from the land, they felt that it
was blowing hard.

"We won't go any farther out. Dick, lay the boat's head to the west
again. I will hold the sheet while you steer, and then I can let
the sail fly, if a stronger gust than usual strikes us. Sit well
over this side."

[Illustration: 'She is walking along now.']

"She is walking along now," Ryan said joyously. "I had no idea that
sailing was as jolly as it is."

They sped along all day and, before noon, had passed Bilbao. As the
afternoon wore on the wind increased in force, and the clouds began
to pass rapidly overhead, from the southeast.

"We had better get her in to the shore," Terence said. "Even with
this scrap of sail, we keep on taking the water in on that lower
side. I expect Santander lies beyond that point that runs out ahead
of us, and we will land somewhere this side of it."

But as soon as they turned the boat's head towards the shore, and
hauled in the sheet as tightly as they could, they found that, try
as they would, they could not get her to lie her course.

"We sha'n't make the point at all," Terence said, half an hour
after they had changed the course. "Besides, we have been nearly
over, two or three times. I dare say fellows who understood a boat
well could manage it but, if we hold on like this, we shall end by
drowning ourselves. I think the best plan will be to lower the sail
and mast, and row straight to shore."

"I quite agree with you," Ryan said. "Sailing is pleasant enough in
a fair wind, but I cannot say I care for it, as it is now."

With some difficulty, for the sea was getting up, they lowered the
sail and mast and, getting out the oars, turned her head straight
for the shore. Both were accustomed to rowing in still water, but
they found that this was very different work. After struggling at
the oars for a couple of hours, they both agreed that they were a
good deal farther away from the land than when they began.

"It is of no use, Dick," Terence said. "If we cannot make against
the wind while we are fresh, we certainly cannot do so when we are
tired; and my arms feel as if they would come out of their
sockets."

"So do mine," Ryan said, with a groan. "I am aching all over, and
both my hands are raw with this rough handle. What are we to do,
then, Terence?"

"There is nothing to do that I can see,