ls and made her fly.
Davies was getting six fathom casts, till, just as suddenly as it had
deepened, the water shoaled--ten feet, six, three, one--the dinghy
grounded.

'Good!' said Davies. 'Back her off! Pull your right only.' The dinghy
spun round with her bow to N.N.W. 'Both arms together! Don't you
worry about the compass now; just pull, and listen for orders.
There's a tricky bit coming.'

He put aside the chart, kicked the lead under the seat, and, kneeling
on the dripping coils of line, sounded continuously with the butt-end
of the boat-hook, a stumpy little implement, notched at intervals of
a foot, and often before used for the same purpose. All at once I was
aware that a check had come, for the dinghy swerved and doubled like
a hound ranging after scent.

'Stop her,' he said, suddenly, 'and throw out the grapnel.'

I obeyed and we brought up, swinging to a slight current, whose
direction Davies verified by the compass. Then for half a minute he
gave himself up to concentrated thought. What struck me most about
him was that he never for a moment strained his eyes through the fog;
a useless exercise (for five yards or so was the radius of our
vision) which, however, I could not help indulging in, while I
rested. He made up his mind, and we were off again, straight and
swift as an arrow this time, and in water deeper than the boat-hook.
I could see by his face that he was taking some bold expedient whose
issue hung in the balance ... Again we touched mud, and the artist's
joy of achievement shone in his eyes. Backing away, we headed west,
and for the first time he began to gaze into the fog.

'There's one!' he snapped at last. 'Easy all!'

A boom, one of the usual upright saplings, glided out of the mist. He
caught hold of it, and we brought up.

'Rest for three minutes now,' he said. 'We're in fairly good time.'

It was 11.10. I ate some biscuits and took a nip of whisky while
Davies prepared for the next stage.

We had reached the eastern outlet of Memmert Balje, the channel which
runs east and west behind Juist Island, direct to the south point of
Memmert. How we had reached it was incomprehensible to me at the
time, but the reader will understand by comparing my narrative with
the dotted line on the chart. I add this brief explanation, that
Davies's method had been to cross the channel called the Buse Tief,
and strike the other side of it at a point well _south_ of the outlet
of the Memmert Balje