e presence, and even the
bearing, of a hunted U-boat. I will tell you shortly how it figured in
this particular instance.

"That wake was swirling up so strong when we struck it that it was plain
the submarine was still only on the way down, and it was no surprise
when, a few seconds later, the distinct form of it was visible, close
aboard under the starboard side of the bridge.

"I don't mean that it was distinct in the sense that you could see
details such as the bow or stern rudders, or even the conning-tower, but
only that a moving cigar-shaped blob of darker green could be plainly
made out. The for'ard end was rather more sharply defined than the
after, probably because the swirl from the propellers made uneven
refraction about the tail. It was doubtless a good deal deeper than it
looked, and the fact that it could be seen at all must have been almost
entirely due to the fact that the absence of wind left the surface quite
unrippled.

"The appearance of the submarine abreast the bridge was our cue to get
busy, and I won't need to tell you that we went to it good and plenty.
We were primed for just that kind of an emergency, and we slapped down a
barrage in a way that looked more like chucking coppers for kids to
scramble after than the really scientific planting of high explosives
that it was. For a minute or two the little old _Sherill_, dancing down
the up-tossed peaks of the explosions, jolted along like the canoe you
are dragging over a 'corduroyed' portage. Then the going grew smooth
again, and under a hard-over right rudder we turned back rejoicing to
gather in the sheaves. Yes, it looked quite as simple as harvesting on
the old home farm, and it didn't seem that there could be anything left
to do but to go back and pick up with the rake what the mower had
brought low. And so it would have been on an ordinary occasion, which,
unluckily, this was not. From the first to last, indeed, it was quite
the contrary.

"The whole map of that little opening brush was spread out before us as
we came back, and almost as clearly, for the moment, as though modelled
in coloured clay. The _Sherill's_ wake, though it had obliterated that
of the submarine, coincided with the tell-tale swirl of the latter we
had followed, while the round patches of spreading foam made the
dizzily dancing buoys temporarily superfluous as markers of the spots
where the depth-charges had exploded. Like every other story that is
writ in water,