"Not to be considered," he laughed. "We simply must be in luck, or it's
all up with us."

He had the wheel at the time, and I went forward to my hospital in the
forecastle, where lay the two crippled men, Nilson and Thomas Mugridge.
Nilson was as cheerful as could be expected, for his broken leg was
knitting nicely; but the Cockney was desperately melancholy, and I was
aware of a great sympathy for the unfortunate creature. And the marvel
of it was that still he lived and clung to life. The brutal years had
reduced his meagre body to splintered wreckage, and yet the spark of life
within burned brightly as ever.

"With an artificial foot--and they make excellent ones--you will be
stumping ships' galleys to the end of time," I assured him jovially.

But his answer was serious, nay, solemn. "I don't know about wot you
s'y, Mr. Van W'yden, but I do know I'll never rest 'appy till I see that
'ell-'ound bloody well dead. 'E cawn't live as long as me. 'E's got no
right to live, an' as the Good Word puts it, ''E shall shorely die,' an'
I s'y, 'Amen, an' damn soon at that.'"

When I returned on deck I found Wolf Larsen steering mainly with one
hand, while with the other hand he held the marine glasses and studied
the situation of the boats, paying particular attention to the position
of the _Macedonia_. The only change noticeable in our boats was that
they had hauled close on the wind and were heading several points west of
north. Still, I could not see the expediency of the manoeuvre, for the
free sea was still intercepted by the _Macedonia's_ five weather boats,
which, in turn, had hauled close on the wind. Thus they slowly diverged
toward the west, drawing farther away from the remainder of the boats in
their line. Our boats were rowing as well as sailing. Even the hunters
were pulling, and with three pairs of oars in the water they rapidly
overhauled what I may appropriately term the enemy.

The smoke of the _Macedonia_ had dwindled to a dim blot on the
north-eastern horizon. Of the steamer herself nothing was to be seen.
We had been loafing along, till now, our sails shaking half the time and
spilling the wind; and twice, for short periods, we had been hove to.
But there was no more loafing. Sheets were trimmed, and Wolf Larsen
proceeded to put the _Ghost_ through her paces. We ran past our line of
boats and bore down upon the first weather boat of the other line.

"Down that flying jib, Mr. Van Weyden