FOR TWO DAYS MAUD AND I ranged the sea and explored the beaches in search of the missing masts. But it was not till the third day that we found them, all of them, the shears¹ included, and, of all perilous² places, in the pounding surf of the grim southwestern promontory³. And how we worked! At the dark end of the first day we returned, exhausted⁴, to our little cove⁵, towing the mainmast behind us. And we had been compelled to row, in a dead calm, virtually every inch of the way.

 Another day of heartbreaking and dangerous toil⁶ saw us in camp with the two topmasts to the good. The day following I was desperate, and I rafted together the foremast, the fore- and main-booms, and the fore- and main-gaffs. The wind was favorable, and I had thought to tow them back under sail; but the wind baffled, then died away, and our progress with the oars⁷ was a snail's pace. And it was such dispiriting effort! To throw one's whole strength and weight on the oars, and to feel the boat checked in its forward lunge by the heavy drag behind, was not exactly exhilarating.

 Night began to fall, and, to make matters worse, the wind sprang up ahead. Not only did all forward motion cease, but we began to drift back and out to sea. I struggled at the oars till I was played out. Poor Maud, whom I could never prevent from working to the limit of her strength, lay weakly back in the sternsheets. I could row no more. My bruised⁸ and swollen⁹ hands could no longer close on the oar-handles. My wrists and arms ached intolerably, and, though I had eaten heartily¹⁰ of a twelve-o'clock lunch, I had worked so hard that I was faint from hunger.

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