Once or twice his own breath stopped short, when it seemed that the canoe had taken the fatal plunge which he was dreading.

Every minute he figured the distance from the shore, and his chances of swimming it if they were overturned.

And then, after a long time, there came a sudden lull in the wind, and the seas grew less rough.

Jean's voice came from near them, filled with a thrill of relief.
"We are behind the point," he shouted.

"Another mile and we will enter the Snowbird, M'sieur!" Philip leaned forward in the gloom.