They were aiming at some one in the water between us and them.

Pull, Micah! Put your back into it! Some poor fellow may he drowning.' 'Why, I declare!' said I, looking over my shoulder as I rowed, 'there is his head upon the crest of a wave.

Easy, or we shall be over him! Two more strokes and be ready to seize him! Keep up, friend! There's help at hand!' 'Take help to those who need help' said a voice out of the sea.

'Zounds, man, keep a guard on your oar! I fear a pat from it very much more than I do the water.' These words were delivered in so calm and self-possessed a tone that all concern for the swimmer was set at rest.

Drawing in our oars we faced round to have a look at him.