And, so nicely had he made his calculation, we drifted fairly down upon it, so that nothing remained to do but hook the tackles to either end and hoist it aboard.

But this was not done so easily as it is written.
In the bow was Kerfoot, Oofty-Oofty in the stern, and Kelly amidships.
As we drifted closer the boat would rise on a wave while we sank in the trough, till almost straight above me I could see the heads of the three men craned overside and looking down.

Then, the next moment, we would lift and soar upward while they sank far down beneath us.

It seemed incredible that the next surge should not crush the _Ghost_ down upon the tiny eggshell.
But, at the right moment, I passed the tackle to the Kanaka, while Wolf Larsen did the same thing forward to Kerfoot.

Both tackles were hooked in a trice, and the three men, deftly timing the roll, made a simultaneous leap aboard the schooner.