Let him take his chance." Thereat my father's brow grew dark, for he hated these evil old sayings that come from heathen days, and he cried aloud: "That is not the way of a Christian or a good seaman! Let me come forward." And in a moment he was on the fore deck, where the men made hasty way for him.

There the long lines were coiled, ready for throwing to the shore folk on our wharf, both fore and aft.

My father caught up one at his feet and stood ready, for now the boat was close on us, and I could see the white set face of her steersman as he watched for the line he knew was coming, and wherein lay his only slender hope of safety.
My father swung his arm and cast.

Swift and true fled the coils from his hand--but fell short by two fathoms or less, and the boat swept past our bows, as the men held their breath, watching and ashamed.
But I also had caught up the coil from the after deck, fearing lest my father should not have been in time, while the hawk fluttered and gripped my arm in such wise that at any other time I should have cried out with the pain of the sharp piercing of its talons.
Yet it would not leave me.
The boat flew on, but the man had his eyes on me--not looking vainly for the lost end of the first line among the foam as many another man would--and I saw that he was ready.
I threw; and the hawk screamed and clutched, as it lost its balance, and beat my face with its great wings, and I could not see for its fluttering; but the men shouted, and I heard my father's voice cry "Well done!" Then I made fast the end of the line round the main-sheet cleat, for that told me that the man had caught on.
Then the bird was still, and I looked up.

I saw the boat pass astern as the man made fast the line round the fore thwart, with his eyes on the wave that came.