All he heard was the moan of distant foghorns and the whistling of the gusts in trees somewhere at his left.

There were pine groves scattered all along the bluffs on the Eastboro side, so this did not help him much except to prove that the shore was not far away.

He pulled harder on the right oar.

Then he stopped once more to listen.
Another blast howled through the distant trees and swept down upon him.
Then, borne on the wind, he heard from somewhere ahead, and alarmingly near at hand, other sounds, voices, calls for help.
"Ahoy!" he shouted.

"Ahoy there! Who is it?
Where are you ?" "Help!" came the calls again--and nearer.