XXV. PREPARATIONS

XXVI. THE RACE

XXVII. HOW A DREAM CAME TRUE




I

IN WHICH THE TIDE TAKES A HAND


The ship stole through the darkness with extremest caution,
feeling her way past bay and promontory. Around her was none of
that phosphorescent glow which lies above the open ocean, even on
the darkest night, for the mountains ran down to the channel on
either side. In places they overhung, and where they lay upturned
against the dim sky it could be seen that they were mantled with
heavy timber. All day long the NEBRASKA had made her way through
an endless succession of straits and sounds, now squeezing
through an inlet so narrow that the somber spruce trees seemed to
be within a short stone's-throw, again plowing across some open
reach where the pulse of the north Pacific could be felt. Out
through the openings to seaward stretched the restless ocean, on
across uncounted leagues, to Saghalien and the rim of Russia's
prison-yard.