For an hour they laboured their hardest, but at the end of that
time they were farther from shore than when they began, the force
of the wind acting on the poop and broad hull driving her seaward
faster than the rowers could force her shoreward. The sea, too,
was now getting up, and the motion of the vessel rendered it
increasingly difficult to row. Edred left his place at the tiller
and went forward to Harold.

"My lord," he said, "it is useless. In spite of your efforts we are
drifting farther and farther out, and from the look of the sky I
fear that we are going to have a great gale, and there is nothing
to do but to set a little sail and to run before it. Maybe there
will presently be a shift of wind, which may enable us to make for
shore. At present you are but exhausting yourselves in vain, and
the sea will soon get up so much that it will be impossible to use
the oars."

"So be it," Harold replied; and at the master's orders the oars
were laid in, and the men prepared to get sail upon her. A sailor
climbed up the mast and fastened the stays close to the point which
was broken off. Then another joined him, and a block was lashed to
the mast just below the stays, and the halliards were rove through
it; then Edred brought out a small sail, and this was hoisted, and
the vessel, which had before been rolling heavily, began to glide
swiftly through the water. They had had the satisfaction of seeing
that their consorts, although like themselves nearly capsized by
the squall, had suffered no damage, but after lowering their sails
and yards to the deck, had succeeded in rowing into the bay, their
lighter hull and draught enabling the oars to drive them through
the water in the teeth of the wind.