The three men bent to their oars, but Archie felt that they were no longer making headway.  The boat was wide and high out of the water; a good sea boat, but very hard to row against the wind.  Although the men strained at the oars, till Archie expected to see the tough staves crack under their efforts, the boat did not seem to move.  Indeed it appeared to Archie that in the brief space when the oars were out of the water the wind drove her further back than the distance she had gained in the last stroke.  He hoped, however, that the squall was merely temporary, and that when it subsided there would still be no difficulty in gaining the land.  His hope was not realized.  Instead of abating, the wind appeared each moment to increase in force.  Clouds of spray were blown on the top of the waves, so that at times Archie could not see the shore before him.  For nearly half an hour the fishermen struggled on, but Archie saw with dismay that the boat was receding from the shore, and that they had already lost the distance they had gained before the squall struck them.  The old fisherman looked several times over his shoulder.

“It is of no use,” he said at last; “we shall never make Rathlin, and must even run before the gale.  Put up the helm, young sir, and take her round.  Wait a moment till the next wave has passed under us —­ now!” In another minute the boat’s head was turned from land, and she was speeding before the gale.

“In with your oars, lads, and rig the mast, reef down the sail to the last point; we must show a little to keep her dead before the wind; we shall have a tremendous sea when we are once fairly away from the shelter of the island.  This gale will soon knock up the sea, and with the cross swell from the Atlantic it will be as much as we can do to carry through it.”

The mast was stepped and a mere rag of sail hoisted, but this was sufficient to drive the boat through the water at a great speed.  The old fisherman was steering now, and when the sail was hoisted the four men all gathered in the stern of the boat.

“You will go between Islay and Jura, I suppose,” one of the younger men said.

“Ay,” his father said briefly; “the sea will be too high to windward of Islay.”

“Could we not keep inside Jura?” Archie suggested; “and shelter in some of the harbours on the coast of Argyle?”

“Ay,” the old man said; “could we be sure of doing that it would be right enough, but, strong as the wind is blowing her, it will be stronger still when we get in the narrow waters between the islands and the mainland, and it would be impossible to keep her even a point off the wind; then if we missed making a harbour we should be driven up through the Strait of Corrievrekan, and the biggest ship which sails from a Scottish port would not live in the sea which will be running there.  No, it will be bad enough passing between Islay and Jura; if we get safely through that I shall try to run into the narrow strait between Colonsay and Oronsay; there we should have good and safe shelter.  If we miss that, we must run inside Mull —­ for there will be no getting without it —­ and either shelter behind Lismore island far up the strait, or behind Kerara, or into the passage to Loch Etive.”