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Updated: May 9, 2025
The little white cottage on Shargle, which we looked round at so anxiously from time to time, to ascertain what progress had been made, remained always in the same position, and after twenty minutes' desperate pulling it seemed as if the total distance gained had been scarcely half a dozen yards.
We can be back by four easily, and that allows us an hour or two to land there." It certainly was tempting; the day was perfection, and Colveston Bay had never looked more fascinating. The headlands stood out so distinctly in the clear air that it was hard to imagine Shargle Head was five miles distant from where we sat.
"Not much," said Hall gloomily; "that light there is just under Shargle Head." "Had we better keep on as we are?" I asked. "I don't see what else is to be done. If we let her go before the wind, we shall get right on to the rocks." "You've a lot to answer for," growled Hutton from where he lay, half- stupid with terror, in the bows.
Charlie set to work with a will, and for a time we rowed steadily on, without saying a word. "What's the time?" I asked presently of Hall, as I saw him take out his watch. "Five," said he. It was an hour after the time we had expected to be back at Parkhurst, and we were not yet clear of Shargle.
As we emerged from our little harbour the boat "lumped" heavily over the waves that broke upon the rocks, and we had a hard pull to get her clear of these and turn her with her stern to Shargle. "Now stand by," shouted Hall. We shipped our oars, and in a moment the sail, shortened by one reef, was hauled up, and the boat began to scud swiftly forward.
I tell you, a day like this, with a good sailing breeze, and four of us to row, in case it dropped, there'd be no more difficulty in going over there and back than there would in rowing from here back to Parkhurst." "How long would it take to get to Shargle?" inquired Hutton. "Why, only two hours, and perhaps less. The wind's exactly right for going and coming back too.
As for us, we wished we could do anything more active than sit still and trim the boat. But even that was some use, and so we remained, watching anxiously the clouds as they rolled down the sides of the hills and half obscured Shargle Head from our view. Presently, however, Hall said "Get the oars out, will you? we haven't made any way for an hour." No way for an hour!
Hall said nothing, but dashed his oar vehemently into the water and continued rowing. "I wonder if that light is anywhere near Parkhurst?" presently asked Archer. "Do you see?" We looked, and saw it; and then almost instantly it vanished. At the same time we lost sight of the lights on Shargle Head, and the rain came down in torrents. "A mist!" exclaimed Hall, in tones of horror.
It was useless to pretend things were not as bad as they looked; it was useless not to admit to ourselves we were fairly in for it now, and must brave it out as best we could; it was useless to maintain we had not been foolish, wickedly foolish, in starting on so venturesome an expedition; it was useless to deny that it would have been better had we remained at Shargle, or returned to Parkhurst by land.
The view in the bay was extremely beautiful, Shargle Head stood out opposite us, distinct and grand, towering up from the water, and sweeping back to join the moorland hills behind.
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