tangled condition.

"Can you send us help, sir? We'm got a chap cruel bad hurt."

"We've got a doctor on board; he shall come."

All round, the rolling sea was speckled with tiny boats that careered
from hill to hollow, and hollow to hill, while the two cool rowers
snatched the water with sharp dexterous strokes. After the wild ordeal
of the past two days these fishers quietly turned to and began ferrying
the fish taken in the last haul. While the boat was being got ready,
Ferrier gave Mrs. Walton and Miss Dearsley an arm each, and did his best
to convey them along the rearing deck. The girl said--

"Is that the steam-carrier I have heard of? How fearful! It makes me
want to shut my eyes."

To Marion Dearsley's unaccustomed sight the lurching of the carrier was
indeed awful, and she might well wonder, as I once did, how any boat
ever got away safely. I have often told the public about that frantic
scene alongside the steamers, but words are only a poor medium, for not
Hugo, nor even Clark Russell, the matchless, could give a fair idea of
that daily survival of danger, and recklessness, and almost insane
audacity. The skipper was used to put in his word pretty freely on all
occasions, for Blair's men were not drilled in the style of ordinary
yachtsmen. Freeman, like all of the schooner's crew, had been a
fisherman, and he grinned with pleasing humour when he heard the young
lady's innocent questions.

"Bless you, Miss, that's nothing. See 'em go in winter when you can't