"Keep her in the furrow
of the moon," the patron directed me, in a quiet murmur, sitting down
ponderously in the stern-sheets and reaching for his pipe.
The pilot station in weather like this was only a mile or two to the
westward of the islets; and presently, as we approached the spot, the
boat we were going to relieve swam into our view suddenly, on her way
home, cutting black and sinister into the wake of the moon under a
sable wing, while to them our sail must have been a vision of white
and dazzling radiance. Without altering the course a hair's breadth we
slipped by each other within an oar's length. A drawling, sardonic hail
came out of her. Instantly, as if by magic, our dozing pilots got on
their feet in a body. An incredible babel of bantering shouts burst out,
a jocular, passionate, voluble chatter, which lasted till the boats were
stern to stern, theirs all bright now, and, with a shining sail to our
eyes, we turned all black to their vision, and drew away from them under
a sable wing. That extraordinary uproar died away almost as suddenly
as it had begun; first one had enough of it and sat down, then another,
then three or four together; and when all had left off with mutters
and growling half-laughs the sound of hearty chuckling became audible,
persistent, unnoticed.
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