The water grew rougher as he passed out from the shelter of Blue Point into the channel between the latter and Little Bear . The cries were becoming very faint . What if he should be too late ? He bent to the oars with all his energy . Presently , by the smoother water , he knew he must be in the lea of Little Bear . The cries sounded nearer . He must already have rowed nearly a mile . The next minute he shot around a small headland and right before him , dimly visible in the faint light cast by the lantern through the fog , was an upturned boat with two men clinging to it , one on each side , evidently almost exhausted . Natty rowed cautiously up to the one nearest him , knowing that he must be wary lest the grip of the drowning man overturn his own light skiff . `` Let go when I say , '' he shouted , `` and do n't -- grab -- anything , do you hear ? Do n't -- grab . Now , let go . '' The next minute the man lay in the dory , dragged over the stern by Netty 's grip on his collar . `` Lie still , '' ordered Natty , clutching the oars . To row around the overturned boat , amid the swirl of water about her , was a task that taxed Netty 's skill and strength to the utmost . The other man was dragged in over the bow , and with a gasp of relief Natty pulled away from the sinking boat . Once clear of her he could not row for a few minutes ; he was shaking from head to foot with the reaction from tremendous effort and strain . `` This 'll never do , '' he muttered . `` I 'm not going to be a baby now . But will I ever be able to row back ? ''
Presently , however , he was able to grip his oars again and pull XXXXX the lighthouse , whose beacon loomed dimly through the fog like a great blur of whiter mist .
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