But the captain laughed in a way that expressed humor and tragedy all in one. He asked: «Do you think we’ve got much of a chance now, boys?» This made the others stop talking. To express any hope at this time felt childish and stupid. But they also did not want to suggest there was no hope. So they were silent. «Oh, well», said the captain, «we’ll get ashore all right». But there was something in his voice that made them think, as the sailor said: «Yes, if this wind holds!». Seagulls flew near and far. Sometimes the birds sat down on the sea in groups, near brown seaweed that rolled on the waves. The anger of the sea was no more to them than it was to chickens a thousand miles away on land. Often the seagulls came very close and stared at the men with black bead-like eyes. The men shouted angrily at them, telling them to be gone. The sailor and the reporter kept rowing with the thin wooden oars. Sometimes they sat together, each using an oar. Sometimes one would pull on both oars while the other rested. Brown pieces of seaweed appeared from time to time. They were like islands, bits of earth that did not move. They showed the men in the boat that it was slowly making progress toward land.