Page:The Seven Seas (Kipling, 1896).djvu/83

Rh For a stovepipe seen through the closing mist, it shows like a four-inch gun

(And loss it is that is sad as death to lose both trip and ship

And lie for a rotting contraband on Vladivostock slip.)

She turned and dived in the sea-smother as a rabbit dives in the whins,

And the Northern Light sent up her boats to steal the stolen skins.

They had not brought a load to side or slid their hatches clear,

When they were aware of a sloop-of-war, ghost-white and very near.

Her flag she showed, and her guns she showed—three of them, black, abeam,

And a funnel white with the crusted salt, but never a show of steam.

There was no time to man the brakes, they knocked the shackle free,

And the Northern Light stood out again, goose-winged to open sea.

(For life it is that is worse than death, by force of Russian law