“Tell me if it’s changed white,” replied the other pleadingly, “because I reckon the scares we’ve had thrown into us this last half hour have sure been enough to turn any poor fellow’s hair. Will they know me at home, if I’m ever lucky enough to get back there again; or can I expect to have the door shut in my face, and our old dog Tige chase me over the back fence?”
“Oh! you haven’t changed much,” Giraffe assured him, “except that there’s an anxious look stamped on your face like it’d never come off again. I’m surprised at you, Davy; why don’t you grin and bear it like I do? This is only going to be another of our experiences, and before long you’ll look back at it, and laugh at the whole business. Whee! there she rises again, fellows. Everybody climb!”
They were becoming quite expert now with regard to executing what Giraffe called a “flank movement;” for even Bumpus was able to scramble up the sloping floor before anyone could take hold of his arms.
Again they felt more or less concerned while the boat hung in a state of uncertainty, as though undecided whether to keep on turning until the upset came, or slide off again into deep water.
When the latter came to pass all of them breathed easy again.
“And to think,” said Smithy, taking a full breath, “this sort of thing has got to continue for hours, before morning comes. Why, we’ll be out of our minds, I’m afraid.”
“We’re lucky to have any minds at all, to go out of,” Giraffe told him. “Some fellows would be that way to start with—present company always excepted, you know.”
Giraffe was one of those kind of boys who would have his little fling at a joke, no matter what sort of a scrape he might be in. Such a buoyant nature helped to keep the spirits of his comrades up, and so far it was useful, at least.
“What time is it, anyway?” demanded Step Hen. “Seems to me we’ve been banging around like this for a whole week or so.”
“Five o’clock!” announced Allan.