Poor sea-farers! In their eagerness to be off they had “set sail” without the “oars.” After a great struggle, they succeeded in urging the punt back so that Steve could jump ashore. Then the dauntless young voyagers told off the crew, and struck out gallantly.
“Now, Tim,” said Stephen, “if you’ll take that old oyster-can, and bale out this vessel, you’ll feel so much at home that you’ll be happy; and bye-and-bye I’ll help you.”
“It has no business to leak,” Jim grumbled. “But I told you it did!” he added, triumphantly.
“Of course it does; what’s a boat, if it doesn’t leak?” Steve snorted.
On they went; drifting, paddling, and sculling; laughing and joking. It seemed so joyous and secure that even Timor lost his uneasiness. Before they had determined whither they were going, the abutments of the wharf were passed, and they were fairly out on the lake. The farther they went, the higher their spirits rose, and the more jocose they became. Not one of them troubled himself about a storm.
“Well, boys, we can round the point, and have our swim right along. Let us do it,” said Will.
“Yes, I haven’t had a swim in the lake for three weeks!” Jim solemnly declared, as he rested a few minutes from baling out the punt.
The others were duly astonished at this (we say it boldly) neglect of duty.
Steve, who was tugging lustily at his oar, called out to George, the helmsman: “Fetch her around, there, old fellow; brace about for the shore, will you? Don’t be so lubberly, now, or you’ll keel her over. Hug her up for the shore, I tell you!”