‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘let’s go. Think you can handle this tub?’
Rico looked startled.
‘Isn’t your arm all right now?’
‘It’s stiff,’ Baird said. ‘Maybe I’ll take over in a while. We’re going with the stream. It won’t be hard work.’
Rico picked up the paddle. He shoved the boat away from the bank and began to paddle into midstream. The boat zigzagged through the water under his uneven strokes.
‘Keep by the bank,’ Baird said, ‘and don’t try so hard.’
After a few minutes Rico got the hang of the paddle, and managed to keep the boat fairly straight.
‘Should be dark in about ten minutes,’ Baird said, staring up at the cloudless sky. ‘There’ll be a big moon in an hour, I’d say.’
It was almost dark when they heard the sound of an aircraft. Rico had allowed the boat to drift away from the bank, and they were away from the shelter of the overhanging trees.
Baird had been dozing. He was lying down in the boat now, his arm hanging over the side. The cool water made the throbbing and burning bearable. He opened his eyes and half sat up. Rico was staring up at the sky. Then realising the plane was heading towards them, he tried desperately to paddle the boat to the shelter of the trees. He got in such a panic he nearly capsized the boat, churning up the water and scooping water on to his legs and into the boat.