There was another wait, then Mark whispered in my ear to snuggle as close to Collins as I could so as to give him room. I did. He moved over so part of him was on top of me, and that left him clear of Jiggins. There was the dimmest sort of light from the coals in front of the tent, so I could just make out Mark and guess at what he was doing. The first thing he did was to get his jack-knife out of his pocket and, cautious as anything, cut a slit about a foot and a half high in the canvas. He reached through that and got hold of the rope. He began to pull. Now you’ll see it was a lot easier for him to haul himself out by degrees like he was a cork in a bottle than it would be for him to move around and get up and step over Jiggins. That would have made a commotion and considerable noise, while by pulling himself out a couple of inches at a time you could hardly notice anything at all was happening. If I hadn’t been awake and looking and listening I never would have discovered what he was at at all.
My heart was beating like somebody was pounding on it with a mallet. It was exciting, I can tell you. The longer it took and the slower and more deliberate Mark was the more exciting it got, until before his feet disappeared through the slit I could have up and hollered.
As soon as I dared I scrooched over in front of the slit in the canvas and grabbed the rope like Mark did. It wasn’t any trick at all to inch myself out, and before very long I got up outside and looked around for Mark.
We weren’t safe yet by a long ways. No, sir, we were not. Collins and Jiggins were asleep not six feet from us, and the least noise might wake them up. Then there was danger one of them might happen to wake and feel for us. He’d find us gone, and it wouldn’t take him long to get after us, you can bet. We didn’t stay around there.
One of the funniest sights in the world is to watch Mark Tidd tiptoe. It’s sort of like a hippopotamus trying to waltz. But it is surprising how quiet he can go. He’s lighter on his feet than I am, and he weighs pretty close to three times as much.
We went straight back away from the tent and then took a wide swing around to the boats.
“Q-quiet now,” says Mark. “Shove in the canoe.”
We lifted it and set it on the edge of the river and pushed it in.
“I’ll hold her,” says Mark, “while you g-g-git the p-p-paddles and things.” He was so excited he stuttered until he sounded almost like a gasolene-engine that was out of kilter.
I grabbed what came first. Anything that felt like it could be eaten was what I wanted to make sure of. In three minnits I had the boat as full as I dared make it. Then I went back after the paddles.