The sun broke out between black clouds scudding across the sky. The wind was gradually increasing in force. By mid-afternoon half a gale was blowing, a heavy sea; was running, and the old boat, heeling to the gale, was in a smother of white water.
"We're makin' fine time!" shouted David, shaking the spray from his hair.
"We'll sure make Fort Pelican this evenin' early," Andy shouted back.
"We'll not make un!" Jamie protested. "The wind's gettin' too strong! We'll have to go ashore and make camp!"
"The boat'll stand un," laughed David. "She's a sturdy craft in a breeze."
"I'm afeared," said Jamie.
"'A scout is brave,'" quoted Andy.
"'Tisn't meant for a scout to be foolish," Jamie insisted. "I'm afeared of bein' foolish."
"You was braggin' of havin' grit," Andy taunted.
"I has grit and a stout heart," Jamie proudly asserted, "but there's no such need of haste as to tempt a gale. 'Tis time to lie to and camp."