This little creek was an offshoot of the bay, and a small tumble-down hut stood just beneath the overhanging crags. A boat lay rocking in the water, moored to a ring in the rock, and the owner had been true to his promise, and had left the oars and rudder and stretchers all in place.
With shouts of ecstasy the children tumbled in. This was something like independence! Not a creature was there to say them nay. They were afloat in a boat of their very own, about to row over to that enchanted and enchanting island which Millie and Bertie had often gazed at wonderingly and wistfully, but had never dreamed of exploring in their own persons.
The boat was a safe old tub, heavy and cumbersome, but steady in the water. The sea was very smooth, and the tide was falling, so that the efforts of the youthful rowers to get clear of the creek were crowned with success, although Pickle and Puck had only very elementary ideas as to rowing.
Bertie took the rudder, and as he had sometimes steered the boat when his father rowed them about the bay, he had some idea of keeping a straight course, and avoiding rocks and buoys. The island looked quite near to shore from the cliffs above; but it seemed rather a long way off when the boat was on the water, slowly traveling out towards it. Pickle and Puck soon cast off their coats and waistcoats, and the drops stood upon their brows; but they would not be beaten, and pulled on manfully, though they did feel as though the island must be behaving in a very shabby manner, and retiring gradually from them as they approached.
Still, the delight of being out in a boat by themselves made amends for much, and Milly, who had taken her place in the bows, screamed aloud with joy and excitement.
She looked over the edge, and cried out that there were the loveliest things to be seen along the bottom. She would have been happy enough on the water the whole afternoon; but the two rowers were very glad when, after prolonged and gallant efforts on their part, they at last felt the keel of the boat grating upon the longed-for shore.
"I'm hot and thirsty, I know!" cried Pickle; "I shall have a swim first thing. There's a jolly pool. I shall just swim about there, I can swim across it, I believe, and it isn't deep anywhere."
"I'll come too!" cried Puck; "I'm just sweating all over!"
"Prissy says people oughtn't to bathe when they're hot," remarked Milly doubtfully; but Pickle only laughed and said,—
"Pretty Polly talks an awful lot of rubbish. The hotter you are the jollier it is. You come along too, Bert."