Leaning over the rail, the three friends were absorbed in watching this busy scene. To them it seemed impossible that their own boat could get safely started without colliding with any of the swarming smaller craft. But after much maneuvering and tooting of whistles the big steamer finally got her nose pointing downstream and headed slowly for the lower bay.
“Gee!” exclaimed Bobby, drawing a deep breath, “I don’t understand yet how we got out here without bumping something. I always thought it was kind of hard to dodge eleven men on a football field without coming to grief, but this makes it look easy.”
“Well, it always did seem to be easy enough for you, as far as that goes,” remarked Fred. “But don’t forget we’ve got lots of chances yet to hit something before we get to New Orleans. The man that steers this overgrown canoe may go to sleep and land us on some nice hard rocks, or we may hit a floating wreck, or—”
“Don’t stop,” urged Lee, as Fred hesitated a moment in search of some other ghastly possibility, “you’ll have us really enjoying this trip pretty soon. Somebody please tie a life preserver on me.”
“Well, perhaps you’ve never been on anything bigger than Monatook Lake, and it’s only right that we experienced sailors should prepare you for the worst. Of course, we may be lucky enough to get there all right, but whatever happens, you can’t say we didn’t warn you.”
“This is a nice time to warn a fellow, isn’t it?” said Lee, with a grin, “but I’m not going to ask the captain to stop the boat now and let me walk ashore, so you may as well save all those cheerful predictions for some other time.”
“He won’t scare worth two cents, will he?” laughed Bobby. “But maybe when he gets his first dose of seasickness he won’t feel so cheerful.”
While the boys were talking, the ship had made steady progress, and now, passing the Statue of Liberty, was well into the lower bay. Here the tugs left it, and the great steamer vibrated from stem to stern as its powerful engines took up the task appointed them. In quick succession they passed the Ambrose and Sandy Hook lights, and began to feel the roll and heave of the great blue ocean.
“Isn’t this great?” exclaimed Bobby. “Just fill your lungs with that air, fellows.”
“The air is fine, all right,” said Fred. “But a little something to fill my stomach wouldn’t be so awful bad, either.”