Doc's part in the evening's entertainment was a buck-and-wing dance of a most violent sort, and when he had finished, Jarrow told him to serve all hands with a tot of rum.
Everybody went to bed in the best of spirits, and for the first time since leaving Manila it appeared that the whole ship's company was contented.
Trask left his room door open, and was awakened several times during the night. It seemed to him that the wind had shifted, and that there was much tacking, for all night there was running about on deck, and thumping of blocks. At least a dozen times he heard Jarrow bawling to "Go about," and Peth's voice from the bows yelling "Hard alee," and the jibs being handled to the accompaniment of shivering sails and the lurch of the schooner as she stood on a new board.
All aft slept late, and were not about for breakfast until well past eight o'clock, when they found Doc Bird grinning like an ebony monkey.
"What the devil was all the stock-yards noise about last night?" demanded Locke, as he came out of his room and went to the door to look forward, searching the horizon ahead.
"Shorely broke my bones, sir," said Doc. "We been a sawin' up an' down all night, but the old man he kep' on his close spite o' wind an' high water."
"I thought we were turning over several times," said Marjorie, as she took her place at table.
"Blowed lak' she never blowed befo'," opined Doc. "But we done come home."
"What do you mean?" asked Locke.
"Didn' yo' see the islan'?"