CHAPTER XIX.
Back again.—Taken in Tow.—Bobbing for Eels.—Glow-worms.—Home.—Urticating Caterpillars.
It will be seen that our boys had great capacities for enjoying themselves, and so oblivious had they been of the flight of time, that they had only left themselves two days in which to get home, for they felt bound not to ask for any extension of their holiday. Two days was a very short time to sail all the way down the Yare and up the Bure again; and to add to their dilemma, the wind had settled in the east, and blew light and fitfully all day until five or six, when it would drop. They could have gone back by road and left the yacht to be sent after them, but this would have been infra dig., and was not to be thought of while the chance remained of reaching home in a legitimate way. So they started, and with infinite labour and much tacking and clever sailing, they succeeded in reaching Brundall, about six miles down the river, by the middle of the day.
"This won't do," said Frank. "Here comes a steam-wherry. I wonder if they will take us in tow."
The wherry was hailed, and for a small consideration her crew consented to tow them to Yarmouth. Their sails were accordingly lowered, and a rope was made fast to the wherry; and in a few minutes' time they were being pulled along at a good pace by their great, black, ugly friend.
"Now we can enjoy our otium cum dignitate," said Dick, throwing himself at full length on the roof of the cabin with the furled mainsail as a pillow; "and however light the breeze is to-morrow, it will take us home in time; so I shall write a note home and post it at Yarmouth."
Between the waving reed-beds, through the long miles of marsh, acres of which were white with the silky globes of the cotton-grasses, by whirling wind-mills and groups of red and white cattle browsing on the reclaimed marshes, past sailing wherries that surged along before the light breeze with a lazy motion, past white-sailed yachts with gay-coloured pennants at their mast-heads and laughter-loving pleasure parties on board, underneath a bright blue sky streaked with filmy cloudlets and dotted with uprising larks, over a stream that murmured and rippled with a summer gladness, they clove their steady way. With every nerve instinct with healthy life, and hearts which had the great gift of understanding and appreciating the true and the beautiful around them, what wonder if they felt as happy as they could wish to feel, and were full of contentment with the pleasant time it was their lot to pass.
They crossed Breydon Water under widely different circumstances to those in which they first crossed it. Then it was wild and stormy; now it was fair and placid.
They reached Yarmouth about five, and as the wind still held they turned up the Bure with the flowing tide, and sailed on and on in that quiet peaceful evening, with lessening speed as the wind fell, until at last they barely crept through the water. Even when there was not a breath of air perceptible to the upheld hand, and the surface of the river was as smooth as glass, and the reeds were silent from their whispering, yet a magic wind seemed to fill their large sails, and still they crept on with a dream-like motion. At last that motion ceased, but then they were so close to Acle bridge that they set to work and poled the yacht along with the quants, and in another half hour they were moored by the Staithe.
It was then half-past nine o'clock, but still very light; and there was a whiteness in the sky to the north-east, which told them the sun was not very far over the horizon, and that at midnight it would be but little darker than it was then.