This was undoubtedly the best thing to do, and although the water was not over warm, they took off their clothes and worked and pushed away, until they made the mud around the yacht as soft as a pudding, and themselves as black as negroes. Then the yacht moved a little, and putting forth all their strength they shoved her back into deeper water. Not waiting to dress themselves, they ran the sails up and steered away for the Kendal Dyke at the south-east end of the Broad. They meant to stay at the mouth of the Broad to bathe and dress. There was no one to see them, so it did not matter. As they neared the mouth of the dyke, to their great dismay a yacht with several people on board came out of it. The people stared in blank astonishment at the strange double-bodied yacht and her still stranger crew. Jimmy and Dick dived at once into the cabin. Frank could not leave the helm, and yet could not stay where he was; so without further thought he plunged into the water at the stern of the yacht, and, holding on by the rudder, he contrived to keep her on her course until Jimmy reappeared with something thrown over him, and took hold of the tiller. When they came to an anchorage in a secluded spot among the reeds, they bathed and dressed.
"Well," said Dick, "if we go on having adventures at this rate, we shall have plenty to tell when we get home."
"I like adventures, but these are not the sort I like," said Jimmy.
"Well, never mind, better luck next time," said Frank, soothingly.
Sailing through Kendal Dyke, which in places was so narrow that the Swan brushed the reeds on both sides as she passed through, they reached the Hundred Stream, and, turning to the south-westward, they sailed, with no further adventure, until they came to Heigham Bridge, where they had to lower their masts in order to get through. While Frank and Jimmy did this, Dick took his butterfly net, and went after an orange-tip butterfly, which he saw flying past. This butterfly is one of the first which makes its appearance in the spring, and it is one of the prettiest. It looks as if a bunch of red and white rose petals had taken to themselves wings and fled. It is a small butterfly, having an orange-red tip on the ends of its forewings. The male only has this ornament. The female has only a greyish black tip. The under surface of the wings of this pretty insect is no less beautiful than the upper. It is white, with bright green marblings, or what appear as bright green to the naked eye. When looked at through the microscope it will be found that the green appearance is caused by the mixture of black and bright-yellow scales. (I suppose that most of my boy readers will know that the dust which is so easily rubbed off a butterfly's wings is in reality a coating of scales arranged one over the other like feathers and of very exquisite shapes.) The caterpillar of the orange-tip is green, with a white stripe on each side, and the chrysalis is very peculiar in shape, tooth-like, and pointed at both ends.
Orange-Tip
Butterfly.
Dick was a long time away; and when he came back, flushed with exercise, he had no less than eight orange-tips in his net, which he proceeded to kill and set there and then.
They sailed on very slowly, for the breeze had fallen, until they came to the Thurne Mouth, and then they turned up the Bure until they came to St. Benedict's Abbey, the ruins of which stand on the northern bank of the river. Here they determined to camp for the night, and accordingly ran their boat into a marshy creek, and made her fast to the reeds. They were much amused at the remarks of the people whom they passed, whether on the bank or on board the wherries and yachts. The like of the Swan had never before been seen on Norfolk waters. She was a rara avis in terris and excited any amount of appreciatory and depreciatory comment.