This was soaked and wrung out to make it softer, and then thrust into the hole in our bows.
“There, you must sit forward here, and plant both feet against it, my lad,” said Mr Brooke.
“Ay, ay, sir. Men never knows what he may come to. Fancy my toots being used to caulk a leak!”
He, laughing, sat down on the forward thwart, and pressed his feet against the jacket.
“Now then, a man to bale,” cried Mr Brooke, and the coxswain fished the tin baler out of the locker forward. “No; pass it here,” continued our leader. “Pull away, my lads, and Mr Herrick and I will take it in turns to bale. We must get out of this narrow creek as soon as we can.”
“Me balee water out,” squeaked Ching, who looked very wet and miserable.
“No, thank you,” said Mr Brooke coldly.
“Beg pardon, sir; I’ve got nothin’ to do but sit here like a himage,” said the coxswain; “I can reach down and bale.”
“Without shifting your feet?”
“Yes, sir; look here.”