“What is it? the matter?” cried Mercer.
“Help! help!” shrieked Burr major, who was only a few yards away, splashing the water heavily as he swam with all his might for the side.
But he only shrieked out, “Help! help!” in a horror-stricken voice, and we all swam toward him as he made for the shore, all the lesser boys splashing out as fast as they could, to congregate shivering on the bank.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” cried Mr Rebble, hurrying along the path, while Lomax came running round from the other side, for he had crossed the dam to act the part of water shepherd over some of his wet lambs.
But Burr major only kept on shrieking, “Help! help!”
“What’s the matter, boys?” cried Mr Hasnip, who was now standing on the bank just where Burr major would land.
“Don’t know, sir.”
“He’s frightened, sir.”
“Got the cramp.”
This, and half a dozen other replies, came in a confused chorus, as we swam on in a half circle behind Burr major ready to help him if he ceased to swim.