“I hope the painter won’t give way,” said the doctor at last, “and that they will not leave us behind.”
“They’d miss us directly,” said Jack. “Their boat would go so much faster.”
“Couldn’t go faster than she is. Why, Jack, it must be a clever canoe that can beat us.”
“Goes too fast to please me,” whispered the man at the first opportunity. “Strikes me, Mr Jack, that one of these times when they swing over to the left so they’ll drag us under, so that our boat will fill and go down; and if we do, what about that there pig?”
“What pig?” said Jack wonderingly.
“Why, you know, sir, close in there as we came along. If there’s things in this water that can pull down pigs, won’t they be likely to pull down us?”
“There’s plenty of real trouble to think about,” said Jack quietly, “without our trying to make out imaginary ones. The boat will not fill.”
“Eh? what’s that?” said the doctor; “this boat fill? Oh no; she rides over the water like a cork. Can’t see anything of the enemy, Jack; the spray along the reef makes a regular curtain, and shuts off everything. I hope it hides us well from our black friends, for I don’t want to get into a row of that kind. Well, Ned, if it comes to the worst, do you think you can manage a gun?”
“Cleaned Sir John’s guns often enough, sir.”
“Yes, but can you shoot?”