“Ready,” said Will, clearing the line, and raising a great stone, to which the rope was fast, on to the edge of the boat.
“Drop her atop of the little rock as I say when,” growled Josh.
“Right,” answered back Will.
Josh backed the boat a few yards; and as Dick and his brother gazed over the stem they were looking down into black water one moment and then they glided over a pale-green rock flecked with brown waving weeds.
“When!” cried Josh.
Plash!
The big stone went over the side on to the rock, which seemed pretty level, and then as the line ran over the stern Josh began to row once more, and the boat glided over the sharp edge of the rock and into black water once more that seemed of tremendous depth.
“Now, forrard, my lad,” said Josh; and Will passed him and took his place right in the bows.
Here a similar process was gone through.
After rowing slowly about thirty yards Josh stopped.