“No, sir, not a bit,” said the old sailor, stolidly. “But now I come to recollect, the sun did make me awful giddy.”
“All right, Dick,” said the midshipman; “run the boat a little more under the shade of those trees, and we’ll keep you out of the sun to-day.”
Old Dick growled, and picked up the boat-hook to draw the gig further along to where there was a dense cool shade. Then as he laid the boat-hook down and retook his place, he began to chuckle.
“You’re a sharp ’un, Mr Roberts, that you are,” he said, laughing. “Well, I’ll own it; that was a bit of a slip that day. Send one o’ the tothers ashore then with your message.”
“No, I’ll be blessed if I do,” said Bob. “I’ll never give way an inch again about a boat’s crew; I haven’t forgotten that little game at Aden, where I sent one chap ashore to get me some cold water to drink, and he didn’t come back; and another volunteered to go and fetch him, and I let him go, and he didn’t come back; and then I had to send another, and another—eight of ’em, every one vowing he’d bring the rest back; and at last I sat alone in that boat without a crew, and the first lieutenant came, and a nice wigging I had. No, Master Dick, I’ve been at sea too long now to be tricked by those games, and I mean to have the strictest discipline whenever I’m in command.”
The men in the forepart of the boat overheard all this, and began to look very gloomy.
“Couldn’t you let one on us go and get a bucket o’ water, sir? it’s precious hot,” said the man who pulled bow oar, and he touched his forelock.
“No, Mr Joe Cripps, I couldn’t,” said Bob, sharply; “but I tell you what you all may do; put your heads over the side, and drink as much of this clear river-water as you like. We’re not at sea, man.”
“More we aren’t, sir,” said the man, glancing round at his companions, who laughed.
“Look here,” said Bob, “Dick will keep an eye on the shore, and I’ll tell the sentry there to pass the word. You may all smoke if you like, only look smart, and put away your pipes if the captain’s coming.”