Mark ought to have answered, “Three points on your port-bow,” but he was not well up in nautical terms in this, his first voyage, and so he simply cried out, “Here!”
The result was that in a few minutes the captain, Small, and Billy Widgeon came feeling their way into the hollow.
“Are you all right, my boy?”
“Yes, father.”
“How dark it is! We were afraid we should miss you. Strike a light, Small, and let’s see.”
The boatswain struck a match, and while the thin splint burned there was time for the position of all to be observed, and Billy Widgeon immediately placed himself alongside of Jack.
“We started to come to your help directly the major came into camp,” said the captain, “but we were driven to take shelter till the storm was over. I don’t believe I was ever in such a downpour before.”
“How long did you have to wait?” asked Mark, who felt guilty at having been to sleep.
“Six hours at least,” said the captain. “It must be very nearly morning. How is Jimpny?”
“He has been fast asleep all the time.”