“You did that splendidly, captain!” cried Brace excitedly.
“Tidy, sir, tidy,” was the reply; “but these boats weren’t built for steeplechasing in South American rivers. Let’s see what damage is done. I don’t suppose we’re much hurt.”
The captain stepped from thwart to thwart as he spoke, and, getting right forward, he leaned over the bows and carefully examined as far as he could reach, before raising his face again and turning to Brace, who had followed him, to now meet his eyes with an enquiring look.
“Right as a trivet,” he said. “Took off some of the varnish; that’s all that I can see. Ahoy! what damage, Dellow?” he roared to the mate in the boat astern.
There was no reply for a minute or so whilst the first mate examined his boat.
Then came a shout, in Dellow’s familiar tones:
“Twopenn’orth o’ paint gone, and a bit of a splintery crack in the top plank.”
“Any leakage?”
“Not a doo-drop, sir,” was the reply.
“Well done. Keep close up abreast,” shouted the captain; and, now that the safety of the boats was assured, attention was directed to the canoes, which were being rapidly left astern.