He was quite right, for the shot seemed to madden the dog, who came to the very edge of the rock, barking, snarling, leaping up with all four legs off the rock at once, dashing to and fro, and biting at the scraps of lichen and seaweed.
“She says you’re a coward, and don’t dare do it again,” cried Scoodrach, grinning.
“Does he? Then we’ll see,” cried Kenneth, firing again in the air.
“I told you so,” cried Scoodrach. “Look at him. She’d bite you if you wass near.”
“For two pins I’d give him a good peppering,” grumbled Kenneth, slipping a couple of cartridges into the gun, and laying it down.
“Not you,” said Scood, stepping the mast, Kenneth helping him with the stays, and to hoist a couple of sails. Then the rudder was hooked on, and, as the rapid current bore them out beyond the point, the wind filled the sails, the boat careened over, the water rattled beneath her bows, and, as the little vessel seemed to stand still, the beautiful panorama of rocky, tree-adorned shore glided by, Sneeshing’s furious barking growing more distant, and dying right away.