When all was complete, Barclay was quite proud of his collection.
Although the wind was not all the mariners could have wished, the Zingara made fair progress.
Teenie, at all events, was in no hurry to get to Teneriffe. She loved the sea.
The voyage to her was perfectly idyllic.
And so it was to Barclay Stuart also when Teenie—now in her fifteenth year, be it remembered—was sitting or walking by his side.
Everything that could be done was done in order to make the ship look smart.
Pandoo and the black man—sole survivor of the four brought from the Coral Isles—with the assistance of the one seaman left, scoured the decks fore and aft, and turning the hose on them, washed them down. Indeed they were washed down every morning, and this was the time for Davie and Barclay to have a bath.
As early as five the hose was rigged and pump and sea-pipe manned. And now the boys went on deck, shutting the companion behind them to keep everybody else down. Then they stripped, and had the hose turned upon them. Next to a swim in a tropical sea, I know of nothing more exhilarating than a hose-bath of this description.
By eight o’clock the young fellows were dressed and ready for breakfast.
About two days after leaving the tail of the bank, as it was called, they had fallen in with an outward bound trading steamer. Antonio hoisted the flag of distress, and lay-to.