“Gone down to lunch,” answered George; and just then the watchman sang out: “No bottom.”
“This is Dogtooth bend, isn’t it?” asked the captain.
“No, sir; it is Drayton’s.”
“Deep four!” shouted the watchman. (Twenty-four feet.)
“And did Mr. Black leave you here alone to take the boat through this bad river?” continued the captain.
“Yes, sir; for he knows that I am man enough to do it. I have taken her through here on a worse night than this, and during a worse stage of water, too.”
“Quarter less three!” shouted the watchman. (Seventeen feet and a half.)
“I don’t like this arrangement,” said the captain. “You are not a licensed pilot, and if you sink the boat I shall lose my insurance.”
“Mark twain!” (Twelve feet.)
“You’ll be on the bar the first thing you know,” exclaimed the captain, jumping to his feet. “The water is shoaling rapidly. Slow down at once.”