“What an old croaker you are!” cried Eric impatiently. “Won’t I be on the look-out to see that such an accident as that shan’t happen? We’ll have to be very careful in turning the boat however—so as to bring the wind abeam when we get up abreast of the island, in order to beat into the bay—for the poor craft is so leaky and cranky now that she’ll not stand much buffeting about.”
“Can’t I do anything?” asked Fritz, beginning to regain his courage and bestir himself, now that he reflected that their chances of getting back to the island were not so precarious and slight as he had at first imagined.
“Yes, you can bale out the boat, if you like,” said Eric. “She’s nearly half full of water now and continues leaking like a sieve. The seams strain and yawn awfully when she rides, even worse than when she was flying along at the mercy of the wind and waves. Still, we must try to keep her clear if possible, as the lighter and more buoyant she is, the better chance have we of getting out of this mess.”
“I’ll do the baling gladly,” rejoined Fritz, really pleased at doing something, and beginning at once with the job, using a large tin pannikin that they had taken with them.
“Then, fire away,” said Eric. “It will be as much as I can do to attend to the steering of the boat. Look sharp, old fellow, and get some of the light ballast out of her! I see a light scud creeping up from leeward, behind us, with the waves fringing up into a curl before it. The wind has chopped round at last and we’ll have to cut and run as soon as it reaches us.”
Fritz baled away with the tin pannikin for dear life.
“Now, brother,” cried Eric, a moment later, “get your knife ready, and go forwards into the bows. I want you, the instant I sing out, to give a slash across the painter holding us to our moorings.”
“What, and lose our bundle of sealskins!” exclaimed the practical Fritz.
“Lose them? Of course! Do you think we’d have time to lug them into the boat before we’d be pooped! What are the blessed things worth in comparison with our lives?”
“I beg your pardon,” said Fritz humbly, always ready to acknowledge when he was in the wrong. “I spoke unthinkingly; besides, if we lose these, we’ve got plenty more under the cliff by our hut.”