The little steamer emerged—her bluff black bows coming out of the spray much as a dogged mastiff might emerge from a ducking. She rolled, in the same whole-hearted fashion, as the next wave slid from under her—plunging down into a wild gulf of tumbling sea, to struggle up again on the further side, white foam dashing from her bows. The dense smoke from her funnels trailed behind her in a solid cloud of black.
“But she’ll sink!” Norah gasped.
“Not she!”
“But—why, she was nearly over then!”
“She’s used to it,” said Wally, laughing.
“I never saw such a thing,” ejaculated Norah. “Do you mean to tell me we’ll be doing that in a few minutes?”
Some one behind them laughed cheerfully.
“We’re much too big to dance such jigs as that,” said a friendly voice—and they turned to see a man in blue uniform smiling at them. “Don’t you worry—we’ll go through the Rip as though it wasn’t there.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Norah, relieved.
“I’ve been talking to your father,” said the newcomer; “but as he isn’t here, I’ll have to introduce myself. My name is Merriton, Miss Linton, and I’m a highly formidable person, being the ship’s doctor. I’ve heard all about you from my old friend, Dr. Anderson, in Cunjee; he has sent me special instructions to look after you. I hope you’re not going to give me any trouble!”