"I say, Poll, be ready," said 'Possum, in a low tone. "The breeze is coming." She had glanced over her shoulder, seeing a ruffle on the surface of the lake.
No one else saw it quite as quickly, and when the puff struck them it found some of the competitors not ready. Two boats promptly collided, and disentangled themselves with difficulty. It is not the easiest matter to guide a boat describing an erratic course in the water under a wobbly umbrella, especially when coxswains of tender years lose their heads; and the two boats in question lost much ground, and never quite made it up. The other three went away gallantly, 'Possum a length ahead. Miss Parker had been taken by surprise, but her natural instinct was quick, and she was speedily in pursuit. The third competitor, a stout girl with a green umbrella and a very light dinghy, kept level with her. Loud howls came from the shore, over which could be distinctly heard the shrill pipe of little Joe, who threw his head back and vociferated, "Go it, 'Poss!" without ceasing for an instant. Afterwards it was doubtful whether little Joe had seen all of the race, but it was quite certain that he had never ceased to yell!
The breeze died away, but with the strange perversity of summer breezes it gave a tiny last flicker which seemed especially for the benefit of Miss Parker. "It was that small she caught it all in her umbrella!" said Possum, afterwards. It took her ahead, while the two other leading boats were motionless; to the anguish of Polly, she floated slowly past them. The smile of the runner who sees victory flickered about her mouth. "When I get me nose in front, they don't often see more than me heels again," was her reflection.
Again the little wind ruffled the lake and quivered towards them. Polly, rigid, with her hand on the tiller, was as ready as 'Possum. The three boats slipped forward, coming nearer and nearer to the line across the water that marked the goal. There was a steady roar from the shore—cheers, laughter, and advice, mingled inextricably.
"'Possum's beat," said Nick O'Connor sadly. "Bother that Parker girl!"
The breeze dropped again to short puffs. 'Possum rose to her feet suddenly, holding the umbrella high over her tall head, at a cunning angle; and suddenly her boat shot forward. She was level with Flossie before the latter's boat began to move, then she drew ahead slowly, and inch by inch they crept on, while the howls from the shore grew more and more frantic. Miss Parker tried every trick of umbrella generalship that she knew, but she could not quite make up the distance. 'Possum's boat touched the line half a length ahead.
"Well, I'm blessed!" said Flossie sourly. "I don't know how you managed that!"
"No more do I," 'Possum answered. "Just luck. Now then, Polly, you behave yourself." For Polly, given wholly up to triumph, was threatening to turn somersaults in the stern.
"H'm," said Flossie, regarding the ecstatic Polly. "How old's she?"
"Seven," 'Possum answered.