"Some day, when we want an adventure, Garth, we'll go round to Melbourne in that boat," Macleod said, watching the steamer's stern as she ploughed her way up the river. "I believe she carries passengers."
"Well, you'll get the adventure if you chance it in rough weather," said a man near them. "I bin round in her an' the ol' Despatch too: an' when it's fine it's a jolly good way of gettin' there. But when it's rough, it's a fair cow! One trip, we was four days instead of thirty-six hours, and every one ashore give us up for lost.
"Wrecked?" asked Garth, wide-eyed.
"'M. But we wasn't. We was sheltering in a little inlet, and lucky we was to get there. We put in at Waratah Bay an' tried to land, but all the ol' boat 'ud do was to try an' climb on the wharf, there was such a sea running: so we got out again. It wasn't no picnic. We hadn't any too much food—not that most of us had big appetites. She was standin' on her head all the time, when she wasn't doin' her best to lie down' on her side an' die, an' we were bruised black an' blue from bein' chucked about. I nearly had me arm broke, from bein' pitched out of me bunk, one night."
"You had a bad time," Tom said.
"It was a fair cow. I guess even one of them big ocean liners might have bin a bit uncomfortable in that storm—and she was about three hundred tons! Anyhow, whatever she was, she could weather a storm better than most of them—there was bigger ships than her went down in that gale. We got to Melbourne all right, if we were a few days late. I guess the owners were pretty relieved when we came up the bay: I know we were!"
He laughed, and drew out his pipe. He was an immensely tall man, with broad, stooping shoulders. A straggling beard ornamented a face burnt to the colour of brick-dust, in which twinkled little china-blue eyes. There was something very simple and friendly about him.
"But you have not always had bad trips?" Aileen asked.
"Bless you, no, lady. When it's fine I wouldn't ask no better way of getting about; an' I bin round often when there wasn't hardly a ripple the whole way. There was two young ladies once, travelling round, an' they slept out on deck both nights. Not that I've any fancy that way, meself; gimme a good, air-tight cabin. Oh, you wouldn't ask a nicer boat than the Wyrallah—her we passed just now. I had a liking for the poor ol' Despatch; but she's gone now."
"Where did she go?" Garth asked.