Chapter Six.
The Gulls.
I have styled my determination a bold one. True, there was nothing remarkable in the enterprise itself.
I only mean that it was bold for one so young and so little as I was at the time. Three miles rowing would be a good long pull, and that right out into the great deep water almost beyond sight of the shore! I had never been so far before, nor half so far, neither; in fact, never more than a mile from the beach, and in pretty shallow water, too—I mean, while by myself.
With Blew I had been everywhere around the bay; but then, of course, I had nothing to do with the management of the boat; and, trusting to the skill of the young waterman, had no cause to feel afraid.
Alone, the case was different. Everything depended upon myself; and should any accident arise, I should have no one to give me either counsel or assistance.
Indeed, before I had got quite a mile from the shore, I began to reflect that my enterprise was not only a bold but a rash one, and very little would have induced me to turn round and pull back.
It occurred to me, however, that some one might have been watching me from the shore; some boy who was jealous of my prowess as an oarsman—and there were such in our village—and this boy or boys would have seen that I had started for the islet, would easily have divined my reasons for turning back, and would not fail to “twit” me with cowardice. Partly influenced by this thought, and partly because I still had a desire to proceed, I plucked up fresh spirit and rowed on.