Dick had been elected coxswain in the Marian. Dory had trained the new crew, but he declined to be the chief in the boat. He pulled the stroke oar, though he exchanged places with the coxswain when the boys were in training. The crew of the Marian generally manned the Goldwing, though the schooner was often used by other parties.
A lunch had been put up for each of the crews of the barges, and they were expected to be absent all the rest of the day. Sometimes Captain Gildrock was called by business or pleasure to visit Burlington, Plattsburgh, or other places on the lake, when the students were at their studies, or off in the barges. At such times he was his own pilot, Mr. Jepson was the engineer when not instructing in the shop or drawing-room, Bates was deck-hand, and Collins, the gardener, was the fireman.
Before the students were dismissed from the school-room, steam was up on the Sylph, and the barges had hardly departed before she left the wharf. If she had any particular destination, it was unknown to most of the students; and possibly the principal desired to take a view of Sandy Point after the event of the preceding night.
It was half-past eleven when the barges backed out of the boat-house. Paul was seated in the stern-sheets of the Marian. He had not yet been trained to pull with the crew, though he would have gladly taken an oar. On the present occasion his mission related to business. While they were at breakfast, Lily had spoken to him about a valise she had been obliged to leave at the house of her former employer in Westport. Paul had promised to get it when he could.
The Marian led the way down the creek into the river, and then out into the lake. The other barges followed at a respectful distance, and their crews did not seem to be inclined to engage in any scrub races. The speed of the eight-oar boat had not yet been tested, and it had always been taken for granted that either of the other barges could beat her without half trying. But it was no time to indulge in a race when the water was so rough.
The waves were dashing smartly over the point at the mouth of Beaver River, and the bow of the Marian was lifted up in the air as she plunged in among the white-caps. Dick Short got the hang of the waves as soon as they struck the boat. Paul thought it was about as rough a time as he had ever seen on the lake during the season of navigation; but he had never been in the barge before, and everything was new to him.
"By the big wooden spoon!" exclaimed the passenger, when the Marian was in the thickest of the miniature billows, and the water was occasionally slopping in over the bow. "Don't you expect you will all get drowned?"
"You can't tell about that," replied the coxswain, who felt as much at home in the boat as he would in the school-room. "We are not prophets, and we can't tell what is going to happen."
"Don't you think it is dangerous to come out here when the lake is boiling after this sort?" asked Paul, as he looked at the angry waves around him.
"I suppose it is. There is always water enough in the lake to drown the whole of us," answered Dick Short, who was rather inclined to work upon the fears of a timid voyager.