“What a topping place!” exclaimed Craddock enthusiastically.
His appreciation was justifiable; for, although the approach to Chichester Harbour presents a dreary aspect, the view when once within its shelter is superb; while the spacious land-locked expanse with its three principal arms afforded miles of safe yet entrancing sailing.
After following a well-marked channel for about three miles and making a gentle bend to starboard, the leading craft began to reduce canvas.
The Kestrel followed suit; then a regular forest of masts appeared to occupy the whole width of the waterway, while ashore a small village of tents accommodated those Sea Scouts whom circumstances had prevented from living and sleeping afloat. Conspicuous amongst the floating community was a large yacht flying the characteristic burgee of the Chief Sea Scout, and displaying the International Code Signal: KY—“Anchor as convenient.”
Five minutes later, the Kestrel brought up on the fringe of the fleet and well sheltered by the curving arms of a sandy bay. Eighty yards or so away was a little pier fronting the lines of tents and affording means of landing at any state of the tide. Canvas was then stowed and ropes coiled away. Then for the first time the crew of the Kestrel were at leisure to take in the animated scene.
Suddenly Heavitree turned and smacked Craddock on the shoulder.
“Peter, old son!” he exclaimed joyously, “aren’t you thunderingly glad you’re a Sea Scout?”
CHAPTER XXI
The Eve of the Jamboree
“I can’t see any sign of the Merlin,” declared Brandon, after scanning the numerous craft at anchor. Already, during the last half-hour new arrivals had taken up their berths, so that the Kestrel was by no means on the fringe of the fleet.
“That’s strange,” rejoined Peter. “I wonder where she is?”