The embarking of "Long Forsyth" was always a scene in rough weather, and many a narrow escape had he of a ducking. On the present occasion, being very sick, he was more awkward than usual.
"Now, Longlegs," cried the men who held the boat on the starboard side, as Forsyth got over the side and stood ready to spring, "let's see how good you'll be to-day."
He was observed by Joe Dumsby, who had just succeeded in getting into the boat on the port side of the ship, and who always took a lively interest in his tall comrade's proceedings.
"Hallo! is that the spider?" he cried, as the ship rolled towards him, and the said spider appeared towering high on the opposite bulwark, sharply depicted against the grey sky.
It was unfortunate for Joe that he chanced to be on the opposite side from his friend, for at each roll the vessel necessarily intervened and hid him for a few seconds from view.
Next roll, Forsyth did not dare to leap, although the gunwale of the boat came within a foot of him. He hesitated, the moment was lost, the boat sank into the hollow of the sea, and the man was swung high into the air, where he was again caught sight of by Dumsby.
"What! are you there yet?" he cried. "You must be fond of a swing——"
Before he could say more the ship rolled over to the other side, and
Forsyth was hid from view.
"Now, lad, now! now!" shouted the boat's crew, as the unhappy man once more neared the gunwale.
Forsyth hesitated. Suddenly he became desperate and sprang, but the hesitation gave him a much higher fall than he would otherwise have had; it caused him also to leap wildly in a sprawling manner, so that he came down on the shoulders of his comrades "all of a lump". Fortunately they were prepared for something of the sort, so that no damage was done.