"Ay, man!" said the Scot with a leer, "I ken o' war beasts than auld dowgs."
"Do you? come let's 'ear wat they are," said the Englishman.
"Young puppies," answered the other.
"Hurrah! dinner, as I'm a Dutchman," cried Forsyth.
This was indeed the case. Dinner had been cooked on board the Smeaton and sent hot to the men; and this,—the first dinner ever eaten on the Bell Rock,—was the second of the memorable events before referred to.
The boat soon ran into the creek and landed the baskets containing the food on Hope's Wharf.
The men at once made a rush at the viands, and bore them off exultingly to the flattest part of the rock they could find.
"A regular picnic," cried Dumsby in high glee, for unusual events, of even a trifling kind, had the effect of elating those men more than one might have expected.
"Here's the murphies," cried O'Connor, staggering over the slippery weed with a large smoking tin dish.
"Mind you don't let 'em fall," cried one.