“O! well!” said Mark, nodding his head up and down as he spoke, as much as to indicate that he did not care personally; but still, “O! well! all I know is, if you don’t go to war Ted will have one all to himself, and have a battle with somebody else. I believe he sent Charlie.” Charlie was the mite.
“Did he say he would have a war all to himself?” said Bevis, sitting upright.
“I don’t know,” said Mark, nodding his head. “They say lots of things.”
“What do they say?”
“O! heaps; perhaps you don’t know how to make war, and perhaps—”
“I’ll have the biggest war,” said Bevis, getting up, “that was ever known, and Ted’s quite stupid. Mind, he doesn’t have any more cherries, that’s certain. I hate him—awfully! Let’s make the swords.”
“All right,” said Mark, jumping up, delighted that the war was going to begin. He was as eager as the others, only he did not dare say so. Most of the afternoon they were cutting sticks for swords, and measuring them so as to have all the same length.
Next morning the governor went with them to bathe, as he wanted to see how they were getting on with their swimming. They had the punt, and the governor stopped it about twenty yards from the shore, to which they had to swim. Bevis dived first, and with some blowing and spluttering and splashing managed to get to where he could bottom with his feet. He could have gone further than that, but it was a new feeling to know that he was out of his depth, and it made him swim too fast and splash. Mark having seen that Bevis could do it, and knowing he could swim as far as Bevis could, did it much better.
The governor was satisfied and said they could now have the blue boat, but on two conditions, first, that they still kept their promise not to go out of their depth, and secondly, that they were to try and see every day how far they could swim along the shore. He guessed they had rather neglected their swimming; having learnt the art itself they had not tried to improve themselves. He said he should come with them once or twice a week, and see them dive from the punt so as to get used to deep water.
If they would practise along the shore in their depth till they could swim from the rocky point to the rails, about seventy yards, he would give them each a present, and they could then go out of their depth. He was obliged to be careful about the depth till they could swim a good way, because he could not be always with them, and fresh water is not so buoyant as the sea, so that young swimmers soon tire.