“Bless your heart, no you hasn’t,” muttered Joe, keeping his head well above water. “You hasn’t been born long ‘nuff ter go out dis worl’ yet awhile, I’m thinkin’,” and nerved by the little fellow’s unconscious calmness, Joe put all his strength in four or five more good strokes, and reached the camp, but he had no breath left with which to speak when he reached it. It was dreadful to waste the precious moments, but his breath was still too laboured from the strenuous effort he had been making for him to voice a single Word. Just at that moment Brevet turned to hurry down from the camp, and then stood riveted to the spot, his face white with terror. He did not see Joe in the dismay of his discovery.
“Oh, my boat is gone!” he cried, lifting his two little clenched hands in helpless consternation.
“But here’s your Cap’ll,” rang out a dear familiar voice, and Joe thanked God that he was able to instantly dispel the little fellow’s fears. One bound, and Brevet was at Joe’s side.
“Did you swim over for me, Captain?” his two arms locked about Joe’s neck in his joy.
“Yes, I done swim ober for you Honey, an’ now we done goin’ ter swim back again. Des get on my ole back, dis a-way, Honey, only have a care not ter choke me an’ don’ be a-feared for a moment.”
It was hardly necessary for Joe to have added that, for on Joe’s back Brevet felt as safe as any of the rest of us on the deck of an ocean steamer. Besides, it was such fun to be carried ashore in that fashion. Only once it seemed to cross his little mind that it might perhaps be rather hard work for Joe.
“If I’m too heavy, I think I could swim all right. Shall I leave go?”