"Hardly," said I.
We tugged at the boat, it squelched about, splashing the slime over us, till it plastered our heads and faces and covered our hands.
"This will never do," said he. "We must get in together, and by instalments. Look here! when I say 'three,' throw in your left leg if you can get it out of the mud."
"I will do my best."
"And," he said further, "we must do so both at the same moment. Now, don't be a sneak and try to get in your body whilst I am putting in my leg, or you will upset the boat."
"I never was a sneak," I retorted angrily, "and I certainly will not be one in what may be the throes of death."
"All right," said the major. "One—two—three!"
Instantly both of us drew our left legs out of the mud, and projected them over the sides into the boat.
"How are you?" asked he. "Got your leg in all right?"
"All but my boot," I replied, "and that has been sucked off my foot."