So, although in our secret hearts each one of us would perhaps have preferred the weather of the earlier part of the day to have continued, we did not let our uneasiness appear to our fellows, or allow it to interfere with our show of good spirits.
“I tell you what,” said Charlie, laughing, as we came down to our boat, “it would be a real spree to have a little rough water going back, just for the fun of seeing old Hutton seasick.”
“I shall be very pleased to give you some amusement,” replied Hutton; “and perhaps Adams will assist, for I saw him looking anxiously over the bows once or twice as we were coming.”
“So did I,” said Charlie; “he must have seen a ghost in the water, for he looked awfully pale.”
“Shut up, you fellows,” cried I, who was notoriously a bad sailor, and easily disturbed by a rough sea; “perhaps we shall all—”
“I say,” called out Hall from the boat, where he was busy tying up a reef in our sail, “I wish you fellows would lend a hand here, instead of standing and chaffing there.”
We obeyed with alacrity, and very soon had our boat ready for starting.
“Now, Adams and Hutton, take the oars, will you? and pull her out of this creek: we had better not hoist our sail till we are clear of these rocks.”
As we emerged from our little harbour the boat “lumped” heavily over the waves that broke upon the rocks, and we had a hard pull to get her clear of these and turn her with her stern to Shargle.
“Now stand by,” shouted Hall.