We shipped our oars, and in a moment the sail, shortened by one reef, was hauled up, and the boat began to scud swiftly forward.
“You’ll have to sit right over, you two,” said Hall to Hutton and me, “to keep her trim. Look sharp about it!”
As he spoke a gust took the sail, and caused the boat to heel over far on to her side. She righted herself in an instant, however, and on we went, flying through the water.
“How do you feel, Adams?” called out Charlie mischievously, from his end of the boat.
“Pleasant motion, isn’t it?” put in Hutton, laughing.
“Look here, you fellows,” said Hall abruptly, “stop fooling now, and look after the boat.”
“Why, what’s the row?” said Hutton, struck with his unusually serious tone. “It’s all right, isn’t it?”
“It’s all right,” said Hall curtly, “if you’ll only attend to the sailing.”
Our merriment died away on our lips, for it was plain to be seen Hall was in no jesting humour.
Then several things struck us which we had not previously noticed. One was that the wind had shifted farther north, and was blowing hard right into the bay, gathering strength every minute. Hall, we noticed, was sailing as close as possible up to it, thus making our course far wider than that which had brought us in the morning.