North looked dubiously at the pan. Alexander Bludd shook his head in despair.
“Get back while you can, b’y,” said North. “Quick! We’re driftin’ fast. The pan’s too small.”
“I think ’tis big enough for one man and me,” said Donald.
“Get aboard and try it, Alexander,” said Job.
Alexander Bludd stepped on. The pan tipped fearfully, and the water ran over it; but when the weight of the man and the boy was properly adjusted, it seemed capable of bearing them both across. They pushed off.
When Alexander moved to put his gaff in the water the pan tipped again. Donald came near losing his footing. He moved nearer the edge, and the pan came to a level. They paddled with all their strength, for the wind was blowing against them, and there was need of haste if three passages were to be made. Meanwhile the gap had grown so wide that the wind had turned the ripples into waves, which washed over the pan as high as Donald’s ankles.
But they came safe across. Bludd stepped quickly ashore, and Donald pushed off. With the wind in his favor, he was soon once more at the other side.
“Now, Bill,” said North, “your turn next.”
“I can’t do it, Job,” said Stevens. “Get aboard yourself. The lad can’t come back again. We’re driftin’ out too fast. He’s your lad, an’ you’ve the right to—”
“Iss, I can come back,” said Donald. “Come on, Bill! Quick!”