Midshipman Seymour felt that the eyes of his crew were all upon him; he had detected a frightened glance or two, and the bowmen were looking over their shoulders.
"Steady, there!" he said, crumpling the letters into his pocket as he stood up. Then his spirits rose. Only a few hundred feet further on floated the mysterious object, rising in plain sight; it was a heavy chest, with lettering of some sort on it.
"Oars!" he shouted, and the men rested, glancing uneasily at their companions on the thwarts. Bobby looked back at the ship.
It scorned incredible that they could have covered that distance in such a space of time.
"In bow there, with your boat-hooks!" he shouted. But before the men could get to their feet an expression of horror crossed every face. Three or four cried out in fear. Once more Bobby turned, and a sick feeling came all over him.
The coxswain leaned forward. "We're going to catch it, sir," he whispered, and he made as if to kick off his shoes.
Full half a mile seaward one of the tall waves had broken at its height, and widening and frothing, it spread out in a mass of glistening smother. The sight made the little midshipman think of an army of white horses rising at a great green hedge.
The water around the boat began to clop noisily against the gunwales, and the wave crests on either hand danced and tottered uneasily. Then, pitching down into a hollow, the white horses disappeared for an instant, and nothing could be seen but a green wall in front. But the charge was coming—nearing; they could hear the roaring of it now.
"Steady, men!" said Bobby. "Coxswain, it's too late to turn her; we'll have to ride it in." Even to himself his voice sounded strange and deep. He forgot he was a boy. Was not he responsible? Were not they all looking to him to bring them safely through? He was an officer.
It was not customary for the regular crew of any ship to make a landing on this part of the African coast. For this service a tribe of hardy blacks, Kroomen they were called, provided expert boatmen to any ship on coast station. They knew how to ride the surf, and the best man-o'-war's man was but a novice to them. But for the last three days even the blacks had declared the surf too heavy for safe landing, and now Bobby and his cutter were going to try it, much against their wills.