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They instinctively began to carry the things on board as he had ordered; and in the end the scowling Hooliam was obliged to follow them on board, or be left behind. As they were getting under way again, Garth observed Hooliam busy with the sail. When it was hoisted, it appeared he had taken a reef in it. "Shake it out!" Garth commanded. Hooliam shrugged and protested.
"They're scrapping about whether there is any wind," Charley explained. To a white man's senses there was no sign of wind; nevertheless the oars were run in, the cargo shifted, and the heavy mast, with infinite labour, stepped amidships and guyed. Hooliam looked on indifferently from the stern, idly swinging his great sweep back and forth. Finally a dirty square sail was raised.
The passengers ferried themselves ashore in the Flat-iron, which had been stowed, much against Hooliam's will, on board the Loseis. After supper, as time passed and there was no sign of the returning crew, Garth sent Charley after Hooliam with a peremptory message. Hooliam returned, cap in hand, his whole attitude changed.
Then came the rain, with pitiless, whistling whips that lashed the water, and bit cruelly into exposed flesh. Every man on board, save one, instantly dived under the sail-cloths; and Hooliam was the first to seek shelter. Only Garth dared not relax his watch in the open.
While they were at their breakfast on the shore, a deplorable figure, ashen-cheeked and shamed, came shuffling out of the bush. The eight breeds, as one, instantly set up a merciless, derisive jeering. It was Hooliam. He bore in his hands a little bottle and a bank-bill. Wretched as he was, his eyes glinted with satisfaction at the sight of the boat safe and sound on the shore. He went to Garth.
"Any chance of another boat?" asked Garth. Charley shook his head. "No Company boat due for three weeks," he said. Garth set his jaw. "Then there's no help for it," he said firmly. "We'll have to go with Hooliam. I'll make him take our little boat along, so we won't be entirely at his mercy; and I'll watch him close." Charley leaned toward Garth.
Finally the Loseis's prow was turned toward the shore. Garth demanded an explanation. Hooliam, more obsequious now, said that it was Phillippe's boat on the way out; and he had messages to deliver him from their common employers at the Landing.
"He sure must have gone clean daft!" "This Hooliam," Garth continued, "is too anxious, judging by others of his kind, to get us on board. I suspect Nick Grylls has a share in this outfit. On the other hand we have less than a week's grub left. What have you got, Charley?" "Nothing but sow-bosom and beans," said the boy disconsolately; "and damn little of that! It isn't good enough for her!"
With true breed seamanship she was beached on a steep and stony incline on the lee side of a point. Garth tried his best to make their folly clear to them; but none of the crew, and least of all Hooliam, retained presence of mind to comprehend.
Garth was more moved than he cared to show. "You're true blue, Charley," he said in a low tone. "You come along!" From sundown until daybreak, the ki-yi-ing and the beating of the stick-kettle on the shore desecrated the stillness of the night with scarcely any intermission. Shortly after daybreak, the wind having gone down, Hooliam sent word to Garth that he would like to start.
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