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Updated: June 10, 2025
Gayford laughed. "You're coming round, then," said he; "why, you old noodle, you couldn't possibly miss it. Well, don't you see the island's dead north from there as straight as ever you can go? All you want is a compass and a southerly breeze and there you are, my boy." "But what about currents and all that?" queried Bowler, who knew a little physical geography.
As to the means of getting out as far as Sinnamary, at any rate, they had no anxiety on that score, for Captain Gayford, when he once heard the object of their expedition, would be sure to take them on one of his ships, and possibly afford them much valuable information as to their further route into the bargain. Before the council broke up one solemn and momentous step was taken.
"It strikes me," said Braintree, "a square mile of tewwitowy is warthah a wum pwize for a chap." "But, I say," said Wester, "isn't our winter the same as their summer? so if we start now, we shall just get out in the warm weather." "Never thought about that," said Bowler; "what do you say, Gay?" "I know my uncle generally likes those parts not in the warm weather," said Gayford.
You great booby!" cried one and all, springing to their feet and rushing in the direction of the pier, upsetting and trampling over the unhappy Tubbs as they did so. "What on earth shall we do?" gasped Gayford, as he ran by Bowler's side. "We must swim for it," said Bowler. "It's our only chance." "Can't do it. She's half a mile out." "It's all up with us if we can't get her!" groaned Bowler.
"I call that vewy wough," said Braintree, looking and feeling a little uncomfortable. "Oh, it's only the ground swell," said Gayford; "we shall soon get out of that. Here, Bowler, old man, take an oar with Tubbs, and keep way on while I stick up the sail. Look alive!" With some difficulty the oars were got out, and Tubbs made to comprehend what was expected of him.
"Well," said Bowler, digging his hands into his pockets and taking another survey of the chart, "I'm rather game, do you know!" "Hurrah!" said Gayford. "I know we shall be all right if we get you." "Who do you mean by we?" asked Bowler. "Ah, that's another point. I haven't mentioned it to any one yet; but we should want about half a dozen fellows, you know." "Don't have Burton," said Bowler.
Bowler groaned to see what a hole even this frugal repast made in the provisions, and consulted Gayford in an undertone on the possibility of slaying a seagull and the merits of raw poultry generally. Rather dolefully the provisions were packed up and deposited in a ledge in the rocks, while the party proceeded to wander about the island in search of board and lodging.
Before the end of the week the list was handed in, and as the documents might some day be of immense value to the future historian of New Swishford, I quote them here. Bowler. A waterproof, a hat-box, a pair of cricket bails, and a fold- up chair. Gayford. The chart, a compass, jam-pots for baling out boats, an eight-blade knife, a hammer and tacks, and a chessboard. Braintree. Tubbs. Crashford.
This ominous suggestion had the effect of immediately damping the spirits of half the party, and Bowler and Gayford found it difficult to restore confidence in the much-abused ocean. The ocean, however, went some way to restore confidence in itself.
"No, I believe not," said Gayford; "there's something about the Gulf Stream, you know, keeps it fresh." "Wum idea calling an island fwesh," said Braintree, giggling. "It'll be a fresh start for it when we take possession of it, anyhow," said Bowler. "Of course you'll bring your rifle, Braintree?" "Warthah," replied Braintree, "in case of niggers or wobbers."
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