Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He caught his son's arm and they went up to the cottage together at a trot, and in less than a quarter of an hour they were back again, and old Jonas clapped me on the shoulder. "Look here, Duncan," he said, "I always liked you, my boy, because you and Bigley were such mates." "Are you going to take Big away, sir?" I said. "No, boy, but I'm going to ask you to be a true mate to him still.
We tried not to lose heart; but it was impossible to keep away a certain amount of despondency as we realised that all our pulling was in vain, and as we grew wearied out Bigley said that it was of no use to row. All we were to do was to keep the boat's head well to the wind.
Two no we cannot spare two men, one must go and keep watch to warn us of their return." "I'll go, Captain Duncan," said Bigley, limping up. "I can't walk about much, but I can sit down there on the top rocks and watch." "Very good, my lad," said my father, "but take your pistols and fire twice rapidly if boats come in again."
My father was silent, but his face was flushed, and I saw Jonas Uggleston dart a curious look at him as he screwed up his face, and at the same moment Bigley grasped my hand. "I see," said the officer, "I shall have to question the boys. Once more, sir, I ask you as an officer and a gentleman, do you not know where that cargo was landed?"
It was nine months now since the scene, at the little bay, when one soft spring evening Bigley and I were walking slowly back to the Gap, after seeing Bob Chowne part of the way home to Ripplemouth. The feeling of coming summer was in the air, the birds were singing in the oak woods their last farewell to the day, and from time to time we startled some thrush and spoiled his song.
"He seemed to think he would have to turn out and go, father," I said, looking at him rather wistfully, for it appeared to me as if it would be a great pity if old Uggleston and Bigley did have to turn out, because we were such friends.
"Yes," groaned Bob, struggling to his knees, and, holding on with one hand, he began to dip the baler in regularly and slowly, throwing out about a pint of water every time. "Faster!" shouted Bigley; "faster, I say."
Now I could think of nothing else but was it possible that I could keep on long enough for the boat to reach me; and, instead of steadily trying to decrease the distance, and so help the boatman, I began to make very bad progress indeed. "Hooray!" shouted Bigley just then. "Keep up, boys, and don't lose your bundles. It's father, and he'll soon pick us up." Bundles? bundles? Where was my bundle?
Old Jonas set his son up in the stern with his back against the rowlock, and it was no easy job, for Big was limp, and tremendously heavy; but the bumping about seemed to do him some good, for, just as I was about to ask in a voice full of awe if he was dead, poor Bigley uttered a low groan. "Hah! He's coming to, then," said old Jonas, panting heavily, as he seated himself on the middle thwart.
Bob reluctantly took hold of the rope, and after giving a bit of advice to our companion, he made another desperate struggle while we pulled, but the only result was that we all grew exceedingly hot and sticky, and as Bigley stood below, red-faced and panting with his efforts, Bob put an end to the project by sliding down the rope to his side, so there was nothing left for me to do but to follow.
Word Of The Day