Part 59 (1/2)

”Not yet.”

Bevis had got his catamaran in and ran out with it some way, as the water was shallow, till it deepened, when he sat astride and paddled.

”Come on,” he shouted. Splas.h.!.+ ”I'm coming.”

Mark ran in with his in the same manner, and sitting astride paddled about ten yards behind.

”Weeds,” said Bevis, feeling the long rough stalks like string dragging against his feet. ”Where? I can't see.”

”Under water. They will not hurt.”

”There goes a flapper,” (a young wild duck). ”I hope we shan't see the magic wave.”

”Pooh!”

”My bundle is slipping.”

”Pull it up again.”

”It's all right now.”

”Holloa! Land,” said Bevis, suddenly standing up.

He had reached a shallow where the water was no deeper than his knees.

”A jack struck. There,” said Mark, as he too stood up, and drew his catamaran along with his hand.

Splas.h.!.+

Bevis was off again, paddling in deeper water. Mark was now close behind.

”There's a coot; he's gone into the sedges.”

”Parrots,” said Mark, as two wood-pigeons pa.s.sed over.

”Which is the right channel?” said Bevis, pausing.

They had now reached the great ma.s.s of weeds which came to the surface, and through which it was impossible to move. There were two channels, one appeared to lead straight to the island, the other wound about to the right.

”Which did we come down in the Pinta, when we hid the catamarans?” said Mark.

”Stupe, that's just what I want to know.”

”Go straight on,” said Mark; ”that looks clearest.”

So it did, and Bevis went straight on; but when they had paddled fifty yards they both saw at once that they could not go much farther that way, for the channel curved sharply, and was blocked with weeds.

”We must go back,” said Mark.

”We can't turn round.”