As many of the crew as could be spared were also allowed to go on shore for a few hours before the business of careening and refitting commenced; and, needless to say, they were delighted at the prospect of having a little more space wherein to walk about than the narrow decks of their own ships, and also of being able to get some fresh fruit--of which they stood in great need, scurvy having already appeared among them. After breakfast, therefore, they quickly got the boats over the side, and soon there was a regular procession of them from the vessels to the shore. Once there, the seamen immediately began to gather the fresh fruit, and, collecting a pile of what they most fancied, they lay down beside it, and ate at their ease, their past perils forgotten for the moment, and all of them supremely happy. A few of the more adventurous spirits, however, went off into the woods on a tour of investigation, taking their muskets and bows with them, in the hope of procuring a little fresh meat. Roger and Harry, who had, of course, gone ashore with the first boat-load, stood for a while on the beach at the edge of the water, undecided for the moment what to do first. Harry suggested having a bathe in the limpid water of the little bay, first of all; and indeed it looked so inviting that Roger was not slow in seconding the proposition. Accordingly they soon slipped off their clothes, and were quickly disporting themselves like young dolphins in the water, when Harry, glancing up, saw the ships lying, as it seemed, only some quarter of a mile away, their shapes reflected in the water with such distinctness that it was difficult to say where the substance ended and the shadow began. This apparent proximity of the ships immediately put an idea into both their heads at the same moment, and they both shouted together: "Let us have a race off to the _Stag Royal_." They laughed that they should have spoken the same words together, and they immediately decided that they would have a wager of a noble on the event. "Are you ready, then, Roger? 'tis a race to the _Stag Royal_; and the first up the ship's side and on her deck will win the noble," exclaimed Harry. "Agreed, lad; away we go!" replied Roger. And the two started off, swimming strongly, with a side stroke instead of the breast; for although the former required more power, yet it was the faster stroke, and they reckoned their strength to be quite equal to a much longer distance than that to the ship. But, as is invariably the case, distance viewed over water is deceptive, and by the time that they had done three-quarters of the course both were feeling pretty well fagged out with their unusual exertions, though neither would admit it; and the fact remained that they were swimming much slower than at the start. Suddenly they were startled by a loud hail from the deck of the _Stag Royal_--the ship for which they were making,--in the voice of Cavendish.