Bob Strong's Holidays: Adrift in the ChannelHutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
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Bob Strong's Holidays: Adrift in the Channel
Hutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction
"I'm awfully hungry, Dick," he said. "Have you got any more bread-and-
cheese left?"
"No, not a scrap," was the melancholy answer. "I giv' yer half, share
and share alike; and I've ate every crumb o' mine!"
"Isn't there anything in the locker?"
"Nothing, but the Cap'en's hatchet! Don't you bear in mind as how I
scrubbed her out afore we started?"
"Yes, so you did, I recollect," replied Bob moodily, his appetite being
well-nigh unbearable from its insatiable gnawing. "How do you feel,
Dick?"
"I feels as if I could eat the h'elephant we seed in the circus."
This made Bob laugh hysterically.
"I think I could, too," he said, between his paroxysms of laughter and
sobs. "I never felt so hungry in my life before!"
Another interval of silence followed this confession.
"I'll tell 'ee what, Master Bob," observed Dick, on their comparing
notes again presently, when both acknowledged to being cold and wet and
miserable. "Let us crawl into the cabin and lie down, hey? It'll be
warmer than here, sure-ly!"
"So it will," cried Bob, getting up and stretching his limbs, which were
stiff with cramp from sitting so long in the damp air; the fog around
them appearing to get all the thicker as the time passed. "I wonder
neither of us thought of that before?"
The two then crept in under the half-deck; and, covering themselves up
with the cutter's gaff-topsail, which had been placed within the cabin
along with some spare canvas, dropped off into a sound slumber,
forgetting their sad plight and their hunger alike, in sleep, the yacht
meanwhile still floating along, down Channel, in a west-by-north
direction with the ebb.
Their rest did not last long.
Bob was suddenly awakened from a dream of a wonderful banquet, which he
was enjoying, by a sort of rushing gurgling sound; while the boat rocked
to and fro at the same time uneasily.
Rubbing his eyes, he started up and listened for a moment.
Then, he shook Dick to arouse him.
"Hullo! Wake up!" he cried. "The wind has sprung up again; and, I
think, we're moving through the water!"
"I'll soon find out," said Dick, going outside and putting his hand over
the gunwale, calling out the instant afterwards, "You're right, Master
Bob! We be moving, right enough. Aye, so we be, sure-ly!"
"I wonder where Portsmouth is?" remarked Bob, as the two cogitated what
was best to be done, their hopes rising with the welcome breeze;
although this was only very feeble as yet, not being sufficient, indeed,
to blow away the fog that still hung over the sea.
"If we only knew whereabouts we was we'd know where to steer; but we've
turned about sich a lot, that I'd be puzzled to tell."
"So would I," agreed Bob. "But, I tell you what I think. Let us run
before the wind. It'll be sure to bring us somewhere, at all events, in
the end!"
"Aye, that it would, sure-ly, Master Bob," cried Dick, surprised at the
other's cleverness. "I declare I never as much as thought o' that!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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