It was a raw morning with a little bit of a fog, and a cool breeze right off the land. This last point, however, gave great satisfaction to the leaders of the party. Once out in the open they would be able to hoist sail, and without the exertion of rowing make a straight track for the Long Stork--much indeed as would be the case when, with a southerly wind at their backs, they would before long plough the ocean from Sinnamary to New Swishford. The fog also was decidedly in their favour, for it would help to screen them from the observation of any wakeful and inquisitive coastguard. In fact, the unusual combination of wind and fog seemed like a special sign of good omen to their adventure. "Hope it's not wough outside," said Braintree, as the boat, now nearly out of the creek, began to dance a little at the prospect of meeting the open sea. "Can't be rough with the wind off the land, you duffer," said Crashford. "Can't it, though?" said Wester, as a wave lifted the prow of the boat and nearly sent it back on the rocks. "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. But comprehending was one thing with Tubbs, and doing was another thing. Just as he settled down to his oar, another wave lifted the boat and Tubbs with it, who clung wildly to the seat with both hands, leaving his oar to its fate. Luckily, Crashford was near enough to make a grab at it before it went, or the beginning of the expedition might have been marked by a serious catastrophe. The unhappy Tubbs having been shunted, Crashford took his place, and with Bowler kept the boat's head steady till Gayford hauled up the sail, and the "Eliza" began of her own accord to fly through the water. At the sight of the majestic sail swelling with the wind, and still more on perceiving a decided improvement in the pitching of the boat, the spirits of the party rose again, and Braintree actually began to hum "Wule Bwitannia." The cliffs of Raveling loomed dimly out behind them, and ahead they could just discern the faintest outline of the land of their adoption. "Upon my word," said Bowler, "this is jolly. It's just like the real New Swishford, isn't it, you fellows?" "Warthah," said Braintree, "except my wifle to let fly at the seagulls with." "But," said Wallas, "if the wind's off the land this side, it will be off the sea when we get over there, so I suppose it'll get rougher and rougher the farther out we get?"