“Ay, ay, sir!” replied Mr. Grant, and the motor boat forged ahead to interview the next arrival and to tell her to heave-to until the tide made sufficiently for her draught to cross the bar. “What a topping place!” exclaimed Craddock enthusiastically. His appreciation was justifiable; for, although the approach to Chichester Harbour presents a dreary aspect, the view when once within its shelter is superb; while the spacious land-locked expanse with its three principal arms afforded miles of safe yet entrancing sailing. After following a well-marked channel for about three miles and making a gentle bend to starboard, the leading craft began to reduce canvas. The _Kestrel_ followed suit; then a regular forest of masts appeared to occupy the whole width of the waterway, while ashore a small village of tents accommodated those Sea Scouts whom circumstances had prevented from living and sleeping afloat. Conspicuous amongst the floating community was a large yacht flying the characteristic burgee of the Chief Sea Scout, and displaying the International Code Signal: KY—“Anchor as convenient.” Five minutes later, the _Kestrel_ brought up on the fringe of the fleet and well sheltered by the curving arms of a sandy bay. Eighty yards or so away was a little pier fronting the lines of tents and affording means of landing at any state of the tide. Canvas was then stowed and ropes coiled away. Then for the first time the crew of the _Kestrel_ were at leisure to take in the animated scene. Suddenly Heavitree turned and smacked Craddock on the shoulder. “Peter, old son!” he exclaimed joyously, “aren’t you thunderingly glad you’re a Sea Scout?” CHAPTER XXI The Eve of the Jamboree “I can’t see any sign of the _Merlin_,” declared Brandon, after scanning the numerous craft at anchor. Already, during the last half-hour new arrivals had taken up their berths, so that the _Kestrel_ was by no means on the fringe of the fleet. “That’s strange,” rejoined Peter. “I wonder where she is?” “I’ll make enquiries,” said Mr. Grant, overhearing the conversation. “I must go aboard the Chief Sea Scout’s yacht to report our arrival and will find out whether the _Merlin_ has arrived. Bring the dinghy alongside, please, Brandon.” The three Wootton Sea Scouts had taken their departure and were alongside their parent craft when their arrival was greeted with acclamation by their chums. Spic-and-span in their best jerseys, Brandon and Craddock manned the dinghy and rowed their Scoutmaster to the flagship, which was surrounded by a swarm of small boats and invaded by dozens of Scoutmasters attending a conference on the programme for the next ten days.