"But you will be suffocated, dear." "Have no fear, mother, we will see to the ventilation." So they obtained permission to go, and, as time was an object, they set to work with great vigour to prepare for their voyage. They made a hammock out of an old sail. Their beds were formed of cushions placed on the bunks on either side of the cabin. To prevent the necessity of tucking in their bedclothes they adopted a well-known dodge of yachtsmen; which is to double the sheets and blankets, and sew the sides and bottoms together, so as to form a bag into which they could creep. They took fishing-tackle with them, and also their old muzzle loader. Dick took his butterfly net, Jimmy a quantity of newspapers in which to dry plants, and Frank an opera-glass, with which to watch the movements of birds at a distance. Frank also took care to see to the eating department, and with his mother's help he got a very fair stock of provisions on board. The day at length arrived for their departure. It was the Monday in the last week of May. At eight o'clock in the morning they bade farewell to Mary and Florrie, who had come to see them off, hoisted their sails, and away they went before a light breeze from the northward. A cheer broke from them as they found themselves fairly afloat, and the boat-house grow smaller in the distance behind them, and the waving handkerchiefs of the two girls could be seen no longer. It was a beautiful morning, and their spirits were high. Holidays, sport, and adventure lay before them, a stout boat under them. There were no three happier boys in the world. They sailed slowly through the narrow outlet of Hickling Broad into Whiteslea Pool, and through another narrow passage into Heigham Sounds. A dyke called the Old Meadow Dyke ran from the Broad on the left into Horsey Mere; and Frank proposed making a detour along this and exploring Horsey Mere, but the other boys were too anxious to get on. It was too near home to begin to explore. In the middle of Heigham Sounds, which is a good sized sheet of water, was a large bed of reeds, such as is locally called a 'rond.' "Let us go slap-dash into that. We shall be sure to find some nests," said Frank. "All right," said both Jimmy and Dick. So Frank put the helm up, and the yacht drove on before the wind, surging through the rustling reeds, which bowed and bent before her, until she came to a standstill well into the heart of the rond. "Down with the sails," said Frank, and the halyards were let go and the sails came down with a run. As the yacht crashed into the rond there was quite an explosion of birds from it. Water-hens, coots, and marsh-tits flew out on both sides, and from the centre of it rose a little duck with a bright, chestnut-coloured head and neck. "That is a teal," said Frank, "we shall find her nest here, so look carefully."