Quickly the good news was conveyed to the others at the camp, and preparations were begun for the voyage. Mrs. Shallop had baked quite a quantity of jack-fruit, and had prepared about thirty pounds of turtle-flesh, treating it with brine in order to preserve it for future use. The water-beaker was filled at the stream, and additional water carried in the shells of fully-matured coco-nuts. By two o'clock in the afternoon, just as the north-east breeze sprang up, the camp was struck and the gear stowed away on board the boat. "Now, old man," said Peter to the Acting Chief; "no mistake this time. You set the course and I'll see that it's kept." "Right-o!" agreed Preston. CHAPTER XXX The Voyage is Resumed The boat lay riding to her kedge at less than twenty yards from shore. She was in not more than two feet of water. Peter would not risk bringing the boat closer inshore, lest, with her full complement, she would grate over the coral and so injure herself. Mahmed was first on board, his duty being to assist the two lascars to hoist Preston over the gunwale. This operation was successfully performed without even a groan or a gasp from the injured man, and the lascars returned to carry the portly Mrs. Shallop through the water. They had a difficult task this time, for the lady confessed to twelve stone, and probably tipped the scale at fifteen. Nevertheless the lascars tackled the job with such a will that their energy was more than sufficient. Mrs. Shallop began to rock. The oscillations continued until in desperation she clutched at the head of one of her bearers. At the same moment his feet struck a particularly sharp patch of rock. Never "strong on his pins", and additionally handicapped by an unequal share of his fifteen-stone burden, the Indian found himself falling. The prospect of being sandwiched between the sharp coral and the portly mem-sahib was too much for his self-control. With a vigorous and despairing effort he threw himself clear. The other lascar, unable to maintain his charge, let Mrs. Shallop go with a run. For some seconds she floundered in eighteen inches of tepid water, her horrified features mercifully obscured from the onlookers by a miniature waterspout. Before Mostyn could go to her assistance she regained her feet. For a very brief interval there was absolute silence. Even the lapping of the wavelets upon the shore seemed to have ceased. Then the storm broke. Mrs. Shallop's pent-up loquacity let itself loose, after being kept under control for nearly forty-eight hours. She stormed at the lascars until they took to their heels, but fortunately they were ignorant of what she did say. Then she directed her battery upon Peter, although he was quite at a loss to know why he should be marked down in this fashion; while for vehemence her expressions--to quote the immortal Pepys--"outvied the daughters of Billingsgate".