“I know I did,” said Roger. “Watch now.” He leant back towards the shore, put his ears under, and kicked hard. He got three good kicks in before he ran aground. He had swum three yards at least.
But Mate Susan had not seen him. She had just had a few minutes’ good hard swim, and then had run up to the camp again to dry and dress, and see to her fire and the kettle at the same time. There were eggs to boil, and bread and butter to cut. The mate’s job is not an easy one, with a hungry crew to feed. Roger looked round for her, splashed out of the water, and ran, prancing, up to the camp to tell her that he had swum on his back.
“Did you really swim?” said the mate.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said the boy. “Three kicks, not touching anything. Come down, and I’ll show you.”
“Can’t now,” said the mate. “You dry yourself and help to get the breakfast. We’ll bathe again in the middle of the day, and you can show me then. Now, skip, and get the captain’s chronometer out of his tent.” He got it. “Hi!” she called, as he capered off again. “Take the milk-can down to the Swallow . It’s time someone went across to the farm.”
John and Titty went across to the mainland to fetch the milk from Mrs. Dixon’s. Roger and the mate between them had breakfast ready when they got back.
After breakfast John called a council for a second time.
“It’s about Captain Flint again,” he said.
“Do let’s go and sink him,” said Titty.
“Shut up, you fo’c’sle hands,” said the mate.