“You won’t have to. March. Put on two of everything else. Pretend you’re going to the North Pole.”
“Two ties?” said Roger, going into the tent.
“And jolly well buck up,” said the captain. “There’s no time to lose.” He went off with Titty to step the mast, and get the sail ready. Susan came down to the landing-place with the stores.
“Isn’t it a good thing we haven’t got a centreboard, like the Amazon ,” she said, as she pushed the biscuit tin under the thwart.
“A centreboard’s all right when you’re sailing against the wind in a narrow place,” said the captain, “but Swallow does very well without, and centreboards do take up a lot of room.”
Susan went back for the milk. She brought both bottles, the big and the little.
“Look here, Titty,” she said, “I’m putting your bottle in the water here, to keep it cool. Don’t go and forget where it is.”
Just then the boy Roger strutted down to the landing-place. He was as round as a football, and his arms stuck out stiffly at each side.
The captain and the able-seaman laughed. But the mate looked at him critically.
“He ought to be warm enough like that,” she said, “but we’ll take a lot of blankets as well, in case.”
She ran up to the tents for the last time, and came back laden with blankets.
“Have we got everything?” asked Captain John. “I’ve got the compass. What about your torches? I’ve got mine.”