He went down to the landing-place with the able-seaman. The boy had run on before and was already aboard. They pushed off and paddled her round to the harbour, where they had left the mast and sail when they went fishing before breakfast. John stepped the mast and hoisted Titty’s flag to the masthead. The boy and the able-seaman stayed aboard to do their polishing and cleaning. John moored Swallow with a warp over her stern and the painter from her bows, so that she floated at one side of the harbour, leaving room for the Amazon to come in.
“You can slack up the stern warps and haul on the painter when you want to come ashore,” he said.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said the able-seaman and the boy, already busy scrubbing the thwarts and cleaning all the dirt from the bottom boards.
The captain took the rolled-up sail with its boom and gaff, balanced them over his shoulder and carried them back to the camp. There he dumped them on the ground. Susan had just finished her washing-up.
“I’ll just go up to the lookout and see if those boats have gone,” he said.
Susan looked up.
“It’s no good thinking about him,” she said. “Just don’t think about him at all.”
“That’s all very well,” said John, “but I can’t help it.”
“Come on and help me to hang out the blankets,” said Susan.
“The Amazons may be in sight,” said John.
“Never mind if they are,” said Susan.
They took the blankets from the tents and hung them over the tent ropes that were stretched to the trees. Then they pummelled the haybags,