“It’s not much of a harbour,” said Captain John; “but if it’s the only one it’ll have to do. We can haul the ship well up.”
With the next tack John took the Swallow further out into the lake and went about for the last time when he was well clear of the northern end of the island. He sailed past it and as soon as he was clear of all its rocks, he called:
“Jibe O!”
Mate Susan hauled in the sheet as fast as she could. John put the helm up. Swallow turned south once more, the boom swung over their heads, Susan paying out the sheet as soon as it had passed over, and they were once more sailing down the inside, eastern shore. Just before they were opposite the little bay with the pebbly beach, John called out:
“Stand by to take in sail. Lower away!”
Mate Susan was all ready with the halyard in her hand. She slackened the halyard without letting go of it. Down came the sail.
“Grab the gaff, Roger!” and Roger grabbed it.
Susan unhooked the traveller and she and Roger together brought down the sail and the gaff. Titty with the crockery basket was well out of the way under the folds of the sail. All this happened much quicker than I can tell it, and when the sail was down Swallow still had enough way on her to slide in towards the beach.
“Look out, Roger,” said Mate Susan, and she too looked anxiously over the bows.
“Rock on the starboard bow,” she shouted.
John shifted the tiller a very little.