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I had never been in a boat before, but I dared not say anything about
that, and after Martin had fixed the bow oar for me and taken the stroke
himself, I spluttered and plunged and made many blunders. I had never
been on the sea either, and almost as soon as we shot clear of the shore
and were lifted on to the big waves, I began to feel dizzy, and dropped
my oar, with the result that it slipped through the rollocks and was
washed away. Martin saw what had happened as we swung round to his
rowing, but when I expected him to scold me, he only said:
"Never mind, shipmate! I was just thinking we would do better with one,"
and, shipping his own oar in the stern of the boat, he began to scull.
My throat was hurting me, and partly from shame and partly from fear, I
now sat forward, with William Rufus on my lap, and said as little as
possible. But Martin was in high spirits, and while his stout little
body rolled to the rocking of the boat he whistled and sang and shouted
messages to me over his shoulder.


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