“’Tis fine we didn’t bide in camp,” remarked David as he swallowed a third cup of tea.  “With this fine breeze we’ll make Fort Pelican to-night, whatever.”

“I’m fine and warm now,” declared Jamie, “but ’twas a bit hard to face the rain when we starts this marnin’.”

“‘Tis always the thinkin’ about un that makes things hard to do,” observed David.

“Things we has to do seems wonderful hard before we gets at un, but mostly they’re easy enough after we tackles un.  The thinkin’ beforehand’s the hardest part of any hard job.”

The sun broke out between black clouds scudding across the sky.  The wind was gradually increasing in force.  By mid-afternoon half a gale was blowing, a heavy sea; was running, and the old boat, heeling to the gale, was in a smother of white water.

“We’re makin’ fine time!” shouted David, shaking the spray from his hair.

“We’ll sure make Fort Pelican this evenin’ early,” Andy shouted back.

“We’ll not make un!” Jamie protested.  “The wind’s gettin’ too strong!  We’ll have to go ashore and make camp!”

“The boat’ll stand un,” laughed David.  “She’s a sturdy craft in a breeze.”

“I’m afeared,” said Jamie.

“‘A scout is brave,’” quoted Andy.

“’Tisn’t meant for a scout to be foolish,” Jamie insisted.  “I’m afeared of bein’ foolish.”

“You was braggin’ of havin’ grit,” Andy taunted.

“I has grit and a stout heart,” Jamie proudly asserted, “but there’s no such need of haste as to tempt a gale.  ’Tis time to lie to and camp.”

David’s answer was lost in the smother of a great roller that chased them, and breaking astern nearly swept him from the tiller.  When the lads caught their breath there was a foot of sea in the bottom of the boat.

“Bail her out!” bellowed David, shaking the water from his eyes.

“Jamie’s right!  ‘Tis blowin’ too high for comfort!” shouted Andy, as he and Jamie, each with a kettle, bailed.  “We’d better not risk goin’ on!  Find a lee to make a landin’, Davy.”

“’Tis against reason not to take shelter!” piped Jamie.

“Fort Pelican’s only ten miles away!” David shouted back in protest.  “We’ll soon make un in this fine breeze!”

The boat was riding on her beam ends.  White horses breaking over her bow sent showers of foam her whole length.  A sudden squall that nearly capsized her roused David suddenly to their danger.

“Reef the mains’l!” he shouted.

“Make for the lee of Comfort Island!” sputtered Andy through the spray, as he and Jamie sprang for the mainsail to reef it.

“Make for un!” echoed Jamie. “’Tis against reason to keep goin’.”

The wind shrieked through the rigging.  Another great roller all but swamped them.  The sudden fury of the wind, the ever higher-piling seas, and the rollers that had so nearly overwhelmed the boat brought to David a full sense of their peril.  He had been foolhardy and headstrong in his determination to continue to Fort Pelican.  He realized this now even more fully than Andy and Jamie.