Great Northern?. Arthur Ransome

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      Captain Flint gave the chart to Dick. “Hang on to this,” he said, and went forward to join the misty figures on the foredeck.

      “Eight fathom,” called Nancy. “Eight fathom … mud.”

      “Seven fathom,” said Nancy, looking round to find Captain Flint close beside her.

      “Stop her,” called Captain Flint, and the throbbing of the engine quickened for a moment as Roger instantly put it out of gear.

      “Hard a starboard!”

      “Starboard,” repeated John, putting the tiller over.

      “Let go!” called Captain Flint and himself obeyed his own order. There was a heavy splash and then the rattle and roar of the chain pouring out through the fairlead on the stem.

      “Finished with engine.”

      The throbbing of the engine turned to a cough and ended.

      The Sea Bear was at anchor. Looking over the side Dick could see small flecks of foam moving slowly past her as she swung. Looking away from her he could see nothing at all but white mist.

      “Have we got in?” Nancy was asking.

      “We’re in,” said Captain Flint. “But I wouldn’t like to swear to the exact spot. Lend a hand to get that dinghy over.”

      There was a rush to set up the davits and in a few minutes the dinghy was swung out and lowered into the water.

      “John in charge of the ship,” said Captain Flint. “Come on, Nancy. Bring the lead. Somebody keep on ringing the bell … all the time. We’re not going far, but it may help us not to lose you.”

      He rowed away, with Nancy in the stern coiling the lead-line at her feet. In a few moments the dinghy, with Nancy and the skipper in it, was no longer even a dark blob in the mist. It had gone. Listening for the gentle splash of the oars, the rest of the crew were looking at each other as if to ask what was going to happen next.

      “We’re close in shore anyhow,” said John. “Hear that grouse again?”

      “And anchored,” said Susan. “Well, it’s much better than being at sea in a fog.”

      “We may have to shift again,” said John. “We may be too near in.”

      “Is that what they’ve gone to find out?” said Dorothea.

      “What about Peggy?” said Susan. “He forgot about her. She isn’t wanted up there now.”

      “Come along down, Peggy,” called John.

      “BELL!” A shout came at them out of the mist.

      “Ting … ting … ting … ting … ting …” came the answer. The shout had met Roger just as he came happily up from the engine room after shutting off the petrol and giving the engine a wipe over with an oily rag.

      “He said we were to keep on ringing,” said Titty, and took the rag with which Roger was wiping his fingers and used it to wipe the grease off her own.

      “All right,” said Roger, “I will,” and he kept the bell ringing, “Ting … ting … ting … ting …”

      “Quiet a minute,” said John, coming aft from the foredeck where he had been making a neat stow of the staysail so that it could be hoisted again at a moment’s notice. “Listen!”

      “Seven fathom,” they heard Nancy’s voice away in the mist.

      “Ting … ting … ting …”

      “And again.” That was Captain Flint.

      “Eight fathom.”

      Aboard the Sea Bear they listened for the oars, trying to make out where the dinghy was.

      “Seven fathom.”

      “Where now?” said Titty. “That sounded as if Nancy was close by.”

      “Somewhere astern,” said Peggy. “They’ve been moving round that way. Pheeeu! It was clammy up there.”

      “Could you see anything?” asked Dorothea.

      “Not a thing,” said Peggy. “But I’ve got ears.”

      “Good long ones,” said Roger.

      “Let me get at that boy,” said Peggy.

      “Bearing about west,” said John.

      “BELL!”

      “Ting … ting …” “Shut up Peggy, I’ve got to keep ringing.” “Ting … ting … ting …”

      “Eight fathom.”

      “That sounded off the port bow,” said John.

      “Ting … ting … ting …”

      “Seven fathom.”

      “Amidships now,” said John. “Funny how hard it is to tell.”

      “There they are,” cried Titty. Dimly, a shadow dinghy had shown for a moment.

      “That’s a bit too near,” they heard Captain Flint’s voice. “Half a minute … now, try again.”

      “Seven and a half.”

      “Ting … ting … ting …”

      “John!”

      “Sir!” John shouted back into the whiteness.

      “Have the kedge ready.”

      “Aye, aye, Sir … Come on, Susan,” said John, and ran forward.

      “That means we’re all right,” said Titty.

      “Does it?” said Dorothea.

      “Of course it does,” said Peggy. “He’s going to put the other anchor down. We’re going to stop where we are for the night.

      The shadow dinghy showed again, clearer now, and was presently alongside.

      “Hop out, Nancy, and give them a hand when they’re paying out the kedge rope.”

      “All ready with the kedge,” called John.

      Nancy was aboard, very wet with working the lead. Captain Flint brought the dinghy under the bows. John lowered the smaller anchor.

      “Not in the boat. Half a minute. Hold it so, while I get it slung from the stern. Good lad. That’s the way. Now, pay out rope and give a shout when you’re nearing the end. It’s made fast isn’t it?”

      “Just СКАЧАТЬ