"Pull, boys.
Now, a cheer! they can't follow us against this tide." The men sent up a triumphant shout, and, as we swept round the next bend, we lost sight of the junks, and directly after of the two boats, the last I saw of them being that the crew of the second were dragging their companions of the first out of the water, and loading their own down to the gunwale edge.
"Now," cried Mr Brooke, "who's hurt ?" There was no answer for a moment or two.

Then one of the men said, with a grin-- "I arn't drownded, sir; but I shall ketch cold if something arn't done-- my feet's wet." "Yes, so velly wet," cried a plaintive voice, and Ching struggled up from the bottom of the boat, and stood up, showing his blue cotton garments to be drenched with water.
"What, have we sprung a leak ?" cried Mr Brooke.
"Yes, sir," said Tom Jecks, "she's got a hole in her skin here forrard; but if I might be so bold, sir, if you was to send Mr Ching to lean up agin it, we shouldn't hurt much." "Pull--pull steady," cried Mr Brooke.

"Here, take the tiller, Mr Herrick." He laid his gun behind us and handed me the rudder, before going right forward to the coxswain, while I sat envying the men their coolness as they sat pulling away nonchalantly enough, though the water was rising fast and nearly covered their bare feet and ankles, while it soon invaded the grating upon which my own boot-covered feet were placed.
"Much injured, sir ?" I shouted; and Mr Brooke gave me back poor Mercutio's answer to his friend, in _Romeo and Juliet_-- "'Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door: but 'tis enough; 'twill serve." "Here, my lads, one of you; I must have a frock." "Right, sir, mine'll do," said the coxswain, unfastening and dragging his white duck garment over his head.
This was soaked and wrung out to make it softer, and then thrust into the hole in our bows.
"There, you must sit forward here, and plant both feet against it, my lad," said Mr Brooke.
"Ay, ay, sir.

Men never knows what he may come to.

Fancy my toots being used to caulk a leak!" He, laughing, sat down on the forward thwart, and pressed his feet against the jacket.
"Now then, a man to bale," cried Mr Brooke, and the coxswain fished the tin baler out of the locker forward.