She was six years old and Grenfell had not given
her a try-out. The consensus of opinion among the wise old
Newfoundland seamen who gathered on the wharf as she sailed was that
Doctor Grenfell and his crew were much like the three wise men of
Gotham who went to sea in a bowl. Still, not a man of them but would
have ventured forth upon the high seas in an ancient rotten old hull
of a schooner. They were acquainted with schooners and the coast,
while the little launch _Princess May_ was a new species of craft to
them, and was manned by green hands.
"'Tis a dangerous voyage for green hands to be makin'," said one, "and
that small boat were never meant for the sea."
"Aye, for green hands," said another. "They'll never make un without
mishap."
"If they does, 'twill be by the mercy o' God."
"And how'll they make harbor, not knowin' what to sail by?"
"That bit of a craft would never stand half a gale, and if she meets
th' ice she'll crumple up like an eggshell."
"And they'll be havin' some nasty weather, _I_ says. We'll never hear
o' _she_ again or any o' them on board.
Pages:
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84