Claude himself addressed them, laughingly. He did not often say much
face to face thus to his men.
"Men," he said, "we're going to have a forenoon on the ice."
"Hurrah!" was the shout.
Round the ship, dear reader, and for no one knows how far out seaward,
the water had been frozen into one smooth sheet of ice. Who could
resist it?
All the skates in the ship were had up, and, although there were hardly
enough, those who went without could slide. While the men waited the
next order, there was a scream of terror sounded forward. The mate ran
towards the fo'c'sle: there lay poor boy Bounce, bleeding; and standing
over him, Datchet, the only black sheep in the ship.
"What do you want with skates, hey?" he was saying.
He had robbed boy Bounce.
When Mr Lloyd ordered Datchet below for the day, the look--nay, scowl--
the man gave the mate was not easily forgotten.
But boy Bounce had the skates, his brow was bandaged, and when the order
was given, "All hands over the side!" boy Bounce was first to jump,
and was the merriest of all the mad and merry crew on that
never-to-be-forgotten morning.