Both
were deeply grateful when at last the torrent bed widened, and they heard
the lap of ripples on a beach.
'I feel like those old Greek Johnnies,' said Roy, 'the ones who'd been
wandering for a year over there in Asia, and who chucked their helmets
into the air and yelled when they saw the sea.'
'Well, don't try any tricks of that sort here, old man,' Ken answered
dryly. 'Wait a jiffy. I'm going forward to get a squint at the beach.'
He crept away, bent double, and was gone for so long that Roy began to get
uneasy. But at last he saw Ken stealing back.
'What luck?' he whispered.
'None,' Ken answered in a tone of bitter disappointment.
'What--no boats?'
'Plenty of boats, but there are men behind them. I don't know how many,
but quite a lot. I don't even know whether they are troops. They are
sitting about on the shingle, talking and smoking. Anyhow there are too
many for us to tackle.'
Roy grunted. 'That's bad. But, see here, Ken, we've got to have a boat
some way or other.
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