Now, Captain Bob's "gig" was exceedingly small; so small, and of such
a grotesque shape, that the sailors christened it the Pill Box; and
by this appellation it always went. In fact, it was a sort of
"sulky," meant for a solitary paddler, but, on an emergency, capable
of floating two or three. The outrigger was a mere switch, alternately
rising in air, and then depressed in the water.

Assuming the command of the expedition, upon the strength of my being
a sailor, I packed the Long Doctor with a paddle in the bow, and then
shoving off, leaped into the stern; thus leaving him to do all the
work, and reserving to myself the dignified sinecure of steering. All
would have gone on well, were it not that my paddler made such clumsy
work that the water spattered, and showered down upon us without
ceasing. Continuing to ply his tool, however, quite energetically, I
thought he would improve after a while, and so let him alone. But by
and bye, getting wet through with this little storm we were raising,
and seeing no signs of its clearing off, I conjured him, in mercy's
name, to stop short, and let me wring myself out. Upon this, he
suddenly turned round, when the canoe gave a roll, the outrigger flew
overhead, and the next moment came rap on the doctor's skull, and we
were both in the water.

Fortunately, we were just over a ledge of coral, not half-a-fathom
under the surface. Depressing one end of the filled canoe, and
letting go of it quickly, it bounced up, and discharged a great part
of its contents; so that we easily baled out the remainder, and again
embarked. This time, my comrade coiled himself away in a very small
space; and enjoining upon him not to draw a single unnecessary
breath, I proceeded to urge the canoe along by myself. I was