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The two little ships were swinging astern of the houseboat. Their captains and crews were up on the afterdeck drinking fizzy lemonade with Captain Flint, who had called at Rio on his way down the lake from Beckfoot and had brought a whole case of it, just the stuff for tropical days, in the Beckfoot motor launch which was moored alongside. Everybody was a little deaf, because not only had Captain Flint welcomed them with a salute of guns as they sailed into Houseboat Bay, but he had kept his promise and loaded and reloaded the little cannon, while Roger, still playing Long John Silver and leaning on his crutch, fired it with a long taper, not once only, but again and again. The smell of gunpowder hung about the houseboat as it had during the battle of last year.

“With the wind like this,” Captain Flint was saying, “northerly, pretty well straight down the lake, you’ll be beating all the way to the Amazon River, and that’s where the race must finish because they’re expecting you to a feast ashore at Beckfoot.”

“And we had one feast yesterday, when mother came to Swallowdale,” said Titty.

“By the time you get to Beckfoot to-day, you’ll be ready for another,” said Captain Flint. “I heard something about strawberry ices.”

“Anybody can eat a strawberry ice, any time,” said Roger. “They don’t take any room like other sorts of food.”

“That’s true,” said Captain Flint. “But about this race. All beat and no run is no test of a ship. You’d better start here, sail down the lake, round Wild Cat Island, and then finish in the Amazon River, the first ship past the boathouse to win.”

“Which side of Wild Cat Island on the way down?” asked Nancy.

“Whichever you like, so long as you sail all round it, and go down one side and up the other.”

“And which way through the islands at Rio?” asked John.

“Take your choice. Each skipper uses his own judgment. Now, I’ll give you two guns for a start. The first gun means you’ve two minutes to go. At one minute to go, I’ll wave my handkerchief. At the second gun, you’re off, and may the best ship win. Until the second gun goes neither ship must cross a line drawn between the houseboat’s mast and the northern point of this bay. Anybody who does has to come and cross it again after the gun goes. Understand?”

The two captains nodded.

“Are you coming, too, in the launch?” asked Roger.

“Too much to do here,” said Captain Flint. “Shore life ends for me to-morrow, and I’m coming back to live aboard.”

“And we’re going back to Wild Cat Island,” said Roger.

“And everything’s going to be even better than last year.”

“By the way, Able-seaman,” said Captain Flint, “what have you done with the parrot?”

“He’s taking care of the camp. We took him with us yesterday.”

“We couldn’t have him with us, racing,” said Susan.

“Think if he fell overboard and we had to pick him up and lose the race,” said John.

“All aboard!” said Nancy.

“Muster your crew, Mister Mate,” said John.

Two minutes later everybody was aboard his own ship except Roger, who, with his crutch slung about his neck was allowed to come down the rope ladder from the houseboat into the Swallow, as if he was a pilot leaving a liner at sea.

“That’s that,” said Captain Flint, as Roger let go. “Now then. I’ll fire the first gun as soon as you’ve both got sail set and look like being ready.”

“How do you think the sail’s setting?” asked John. “What about getting the peak a wee bit higher?”

“Will it go?” asked Susan, looking up at the brown sail through half-closed eyes. In that sunshine she was glad that Swallow’s sail was brown and not glaring white like Amazon’s.

“Another half-inch,” said John, swigging on the halyard. “Ease off that tackle a moment till I get the peak right up. Now bring the boom down. Handsomely. Stop. So. The wind’ll flatten out those wrinkles as soon as she’s out of the bay. . . .”

Bang!

A cloud of grey smoke blew away from the foredeck of the houseboat, and they saw Captain Flint reload the little cannon and stand beside it waiting, looking at the watch in his hand.

Nancy and Peggy in Amazon were also ready, and the two little ships were sailing to and fro in the bay, their skippers watching each other, each skipper hoping to be sailing for the line when the second gun should go, and near enough to it to be over it and away without losing a second.

“You watch for the handkerchief, Titty,” said Susan. “And, Roger, we shan’t want you forward until we’ve rounded the island. Stow yourself down there by the middle thwart and keep your hurt foot well out of the way.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Roger.

“He’s waved his handkerchief,” said Titty.

“One more minute to go,” said John. “I do wish I hadn’t lost the seconds-hand off my watch. Listen! They’ve got theirs all right. They’ll know to a second when the gun’s coming.”

Amazon came gliding down towards them in the smooth, sheltered water, and they saw Peggy’s head bent, looking at something in her hand, and heard her voice, loud and eager, counting the seconds. “Forty . . . thirty-five . . . thirty . . . twenty-five.”

Then they heard Nancy, “Shut up, you tame galoot. Don’t count so loud.” They heard no more.

“There can’t be more than five seconds now,” said John. “Nancy’s going for the line. Come on.” He swung the little ship round and headed for the mouth of the bay, between the houseboat and the northern promontory. Amazon, too, was reaching out. Both vessels were on the starboard tack and not more than a dozen yards apart, but Amazon was just a little astern of Swallow.

“We’re nearly on the line now,” said John, glancing to and fro between the houseboat and the point. “We’ll have to stop her or she’ll be across it before the gun goes.”

“He’s bending over the gun,” said Titty.

“Can’t help it. We’re too soon. I’ve got to luff,” said John, and he brought Swallow up into the wind with her sail all ashake.

Bang!

The gun went, and the smoke had not blown away before Amazon, already sailing hard, was over the line and away. John put his helm up, brought his ship on the wind again, and was soon after her, but precious seconds had been lost, and Amazon was a dozen yards ahead as the two little ships left the bay, and the mates paid out the mainsheets, and, with booms out on the port side, the run down to the island began.

“My fault,” said John. “Bother that seconds hand.”

“Never mind,” said Susan. “It’s a long race. We’ll make up that little bit.”

“There’ll be more than that to make up,” said John. “Look at her. She’s creeping away from us now. They’ve got their centre-board up. They can always run faster than we can.”

There was no doubt about it. Little by little Amazon was adding to her lead. John and Susan hauled in the mainsheet a few inches and let it out again, trying to find just the place where the sail did most good. But it made no difference. Running before the wind and in fairly smooth water, Amazon was the faster boat, though not by very much.

“We’ll make it up again when it comes to beating,” said Susan.

“If only there’s a bit more wind,” said John. “Swallow likes something she can feel.”

“That’s more like,” said Titty a little later, as the wind strengthened, and a murmur of water came from under Swallow’s forefoot. “You can hear she’s pleased with it.”

“Nancy can jolly well sail,” said John, glancing over his shoulder at the wake of the Swallow, after watching the wake of the Amazon, straight as if it had been laid down on the water with a ruler.

“Are they going to keep ahead of us all the way?” asked Roger.

“The race has hardly begun yet,” said the mate.

The Amazon was already close to the northern end of Wild Cat Island, heading as if to pass outside it, when, suddenly, as if Nancy had changed her mind at the last moment, she changed course and headed for the channel between the island and the Dixon’s farm landing.

Swallow’s wake waggled for a moment.

“They’ll get smoother water that side of the island,” said John to himself, “and smooth water suits Amazon best. But there’s more wind outside and Swallow wants all she can get.”

“We ought to make up a lot keeping down this side,” said Susan.

Swallow’s wake straightened out again as John made up his mind and held her to her course. A moment later they could no longer see the Amazon. The island was between the racing ships.

“We must be gaining on them like fun,” said John. “We may even get to the foot of the island first.”

“It’ll be awful, beating up the other side if there’s no wind,” said Titty.

John and Susan looked at each other. There was nothing to be done now. “Down one side and up the other.” The best they could hope for was a lucky gust or two to help them in the narrows, and to make as much as they could now while they still had the wind.

“Isn’t it lovely to think we’ll be back on the island to-morrow,” said Titty, as they rushed along, close by the well-known shore.

“Lucky nobody has collared it while we’ve been away,” said John.

“Look out for the rocks off the low end,” said Susan.

“We won’t try to go too close, anyway,” said John, “or the trees’ll blanket us. If we go far enough out to keep some of the wind, we’ll be clear of all rocks.”

They churned past the low end of the island and Amazon was not yet in sight. At the foot of the island, in the lee of the trees and the big rocks that hid the harbour, was an oily patch of smooth water. John watched it carefully. At the edge of it there was not so much a ripple as a promise of one.

“That’ll do us,” said John. “Ready for a jibe. Rattle in the mainsheet, Mister Mate. Round she comes. Steady. That’s enough. We’ll be close-hauled the moment we’re clear. Now, haul in!”

“Here’s Amazon,” squealed Roger.

Amazon was gliding slowly towards them in the smooth water of the inner channel. Swallow had reached the low end of the island first, and now, after turning round the outer rocks, was coming, close-hauled, to meet her.

“She’s still running free. We’re close-hauled. She’s got to keep out of our way,” said John.

The Amazon met them and passed smoothly under their stern.

“Hurrah,” shouted Roger. “We’ve caught up yards and yards.”

Nancy laughed. “Just you wait before shouting ‘Hurrah’ till you’ve been in there a minute.”

Swallow moved more and more slowly, standing across towards the Dixon’s farm landing. There was hardly a ripple on the water. The island trees and the promontory above Shark’s Bay cut off most of the wind. The noise under the forefoot died away, and looking astern John saw Amazon, now clear of the outer rocks, come close to the wind and heel over to a puff that he wished with all his heart he could borrow to help poor Swallow along.

“Of course they were right to come down inside,” he said. “Running with hardly any wind is not so bad, but beating when there’s no wind to beat against is awful. And now they’re clear and can make long boards in a good wind, and we can only make short ones in no wind at all. They’ll have made up all we gained and more before we get out again.”

“Can’t we row?” said Roger.

“Rowing’s not allowed,” said John. “Don’t pinch her, Susan. Our only hope’s to keep her moving.”

“She’d head much nearer to the wind.”

“But she wouldn’t move so well. Get your weight a bit farther forward, you two.”

To and fro and to and fro again the Swallow beat in the narrow sheltered passage between the island and the eastern shore of the lake, while, outside, with a good wind, Amazon was making up in a single board, right across to the western shore, all she had lost by taking the inner passage on the run down.

“It’s one up to Nancy,” said John. “Two up, counting the start.”

“Shall we ever catch her?” said Roger.

“Can’t tell, till we see where she is when we get clear of the island again.”

“Nobody’s touched the fireplace,” said Titty, who had the telescope and was looking at the island. “I can just see it.”

“Bother the fireplace,” said Captain John. “Ready about. We’ll clear Look Out Point on this tack. Sing out as soon as you see them. I must watch the sail.”

“There they are,” called Roger, as Swallow, now on the starboard tack, sailed out close under the northern headland on which he had spent so many happy hours with the telescope.

“Coming this way,” said Titty.

“They’re on the port tack,” said Susan.

“They must have gone about by Cormorant Island,” said John. “They’ll fetch nearly to Houseboat Bay, the way they’re heading. They’re yards and yards ahead of us again.”

“Are they?”

“Of course they are. If we were to go about now we shouldn’t fetch anywhere near Houseboat Bay, and if we go on as we are they’ll be at the houseboat before we’ve gone far enough to head for it. Still, we’re out of that channel now. A bit more wind is what we want.”

“Well, it’s coming,” said Titty. “Look!”

A black patch of wind-combed water was sweeping down the lake marking the track of a squall coming down from the mountains.

“They’ll be getting it first,” said Susan.

“Amazon won’t like it,” said John. “She’s not as stiff as Swallow. Besides, all together, we must weigh more than them. Look, she’s feeling it already.”

They saw the little, white-sailed Amazon, far out in the middle of the lake, heel suddenly as the squall struck her. They saw her luff and come up into the wind with sail shaking for a moment. It filled a moment later, but again she heeled over and again she came up into the wind.

“They’ve got all they want,” said John.

“We’ll be having it in a minute,” said Susan. “Here it is.”

“Hang on, Susan. Don’t ease unless you have to. She’ll stand it all right. Keep her down to it. Good little ship.”

The squall whistled down on them. Swallow heeled over, picked herself up, and shot forward, the foam spirting from her bows. There was no need for her to come up into the wind. She was glad of the whole force of it to send her flying on her way.

At this point Swallow, on the starboard tack, was racing towards the western shore of the lake. Amazon, on the port tack, was scurrying towards the eastern, but was already so far ahead that when next she went about she was off Houseboat Bay, while Swallow, on the same tack, would, if she had gone about, have been only just able to make that point that Amazon had already reached. But John was taking no interest in Houseboat Bay, and held on his course, for the best wind was in the middle of the lake.

The squall passed, and once more there was only a light wind. John and Nancy were now sailing tack for tack. When Swallow went about, Amazon did the same, as if to be sure of keeping the distance she had already gained. For some time no one in Swallow could tell whether they were overhauling her or not. At last both little ships were nearing the islands by Rio, both on starboard tack, heading about north-west. Amazon, of course, was much nearer to the islands than Swallow.

“She’ll have to make up her mind pretty quickly,” said John.

“What about?” asked Titty.

“Whether to go through Rio Bay,” said John.

“They always do go that way,” said Susan.

“I know,” said John.

Just as he said it, they saw Amazon’s white sail flap as she came up into the wind and went about.

“Of course they’re going by Rio,” said Susan. “Aren’t we?”

“We’ll hang on a bit longer,” said John. “We’ll lose nothing by that, anyway.”

“We lost by not following them last time.”

“Yes,” said John. “They were right at Wild Cat Island, but they may be wrong here. They went about before they could see what it was like up the western side of the islands.”

“It’s narrow there,” said Susan.

“But look at the way Rio Bay is sheltered by the hills and by the trees on Long Island and by the trees on the point beyond. Well, we’ll know in half a minute.”

“They’ve passed the point of Long Island now,” said Roger.

“Good,” said John. “They can’t turn back. And now, look at that!”

The wind was driving clear down the narrower channel between the islands and the western side of the lake. It was blowing down that narrow passage straight from the Arctic. The channel was rippled with sharp little waves from shore to shore. And already Amazon was slipping quietly, slowly, on even keel, into the calms and smooth water of the usual channel under the lee of Long Island.

“We’ll beat them yet,” said John, and held on his course into the narrow channel along the western shore. “Short tacks it’ll be, but a good wind to make them with. We’ll beat her yet.”

“She’s behind the trees now, I can’t see her,” said Roger.

“You don’t need to,” said John. “We’ll see where she is when we come out the other side of the islands. Ready about!”

Swallow shot up into the wind and a moment later, heeled over on the other tack, was dashing back across the narrow channel. Narrow as it was, every yard of it was good sailing. From shore to island, from island to shore and back again, never for a moment was Swallow without a wind to send her singing on her way. “Nancy can’t have found anything like this in there behind Long Island,” said John, half aloud and half to himself.

They were nearly through the channel, heading for the most northerly of the islands on that side of the lake, when they saw Amazon’s white sail standing to meet them out from Rio Bay.

“We’ve beaten her! We’ve beaten her!” shouted Roger.

“It’s a near thing anyhow,” said John. “We’ll know better in a minute or two. Bother this island. Ready about!”

Swallow went about just before coming under the island and headed, now, like Amazon, on starboard tack for the western shore. She reached it, went about again, and, on port tack now, hurried away to meet her rival.

“It’s a very near thing,” said John again, “but she’s still a wee bit ahead.”

“And the wind’s dropping,” said Roger, as if he were talking of someone dangerously ill.

The two little ships swept nearer and nearer to each other.

“We’ve got to keep out of their way,” murmured John to himself.

“Why?” said Titty. “Why should we?”

“We’re on port tack,” said John. “Not that it makes any difference,” he added. “She’ll clear us easily.”

“You’ve caught up a lot too much,” shouted Captain Nancy, cheerfully, as the Amazon passed across the Swallow’s bows with twenty yards to spare.

“Not quite enough,” shouted Captain John.

Over his shoulder he was watching the promontory on the southern side of the entrance to the Amazon River. “We mustn’t stand on one second longer than we need,” he almost whispered.

“Amazon’s going about,” called Roger.

“She’ll have to look out for us if we go about now,” said John, “for then she’ll be on port tack and we’ll be on starboard.”

He glanced again over his shoulder at the promontory.

“There’s shallow water off the end of it,” he murmured.

Titty was patting the main thwart, just to encourage Swallow. “Go it! Go it!” she was saying.

“I think we can just do it,” said John. “Ready about!”

“Too soon,” said Susan. “Too soon. We can’t head above the shallows.”

John said nothing, but took the main sheet from Susan.

Amazon, on the port tack, was coming towards them, Nancy glancing now at Swallow, now at her own sail, now over her shoulder at the point. Swallow had made up a little and Nancy was not sure whether she could cross her bows. She could, perhaps, have just done it, but, instead, went about and, like John, headed for the mouth of the river.

The two little ships were now at last on the same course, and Amazon was only ten yards ahead.

“Oh, do go it!” said Titty.

“Don’t forget the shallows,” said Susan.

“I haven’t,” said John, and whispered to Susan. Susan stared at him.

“It’s the only chance,” he said.

Susan whispered to the others. “Hang on to something. Hang on tight, and keep just where you are whatever we do.”

“What for?” said Roger. But there was no time to explain.

Beyond the point they could already see the reed-beds on the northern side of the river, the reed-beds where Nancy and Peggy had lurked in Amazon the night of last year’s war.

The wind fell away almost to nothing.

Titty whistled, bits of two different tunes.

“Shut up,” said John. “We want a lull now more than anything.”

Close ahead of them was Amazon, now almost at the point, and Nancy was wishing she had held on a little longer before trying to head for the river. She, too, remembered the shallows, and was thinking of the centre-board deep below the keel of her ship. There was no doubt about it. She would have to make one more short board out into the lake to be able to clear the shallows and get into the river.

“They’re going about again,” shouted Roger.

Just and only just Amazon cleared Swallow as she headed out once more.

“You’ll be running aground,” shouted Peggy, as Swallow held on her way.

“I can see the bottom,” shouted Roger.

“Now then, Susan,” said John.

“Hold tight, Roger,” said Susan.

Just as Swallow came over the shallows at the point, Susan and John threw all their weight over on her lee side and brought her gunwale so low that a few drops lapped across it. This, of course, lifted her keel. The wind had dropped to next to nothing, and so, on her beam ends, Swallow slid across the shallows and into the river.

“Deep water,” said Susan, and in a moment John had flung his weight back to windward and Swallow rose again to an even keel, just in time to meet a little puff that carried her up the river to the Beckfoot boathouse. The same puff caught the Amazon, but that last short board out into the lake had lost her twenty yards and more, and Swallow slipped past the boathouse a full two lengths ahead of her.

“Well done, little ship,” cried Titty. “Well done! Well done!”

“Would we have lost if we’d touched?” asked Susan.

“I don’t know,” said John. “But anyhow, we didn’t touch.”

“You could see the minnows running away,” said Roger.

“Well done, Skipper,” shouted Captain Nancy. “I thought you’d made a mistake and headed in too soon. I never guessed you’d done it on purpose. Shiver my timbers. If only I’d thought of pulling up the centre-board over the shoals we might have done you. But I don’t know. I saw as soon as we went about for the river that we should have to make another tack, so I let her go a bit free. Perhaps I couldn’t have cleared the point itself. Jolly good race, anyhow.”

“I was a proper donkey running down outside Wild Cat Island and having to crawl back inside with no wind.”

“What about me never thinking that with this wind you might do better through the narrow channel than by coming into Rio Bay?”

“Good, good, good little ship,” said Titty.

“Lower away,” said Susan. “Take the gaff as it comes, Titty. Gather in the sail, Roger. No. Don’t try to get up.”

“So here you are,” said Mrs. Blackett. “And who won?”

“Who won?” asked the ship’s baby.

“Who won?” asked Mrs. Walker.

All three of them had come down to the boathouse to find the crews of the Swallow and the Amazon already stowing their sails.

“Hullo, mother.”

“Hullo, Bridgie.”

“How do you do?”

“Well, you scaramouches.”

“Who won?” said Bridget again.

“You did,” said Peggy. “At least your ship did.”

“John did what you told us father did in that race when he slipped over the shoals on his beam ends,” said Susan.

“It was jolly good work,” said Nancy, “and a fine race. We’ll have lots more.”

“And Swallow’s better than ever she was,” said Titty.

“She certainly looks very smart,” said Mrs. Blackett.

“I do believe she’s a wee bit better than Amazon in going to windward when there’s a squall,” said Nancy. “But when it comes to running, and we pick up our centre-board, Amazon simply slips away from her.”

“Hurry up now and come along to take part in the feast,” said Mrs. Blackett. “You must all be hungry by now.”

“We are,” said Nancy. “Bring out the roasted ox and broach a puncheon of Jamaica. It was great sailing.”