At eight o\'clock on the following morning the Spindrift\'s navigation party "fell in" on the deck of the Olivette. Each member carried a couple of blankets rolled in a ground-sheet, haversack containing toilet requirements in the outer pocket, and rations in the inner one. In addition, Mr. Graham had a pair of binoculars slung across his shoulders, and carried a bundle of charts. Patrol Leader Desmond was responsible for the bulky volumes, The Channel Pilot, Lists of Lights, and the Admiralty Tide Tables. Findlay was additionally burdened with a camp kettle with a folding handle, while Hayes acted as "emergency man" to relieve the others of their additional gear in turn.

"Good luck and bon voyage!" exclaimed Mr. Armitage. "We\'ll keep a look out for you when you approach the Wight. We\'re generally cruising about there when we haven\'t any particular object in view."

"I suppose you\'ll make Falmouth to-day," remarked Mr. Graham.

Mr. Armitage glanced aloft, where the clouds were scudding fairly rapidly across the sky.

"Glass is falling," he replied. "I think we\'ll keep inside the breakwater to-day. Look here, Graham, suppose we run you up the Tamar. It will knock about twelve miles off your journey."

"Thanks awfully," said Mr. Graham frankly.

"We don\'t know the Tamar," continued Mr. Armitage, "but there\'s no reason why we shouldn\'t find our course up the river. It won\'t be the first time we\'ve had to navigate strange waters. It will be rather fun. Start her up, lads."

In five minutes the crew of the Olivette had their able little craft ready to get under way. The warps holding her to the Unity were cast off, and the boat began to gather way.

As usual, Mr. Armitage left the navigation to his Patrol Leader, merely standing by ready to correct any possible error that might result in a serious mishap. So Woodleigh, with a large-scale chart of "The Approaches to Plymouth", was in the wheelhouse, giving the course to Flemming at the wheel.

Warkworth was in charge of the motor, and, as was the invariable custom in crowded waters, kept within arm\'s length of the clutch. The rest of the Sea Scouts were on deck taking in the ever-changing view with the deepest interest.

Drake\'s Island glided past on the port beam. The intricate narrows between Devil\'s Point and Cremyll were safely negotiated, and the expansive Hamoaze, a sheltered sheet of water large and deep enough to accommodate the navies of the world, came into view.

Assisted by the strong flood-tide, the Olivette made rapid progress past the Royal Dockyard and Keyham Yard to starboard, and with warships of all sizes and descriptions lying at moorings on their port hand.

"There\'s a bridge right ahead of us, sir," reported Rayburn. "Shall we have to lower our mast to go under it?"

"How high is our mast?" asked the Scoutmaster gravely.

"Twenty-five feet, sir," replied Rayburn promptly.

"We may just do it, then," rejoined Mr. Armitage. "You needn\'t bother about unshackling the forestay just yet. Wait and see what the clearance of the bridge looks like when we get a bit nearer."

A couple of minutes later Rayburn came aft again. "I think we\'ll just manage it, sir," he reported.

"Very well; carry on," was the response.

It was not long before the two miles of river below the bridge were covered, and when the Olivette glided serenely under one of the wide and massive spans Rayburn positively blushed. What he had taken to be a low bridge was in reality the famous Saltash Bridge, with a clearance of a hundred feet.

"That\'s one up against you, Rayburn!" exclaimed Hepburn, and in the general laugh the embarrassed Sea Scout went below.

"Ease her down, Flemming," suggested Mr. Armitage. "We\'re getting into an intricate waterway, and if we touch with a lot of way on we may do ourselves damage."

Above Saltash Bridge the Tamar contracts considerably. What it loses in breadth it gains in scenery, for on either side high ground crowned with trees made a picturesque setting to the tidal estuary.

"We\'re in luck," said Woodleigh, pointing to a small paddle-steamer ahead. "She\'ll be our pilot."

In a few minutes the Olivette had overhauled the paddle-boat sufficiently to be right in her foamy wake. Speed was still further reduced until the distance between the two craft was evenly maintained.

"Woodleigh will make one of the smartest coastal navigators going," observed Mr. Armitage to his brother Scoutmaster. "He knows all the \'tricks of the trade\' already. He\'d make a capital master of a tug or coasting vessel, but curiously enough he hasn\'t shone at deep-sea navigation. I tried to teach him to work out a position by sextant, but it was hopeless."

"And yet, on the other hand," rejoined Mr. Graham, "how many seamen one meets who are absolutely out of it when navigating in shallow waters. I\'ve seen Royal Navy men—jolly smart fellows at their work—\'tied up in knots\' when compelled by circumstances to navigate shallow, intricate channels, through which yachtsmen and fishermen venture with impunity."

Calstock, a small village boasting a magnificent stone railway bridge across the river, came into sight. This was the Olivette\'s limit as far as the Tamar was concerned. Berthing alongside the quay and astern of the steamer that had perforce acted as a pilot, the crew once more bade their guests and fellow Sea Scouts good luck.

Mr. Graham, armed with an Ordnance map, "set the course ", aiming as far as possible to keep off the highroad. This meant loss of speed; but on the other hand it was preferable to tramping stolidly along a hard-surfaced highway.

The lads were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Tramping after a sea voyage came as a complete change. ............