Things is too quiet to suit me, that's all.

No breeze, not a ripple a-top the water, nary a gull a-flyin' anywhere, an' the end o' the hottest day o' the year.

I ain't no weather-prophet, Trot, but any sailor would know the signs is ominous." "There's nothing wrong that I can see," said Trot.
"If there was a cloud in the sky even as big as my thumb, we might worry about it; but--look, Cap'n!--the sky is as clear as can be." He looked again and nodded.
"P'r'aps we can make the cave, all right," he agreed, not wishing to disappoint her.

"It's only a little way out, an' we'll be on the watch; so come along, Trot." Together they descended the winding path to the beach.

It was no trouble for the girl to keep her footing on the steep way, but Cap'n Bill, because of his wooden leg, had to hold on to rocks and roots now and then to save himself from tumbling.