One of them seemed to come right aft and look over the stern, and then stooped to the cleat where the painter had been fast.

Then both went to the helm, and bided there.

Neither looked into the cabin hatch, so far as I could tell.
A long, oily roller slipped from under me, and in its hollow I saw Dalfin.

He was learning to swim, with the little four-legged bench belonging to the helmsman as his support.

It had never entered my mind that the son of a chief could not swim.