“You guessed right, Thad!” said Giraffe, looking toward the patrol leader.
“About what?” demanded Step Hen.
“Why, that it’d be dangerous for us to try and stick to the old bug of a shanty boat, with all that wind blowing,” came the reply.
“Has she gone, Giraffe?” demanded Thad quickly, and the other nodded eagerly.
“Cleaned out, as sure as anything, and not a sign of her around, as far as I could see,” he went on to explain.
“Then it must have been the great big blast that set her adrift,” Davy added, doing his best to explain the mystery. “It was enough to whip her off the shore, with the water rising all the while. Well, that settles it for us.”
“How does it, Davy?” pleaded Bumpus.
“I mean we’re Crusoes at last, and the last link binding us to our beloved home is swept away,” the other continued, for the especial benefit of Bumpus, who was apt to take things too literally.
“Enough of that, Davy,” Thad broke in with; “you know we didn’t take so much stock in that clumsy boat, after all. It’s true we did talk about cutting some long setting-poles, and trying to make the shore when the water went down, but there will be other ways to reach the mainland when we’re ready, never you fear. Tell us about it, Giraffe.”
“Why, I took my time about getting there, you see, because I knew there wasn’t any need of hurrying, as we couldn’t do a thing to-day. Besides, Thad, I wanted to look around a little on the way, and find out if there was any sort of game on our little island. Well, there is, and I reckon, what with our guns and snares, we could keep ourselves from starving to death for a long while.”