“Do you mean we can’t go on?” cried Mrs. Olmstead in horrified tones.
No one answered. The young men looked at each other, then looked off across the water to discover the nearest land. “There’s nothing to do but to row for it,” said Reed to Alvin, “and the longer we wait the farther out we’ll drift.”
“Then we’d better waste no time over it,” returned Alvin, clambering over the seats and drawing up the little trailer alongside. He crawled in, Reed following, and they plied the oars vigorously, the larger boat in tow. It was a hard pull, but by degrees the distance to shore lessened, and at last they reached dry land.
“Have we got to spend the night here?” asked little Mrs. Olmstead with a hysterical sob.
“There might be worse places,” said Bert. “There are no wild beasts or poisonous snakes.”
“But it will soon be dark, and we’ve no place to sleep,” responded his sister tremulously.
“You wouldn’t mind going to a dance and staying up pretty near all night,” retorted Bert.
“Don’t fuss, children; don’t fuss,” urged Hettie. “We’ll manage somehow. What worries me the most is that Mother will be distracted. She’ll think something dreadful has happened, that we’re drowned, or gobbled up by sharks, or some little thing like that.”
“Cousin Rindy will be worried, too,” remarked Ellen. “I wish there were some way to let her know we are safe. If we could only broadcast the news, for instance.”
“Don’t worry; we’ll find some way out,” Reed assured her. “The first thing is to see if we can find some sort of shelter before it gets too dark to explore, and then we’ll decide what to do next. Come on, boys, let’s see what the jungle has to disclose.”