“Tut, tut, Martin,” replied the professor; “take things easy. I took notice that you were very glad to get in the boat day before yesterday, when that big alligator gave chase after you.”
“Oh! she were good enough then, professor. I don’t want a ’gator nosin’ aroun’ me; an’ this tub is good enough when that kind of work is goin’ on. But when you come right down ter sailin’, whar in blazes does this dod-rotted thing come in?”
“Have patience, Martin. We will reach those trees yonder in less than an hour. See! a favorable breeze is even now springing up.”
The professor was right. For the first time during their voyage upon the lake the wind was blowing in a direction suited to their course.
The hitherto flapping mainsail now bellied out, and the little craft went skipping through the water like a thing of life.
Even Martin Haypole was temporarily satisfied, and with his hand upon the tiller he watched the rapidly nearing forest in the swamp district.
The breeze kept up, and, sure enough, in a little while they arrived at the end of the lake proper.
As soon as they got among the trees, the breeze ceased to exist, and once more the sail flapped idly about the mast.
“I’ll be gosh-dinged if we won’t eat supper on land to-night, anyhow!” exclaimed the Yankee, as he pushed the boat, by means of a long pole, into a narrow creek, and made for a little island that was several feet above the level of the marsh.
“Good enough, Martin—good enough!” returned his companion, rubbing his hands. “I am agreeable, I assure you.”