“Oh!” exclaimed Paul, sitting up and looking around him. “I remember now! I was dreaming of home, and when I woke up I thought we were in camp. My, but I’m stiff and cold.”
“’Tis a kind of camp, but not a shore camp.”
As daylight grew the outlook appeared more dismal than ever. The fog if possible was more dense than the evening before, and while the boys slept a corner of the pan had broken off.
“Do you think we can mend the boat?” asked Paul.
“’Tis too dark yet,” answered Dan, “but we’ll be tryin’ soon as we can see.”
“I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten a thing since twelve o’clock yesterday.”
“So is I hungry, an’ we’ll be eatin’ while we can’t do nothin’ else.”
An investigation of the provision box disclosed a can of corned beef, three cans of baked beans, a small piece of bacon, a dozen ship’s biscuits, a few pounds of flour and some tea, left over from their fishing trip.