"Yes. That is, I didn't do much with the paddle,—except push off from the bank every now and then. The canoe seemed to come along pretty well. How that river does twist! And it's very narrow,—I should think the steamboat would stick."
The Captain opened his mouth helplessly, once or twice.
"Gosh sakes!" he said, "you warn't in no river. You was in
Pingree's Crik, or you wouldn't have got down here."
"I thought it seemed pretty narrow. But when I got out here—round that corner—and came out where it's so much broader, I couldn't make the canoe go at all, except backwards. The front end of her kept swinging round, for the river was running the wrong way. At last I ran right up on that island, and then I got out, for my foot had gone to sleep. You see I hadn't dared to move, the canoe wabbled so. And then I went to look at some critters that were crawling around in the water,—they looked like tennis-racquets, only their tails weren't quite big enough—"
"Horse-shoe crabs," said Ed Mason.
"I don't know what they were, but I got quite fascinated watching them, and the first thing I knew the island had grown smaller—"
"The tide was coming in," explained Jimmy.
"But where is your canoe?" I asked him, "what have you done with it?"
The astonished look came over the young man's face.
"Why, that's so! I wonder where it has gone?"