Sam's head also ached, but he said nothing. Nobody knew what to suggest.
"One thing is certain; we can't remain out on the bosom of the ocean," said Dick.
"Better continue to pull southward," came from old Jerry. "There are lots of islands down that way. The map is full of 'em."
"Yes, the map is full of them," answered Dick. "But a quarter of an inch on the map means a hundred miles or two in reality."
Yet it was decided to row on, trusting to luck to strike some island, either large or small. It was now fiercely hot, and all hands perspired freely.
By the end of the afternoon the boys were worn out, and had to give up rowing. The girls were dozing in the stern, having covered their heads with a thin shawl, stretched from one gunwale to another. Tom and Sam were dizzy from the glare of the sun on the water.
"Another day like this will set me crazy," said the youngest Rover.
"I'd give ten dollars for a pair of blue goggles."
Old Jerry had been looking intently to the westward. Now he pointed in that direction.
"See that trail of smoke," he said. "Unless I am mistaken a steamship is sailing toward us!"
"A steamship!" cried Tom, and the words awoke the girls. "We must hail the vessel by all means."