As tired as dogs, but happy, they lay down. Fred exclaimed, “What is the matter with this bed? it seems to be going up and down.”
“It’s the motion of the boat that is in your head,” replied John.
Charlie was already snoring.
CHAPTER XVIII.
GENEROSITY AND PLUCK.
It was two o’clock in the morning, when Sally, who had the breakfast all ready, called the boys.
“The wind is north-west, and there will be no surf round the rocks,” said Ben, who was up to help them away.
“You are sure you remember the marks?”
“Yes, father; I’ve written them all down in my birch-bark book.”
There was a moderate breeze, the fag end of a north-wester, and the canoe, which was large, and had excellent oars, sail, and a first-rate steering paddle, went off before it rolling and going over the water at a great rate. They soon lost sight of the island, and saw nothing around them but the waves sparkling in the moonbeams, and the loom of the land like a dim black shadow on the horizon. The boys began to feel a kind of awe stealing over them, as the last glimpse of it faded from their sight, and they found themselves rushing into the unknown waste, for they were steering straight out to sea, without compass, or any guide other than to keep before the wind till the daylight should reveal to them the land astern.