They pulled up the anchor, and, setting the sail, continued their repast, while the canoe drifted along with the flood tide. With a fair wind and tide, they now made rapid progress, and Elm Island, with the house, was soon in full view. They were so wet with hauling in their lines, and the wind from the sea was so damp and chilly, that they were obliged to take turns at the oars to keep themselves warm.
While they were thus engaged, Fred, who was steering, exclaimed, “I see a smoke in Captain Rhines’s cove.”
“So do I,” said John, “and a blaze, too; what can that be for?”
“I expect,” said Charlie, “Uncle Isaac is there, and has got a fire—won’t that be good?—to dry our wet clothes; and won’t he laugh when he comes to see all these fish? We couldn’t have carried fifty weight more; she almost dips her side under every time she rolls. Keep her off a little, Fred, so that I can see by the point.”
Fred changed the direction of the canoe, thus enabling them to look into the cove.
“Why, he’s got two fires, a big and a little one; and there’s Tige along with him.”
“I tell you, boys,” said Fred, “I like to eat; I think half the fun of these times is, that things taste so good out doors. It feels so good, too, when you are wet, tired, and a little chilly, to stretch out before a good, roaring fire!”
“That’s so,” replied John; “and when you make the fire of old logs and stumps, with great prongs on them, to sit and eat, and see the blaze go krinkle krankle in and out among the roots, that go all criss-cross, and every which way.”
“When we start off so in the night,” said Charlie, “find a fishing-ground, and get lots of fish, it makes a fellow feel as though he was somebody.”
“Kind of mannish,” said John.