The wind continued strong, the waves were higher than ever, but the brothers had gained more confidence in the sailing qualities of the boat and in their own ability to handle it. Less water was being shipped, and by bailing when they had a chance, they managed to keep it from rising too high. Now that the sky was clearing and there was more light on the lake, they could see farther across it. As the boat rose to the top of a wave, Blaise said suddenly, “L’isle du Paté.”
Hugh looked quickly and, before the bateau pitched down between the waves, he caught a glimpse of a compact, abrupt, black mass towering from the water not many miles to his right. There seemed to be no chance of reaching the mouth of the Kaministikwia though. To turn and run in past the south side of Pie Island was out of the question. The square sail would be worse than useless, and the laden bateau would inevitably be swamped in the trough of the waves.
The stars were waning in the paling sky. The short summer night was drawing to a close and dawn was approaching. South and west of Pie Island and nearer at hand, lower lines of shore appeared, the chain of islands from one of which the adventurers had set out for the Isle Royale. Those islands, across several miles of heaving water, were still too far away to be reached. Wind and waves were carrying the bateau by. The sun, coming up in an almost clear sky, found the boat still running southwest on a course almost parallel with the unattainable chain of islands.
As the hours passed, the boys were encouraged to discover that they were drawing gradually nearer and nearer to the islands on the right. What was still better, they were bearing straight towards land ahead, continuous, high land they knew must be the main shore. It seemed that they must reach the mainland not many miles to the southwest of the place where the chain of islands diverged from it. Hugh had long since ceased to be particular where he landed, if it was only in some spot where food might be obtained. Rations the day before had been very scanty, and he was exceedingly hungry.
The wind was strong but steady, the waves long and high. The bateau, as it plunged down into the trough, continued to ship a little water, but the boys kept it down by bailing when a hand and arm could be spared. They were borne nearer and nearer to the land. As they ran past a group of small islets not more than a half mile distant, with a larger and higher island showing beyond them, Hugh glanced that way and considered trying to turn.
Blaise guessed his brother’s thought. “The mainland is not far now,” he said, “and we go straight towards it. Let us go on until we can land without danger to the furs. There will be more chance to find food on the mainland also.”
Both of the younger boy’s arguments had weight with Hugh. He gave up the idea of attempting to turn, and they went on with wind and waves. At the end of another hour they were bearing down upon an irregular, rocky point.
“Is that island or mainland, do you think?” Hugh inquired.
“Mainland,” was the unhesitating reply. “I remember the place. Have I not passed it three times in the last two moons?”
Hugh made no answer. He himself must have passed that spot twice within two months, but there were so many rocky points along the shore. Hugh was observing enough in the white man’s way, but he did not see how Blaise could remember all those places and tell them apart.