They had fired a few shots at these, without effect, much to Phil’s disappointment, for he wished to take home some trophies of this trip, even if they were nothing but wings and tails of strange birds, when they met Adam returning with two small cans of milk.
The good sailor was in a great hurry to get back to his little bears, and he told the boys that they must come with him, for they would start off now as soon as they could, for he had noticed, when he was up at the house, that the wind had got round a little to the east, and that they, therefore, would be able to make pretty good headway.
But when the three arrived at the river-side, and found no boat and no Chap and no bears, their astonishment was so great that they could scarcely find words to express it.
“Has that boy gone off with the boat?” at last exclaimed Adam.
“I can scarcely believe it,” said Phil, “and yet there’s no knowing what Chap would do if an idea suddenly came into his head.”
“But Chap can’t sail a boat,” said Phœnix, “and he would never think of going out in a wind like this. Perhaps the boat got loose accidentally.”
“I don’t think that happened,” said Adam, who was scanning the river with his experienced eye, “for if she’s got off, she’d ’a’ blown down the river, and I can’t see a sign of her. Of course there’s no way of her gettin’ up-stream ag’in such a wind as this.”
As he spoke, Adam turned and looked up-stream, and then he caught sight of the dirty little boat which had been run ashore by the two untidy young men, and with a sudden “Hello!” he ran toward it, followed closely by the boys.
When he reached the boat, the sailor looked at it and in it and around it, but he said not a word.
“Whose boat can this be?” cried Phil. “It couldn’t have been here when we came.”