CHAPTER XIV.
CHAP’S AMBASSADOR.
The stretch of white sand, of which Adam had spoken, was so far away that neither of the boys had noticed it; but the practised eyes of the sailor had singled it out as a place where a landing could be made, and toward it The Rolling Stone was now steered, Phœnix taking the tiller, and Adam using the pole whenever he could.
Phil was ordered to refresh himself with some crackers and cold meat, as it would be some time before they could have their coffee.
“I’m not going to eat anything,” said Phœnix, “till we have cooked a regular supper; but I tell you it’s jolly to think of getting something good and hot when we land.”
“That’s so,” said Adam.
And Phil assented heartily. But not one of them imagined how hot a thing was waiting for them.
The Rolling Stone thus moving slowly up the river, gradually came into sight of the keen-eyed maiden, who surveyed the water from the high ground in the vicinity of the Browns’ cabin, and, as we have seen, she informed Chap and his companions of its approach.
When the boat at last touched the shore, it was still light by the river, and Chap and the Indians were well concealed in the dusky recesses of the forest, not far from the water; and over the underbrush and between the trees Chap could catch sight of the little red pennant, made from an old handkerchief which he himself had hoisted to the topmast of The Rolling Stone.
The sight made him furious to rush down and recapture his boat; but the others restrained him. It was not time yet. The fellows must have no chance to push off and get away.