At one time this seemed to be doubtful, but just as the captain announced his intention of dropping anchor for the night, Mr Bartlett hailed him from above.
“I can just see the opening in the reef over that low strip of sand.”
“How far off?”
“About a mile,” was the reply; and the speed being increased, they picked up the buoy they had left in the morning just as it was beginning to grow dark, having completely circumnavigated the island.
“I say, Mr Bartlett,” cried Jack suddenly, as the mate approached him, and he pointed toward the shore. “Wasn’t it just there that we killed the sharks?”
“Yes; just there. Can you see any back fins?”
“No; but where’s the wrecked canoe?”
The mate clapped his glass to his eye, and swept the shore for some minutes.
“Could it have been carried out to sea?” said Jack excitedly.
“No; hardly possible.”