“Go and ask. No; leave him alone,” said Brazier, altering his mind. “He’ll take us into a suitable place, I daresay.”
Just then Shaddy, from where he was steering, shouted to the men, who lowered the sail at once; but the boat still glided on straight for the shore.
“Why, he’s going to run her head right into the bank,” cried Rob, though the said bank was rendered invisible by the curtain of pendent boughs and vines which hung right down to the water.
“How beautiful!” exclaimed Brazier, as he gazed at clusters of snowy blossoms draping one of the trees. “We must have some of those, Rob.”
“I say,” cried Joe, “what makes the boat keep on going?”
“Impetus given by the sail,” replied Brazier. “But it couldn’t have kept on all this time,” cried the lad, “and we’re going faster.”
“We do seem to be,” said Brazier; “but it is only that we are in an eddy. There always is one close in by the banks of a swift stream.”
“But that goes upward while the stream goes down,” cried Joe. “This is going straight in toward the trees.”
“Better sit down, every one,” shouted Shaddy. “Lower that spar, my lads,” he added, in the patois the men used.
Down went the mast in a sloping position, so that it rested against the canvas cabin. But Rob hardly noticed this in the excitement of their position. For there was no doubt about it: some invisible force had apparently seized the boat, and was carrying it swiftly forward to dash it upon the shore.