Chapter Three.
Night Ashore.
I was brought back to the present by my uncle giving me a hearty slap on the shoulder.
“Ready to begin again, Nat?” he cried.
“Yes, uncle,” I said eagerly. “It seems like the old days come back.”
“Ship the rudder, then, while I hoist the sail. The skipper may be right, so let’s make use of this soft breeze to get to the mainland before the calm leaves us at the mercy of the currents.”
A few minutes later the boat careened over gently, and glided fast through the water, while I steered, making for an opening which Uncle Dick made out with his glass to be the mouth of a valley running up the country.
“It’s too far off to see all I want, Nat,” he said, as he closed his glass; “but I fancy we shall find a river there, and we’ll run in and try our luck. If there’s nothing attractive about the place, we’ll make a fresh start after a night’s rest, and go on coasting along south till we find the sort of place we want. How well the boat sails with her load!”
On we glided, with the vessel we had left gradually getting hull down as the afternoon wore on, while we passed no less than three tempting-looking wooded islets where we might have landed to pass the night; but Uncle Dick shook his head.