The young men wave their caps to the señor, who kisses his hand. Then they seize the oars, and off they push.
"Nay, but," cries Fred, "the occasion demands a song, and Quambo here is capable of a capital bass."
And for twenty minutes at least those on board the ship could hear the music from the distant boat come quavering over the waves, and for some time could even distinguish the words—
"Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast;
The rapids are near, and the daylight is past."
At long last Señor Sarpinto sees the green of the distant island swallow them up, as the boat appears to have climbed the very sky itself into that floating fairyland.
* * * * * *
Hours and hours went by, the sun had mounted higher and higher, and for a time blazed almost perpendicularly down on the broiling deck, then gradually begun to decline.
"I think," said Captain Cawdor, "the lads must have had enough of it now. Hoist the recall, Mr. Nelson." This to the mate.
The mate did as he was told, and the flag hung from the peak like a red rope, for there was no wind to lift its heavy folds.
Two minutes after the mate shouted, "Stand by there forward, lads; there is a puff of wind coming."