“You’re right,” agreed Neale. “And then we can turn in and wait for morning. I only hope—”
“What?” asked Agnes, as he hesitated.
“I hope it clears,” Neale finished. But what he had been going to say was that he hoped no holes would be stove in the hull of the boat.
It was no easy task for him and Hank to get two lines ashore—from bow and stern—and fasten them to trees. But eventually it was accomplished. Then, as if it had worked its worst, the storm appeared to decrease in violence and it was possible to get a little rest.
However, before turning in again, Mrs. MacCall insisted on making a pot of tea for the older folk, while the small children were given some bread and milk. As the berths where Dot and Tess had been sleeping were uncomfortably tilted by the listing of the boat, the little girls were given the places occupied by Ruth and Agnes, who managed to make shift to get some rest in the slanting beds.
“Whew!” exclaimed Neale as he went to his room when all that was possible had been done, “this has been some night!”
As might have been expected, the morning broke clear, warm and sunny, and the only trace of the storm was in the rather high waves of the lake. Before Mrs. MacCall served breakfast Neale, Mr. Howbridge, Agnes and Ruth went ashore, an easy matter, since the Bluebird was stranded, and made an examination. They found their craft so firmly fixed on the rocky shore that help would be needed before she could be floated.
“But how are we going to get help?” asked Ruth.
“Oh, there may be fishermen living on this island,” said Mr. Howbridge. “We’ll make a tour and see.”
“And if there is none,” added Neale, “Hank or I can row over to the next nearest island or to the mainland and bring back some men.”