"The book says it was somewhere near South America," replied the fisher-boy, who was astonished at the ignorance of the members of the band, and desirous of learning all their ideas on the subject.
"Is that fur from here?"
"Yes, it is a very nice little journey. You'll be tired of life on ship-board before you get there."
"But what makes you think that we won't see Boston, Bobby?" inquired the governor.
"Because you don't know how to sail to get there; and, besides, if you succeed in capturing the Storm King, you'll be wrecked before you get out of Buzzard's Bay."
"I'd like to know what's the reason! Didn't them 'cademy swells run away in the Swallow, an' didn't they go miles an' miles out of sight of land, an' never got wrecked?"
"They did," replied Bob; "but then, you must remember that there were some excellent sailors among the students."
"That's so!" said Tom. "I was first-mate of the Swallow during that cruise."
"Do you know any thing about navigation, Sam?" asked the fisher-boy.
"What's that?"