After examining the fish, the jaws were removed, and, carrying them, they walked up the sand-spit to the shore. Then dressing themselves, they sat down and rested for a time. Then Bruce and Bart climbed to the top of the bank, and went in different directions to explore. On coming back, each had the same story. They had met with nothing but fir trees and alder bushes, and had not seen a sign of any house whatever. On this they all decided to go to the top of the bank, and wait patiently until the tide was high, then fasten the schooner as well as they could, leave a message on board to indicate their course, and set off along the coast in search of inhabitants. With this decision, they climbed the bank to a conspicuous position, and there waited.
The tide rose higher and higher. Each increase in the depth of the water allowed the schooner to approach nearer to the shore, though there was a sidelong drift, which, from time to time, changed her position, sometimes presenting her bows to the beach, at other times her side.
The water was rising higher and still higher. The mud flats extended close up to the beach below, but the beach itself was formed of sand and gravel, and rose, by a steep slope, from the mud flat to the base of the bank. By two o’clock the water had reached the edge of the gravel.
“It will take an hour more,” said Bruce, “before it gets to high-water mark. One hour more, boys, and then off we must go to explore the country.”
XV.
Scratching for Clams.—How not to eat them.—Fearful Consequences of Folly.—A formidable Medicine Chest.—Prevention better than Cure.
MEANWHILE the people at Pratt’s Cove waited for the return of the captain and his company. The boys had excited the deepest sympathy of Mrs. Pratt by their loss of appetite, and she was anxious about the lost vessel. They had not eaten anything for tea; and after the meal was over, they walked down to their old place. It was about half past six o’clock, and a large part of the cove was already uncovered by the receding tide.
“I wonder if there’s any duck left,” said Jiggins, with a sigh.
“Or roaster,” said Muckle, with another sigh.