The others did the same.
Scarcely had they done so, when a cry of dismay burst from them.
The shore was at least five hundred yards away. Phil and Tom were scrambling down the bank, gesticulating wildly.
“What’s all this?” cried Arthur.
For a moment no one answered; but at last Bart said, in a voice tremulous with agitation,—
“We’ve mistaken the high-water mark altogether, boys. It must have been high tide when we came on board. We’ve been drifting off ever since.”
“Couldn’t we wade ashore?” said Arthur.
Bruce seized a boat-hook, and plunged it over the vessel’s side into the water.
“Couldn’t do it,” he said, slowly. “There are eight or nine feet of water.”
“Can’t we swim?”