“It was bad enough this morning,” said Arthur, at last, “but it was a joke to this. What can we do for something to eat?”
“There’s not a morsel on board.”
“The last mouthful of bread we ate before we waded ashore.”
“If we only had a fish-hook we might hope to catch something.”
“Fish-hook! Why, man, we haven’t any kind of bait.”
“Well, all we’ve got to do is to hope for some one to pick us up.”
“Is that all? No,” said Bart. “I, for one, am not going to sit down and float away, goodness knows where. I move that we up sail and go somewhere.”
“Up sail!”
“Of course. Why not?”
“But can we—can you—?”