Before them nothing could be seen but the impenetrable fog. The water beneath was not visible, but the surf sent up its boom, and they knew that they were somewhere on the shore of the Bay of Fundy.
But where?
“This is certainly a most extraordinary thing!” cried the doctor, at last.
The others said nothing, but by their silence assented to the truth of this undeniable statement.
“One thing is evident.” said the doctor again, “and that is, that this is not the old French fort. In fact, I begin to doubt whether there is any old French fort here at all. They surely would never have been mad enough to build any kind of a fort in these abominable woods.”
To this, again, the boys made no reply. The assertion seemed so self-evident that it appeared like the utterance of actual fact.
“It is a conviction,” resumed the doctor, “that has been growing stronger and stronger ever since we left the ‘Barrens,’ and I now accept it without reserve. But at the same time, boys, I confess that I haven’t the smallest idea where we are.”
“We must be somewhere on the coast between Scott’s Bay and Hall’s Harbor,” said Bruce.
“Perfectly true,” said the doctor; “but where on that coast? As some ten or fifteen miles lie between those two places, we have an almost unlimited latitude for conjecture.”
Nothing was said for some time. All looked along the coast line in both directions, to see if anything were visible. Nothing, however, could be seen. The dense fog concealed everything from view.