The captain shook his head slowly and solemnly. “Kine o’ curous, too,” he ejaculated, after a thoughtful pause.
“I don’t suppose you have any more idea of where we are than you had yesterday.”
“Wal,” said Captain Corbet, “not to say much of an idea; but I’m kine o’ comin round, an mebbe I’ll get the hang of it yet.”
“Well, why not head her west? We’ll be sure to come in sight of land then.”
Again the captain shook his head.
“Wal, I don’t know,” said he, “about that. Thar’s currents, an thar’s eddies; an thar’s the Gulf Stream to be considered. Now, if we’d kep straight on at fust, when we got out o’ Canso, we’d been all right; or even after we left Louisbourg, ef we’d only kep along the coast, in sight—but thar’s the mischief of it. I let her git out o’ sight o’ land that night, an she got kine o’ slewed round, and ’s kep kine o’ cantin round every which way, until at last she’s in this here onfort’nit position. An now I’m all teetotally aderrift!”
“O, I shouldn’t think that we can be more than a hundred miles or so south-east of the Nova Scotia coast.”
“Wal, I don’t know; seems to me we may jest as well be off Bermudy as anywhars else.”
“Bermuda!” exclaimed Bart, in amazement. “You don’t mean that.”
“Wal, I don’t see why not. Here we air, after a kerrewsin around a whole fortnight every which way, driven up an down by wind an tide, an canterin along with the Gulf Stream; an whenever, we ventured to hail a passin vessel, only gettin the finger o’ scorn a pinted at us for our pains, an the laughter of frivolous an light-minded men. So what’s to hender us from bein anywhars?”