“I’m with you if the captain makes no objection,” the mate said, as he sprang to his feet, and Gil’s father, who had overheard the conversation, replied:
“Do as you please, but don’t stay away too long, for at this season of the year it is impossible to say when a breeze may spring up which would make our anchorage a dangerous one.”
“It isn’t likely we shall want to land,” Gil said as he went to the cabin for his and Nelse’s revolvers, and five minutes later the little party were rowing toward the reflection of the fire, Gil and Nelse at the oars, and Mr. Jenkins steering.
“Be careful,” the mate had said, in a low tone, as they left the side of the yacht. “On such a night as this sound travels a long distance over the water, and you don’t want to splash about much.”
This admonition was unnecessary. The thought that they might be on the brink of some wonderful discovery rendered both the boys cautious, and he who could hear anything as the little craft glided toward the shore would need to have a very acute sense of hearing.
Perhaps half-an-hour elapsed before they were near that portion of the shore from which the light had been reflected, and then it was learned that the blaze was some distance inland.
It was possible to distinguish voices in an unmusical song or chant, but nothing could be seen, and Mr. Jenkins whispered:
“We might just as well have stayed on the schooner, so far as learning anything is concerned. Shall we go back, or do you boys want to creep up on those fellows?”
It was evident that the mate wished to land, but preferred to have it appear as if he was doing so simply to oblige his companions.
“I would like to see what is going on in there,” Nelse said, and Gil added, after a moment’s thought: