The others could not help but agree with the young leader of the Eagles, although they could hardly foresee the still more thrilling experiences that lay just ahead of them.
"I would suggest," began the ensign presently, "I would suggest that we search for some trace of food."
"Humph; mouldy ship's biscuits!" grunted Tubby half under his breath. "Even if there are any on board, they must be rotten by this time. This is a fine fix! Maybe we won't get any supper at all," and the fat boy looked positively tragic over the dire prospect.
But although Tubby had spoken in a low tone, more to himself than to anybody else, the ensign's sharp ears had overheard him.
"Young man," he said somewhat sternly, "if you want to be a good Boy Scout you must learn to take hardships as they come."
"Even missing meals?" asked Tubby, in an injured voice.
"Yes, even that," repeated the young officer with a smile, which in the Eagles' case was a perfect roar of laughter at Tubby's keen distress. The fat boy strode off sullenly by himself, gazing at the fog as he went in a very knowing way.
They searched the ship over for something that it would be possible to eat; but not so much as a crumb of edible supplies did they find. In one hold was discovered a number of barrels of "salt horse and pork," but they were all dried up and unfit for human food. The same thing applied to the biscuit kegs, and all the other supplies. It was out of the question to think of touching any of them.
"Whatever are we going to do?" gasped Rob, a note of real alarm in his voice for the first time.
The ensign's calmness served to steady all the boys a bit.