And soon they were all ashore, using stiffened muscles gingerly at first, and then with increasing confidence. The sun was blazing hot overhead.
"And now to find our mislaid steamer!" cried Russ, gaily.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE PALM HUT
Breakfast, on the shore of the sluggish and swamp-like stream where the big rowboat was moored, was a meagre meal, indeed. For after a moment of consideration it was decided not to use up all the food that remained.
"We may need some for luncheon," explained Russ, who seemed to have taken command of the little party. "We may not be able to reach the steamer by noon."
"Do you think we'll ever be able to reach it, old man?" asked Paul, in a low voice.
"Oh, sure. We've just got to find it!" whispered the young operator, with a quick glance at the girls.
"That's so," agreed Paul. But he knew, as well as did Russ, that it would be no easy matter.