Again an oven was to be made, and they hoped to have a feast for the next day.
"What's to hinder our sleeping on shore tonight, fellows?" asked Josh, as they found a pretty good place for a camp.
"Oh! please do!" cried poor, tortured Nick; "I'd love to rest comfy for just once again."
"Huh!" grunted stubborn George, "that suits me first rate, because I insist on keeping to my quarters aboard, and there'll be plenty of room. Besides, I won't wake up every little while when you roll over, thinking the boat is going to turn turtle."
Upon being put to a vote, five of them were in favor of trying it. So about the time they began to feel sleepy, blankets were brought from the boats, and each fellow started to make himself as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.
Jack had selected his sleeping place with an eye to its convenience; also the fact that by raising himself on his elbow he could have a survey of the entire camp, counting the three boats. And it might have been noticed that both he and Herb made sure to take their guns to bed with them, a fact Nick saw with a bit of uneasiness.
The Tramp and the Comfort were both fastened up, for it was possible to lock their cabins in an emergency. George was under his canvas shelter, trying to make himself believe he fully enjoyed the sensation of loneliness.
Finally a silence came over the camp on the shore. The fire died down gradually, for no one bothered to keep it going, the night being anything but cold.
Jack was always a light sleeper. He had trained himself to awaken if there was anything unusual going on. And when he suddenly opened his eyes, seeing the stars over his head, he knew instinctively that it was not far from daybreak. He also had a sort of intuition that there was some one or something moving close by.
And so, Jack, reaching out and securing his gun, began to softly raise his head, hoping that the starlight would be strong enough to let him see what was going on. What discovery he made gave him something of a little shock.