And Nick also crouched down in the body of the boat, gripping some substantial part of the framework, with the grim air of one who had determined not to be pitched out into the water again, come what would.
Both heaved plain sighs of relief when the crossings were made without the least trouble. Cobb's Island now lay close by, and beyond were several more openings, where the sea connected with the shore waters. But these were small compared with those already navigated, and with a fair amount of caution they had no need to borrow trouble longer.
"There's what we're aiming to reach by evening, fellows!" remarked Jack, about the middle of the afternoon.
Following the direction in which his extended hand pointed, the others could see a lighthouse not a great way ahead, though it might take some time to reach it by way of winding connecting creeks.
"The great Cape Charles Light, ain't it, Jack?" demanded Herb.
"Just what it is," replied the commodore.
"Then, tomorrow we'll have to cross the mouth of the Chesapeake and arrive at Norfolk or Portsmouth; is that the programme?" asked George.
"If everything looks good to us, yes," replied Jack, seriously. "We want to take as few chances, you know, as we must. And that twenty miles is a big trip for our little craft. All depends on the wind and the sky. But there are always lots of boats around here; and if we got in a peck of trouble they'd help us out."
"That's a comfort," remarked Nick. "It was bad enough dropping overboard in that inlet, and I don't hanker to try it in the ocean itself. Excuse me, boys; I pass. I've shown you how to do the trick; some one else take the next try."
"We'll hope there isn't going to be any next, like the little boy's apple core," Jack laughed.