Then they had to drop into single file as the channel narrowed again, with the pilot boat Tramp leading the way as usual.
"This is Smith Island, and the one on which the lighthouse is built. We ought to bring up there in short order now, when the mouth of the bay will be spread in front of us like a picture," Jack called, over his shoulder.
"All very nice," grumbled Nick; "but as for me, I'd much rather it was spread out behind us," and George doubtless echoed the thought, though too proud to show any nervousness over the prospective trip on the open sea.
At least Jack's prediction came true, for they did succeed in making the point of the island where the Cape Charles Light stood, a beacon to all vessels trying to enter the great Chesapeake Bay.
Far across the heaving waters lay Norfolk, Portsmouth, and Fortress Monroe, the Government station. Near here one of the most important naval engagements of the Civil War was fought, when Ericsson's "cheese on a raft," the Monitor, faced the terrible Confederate ironclad ram, Merrimac, and forced her to retire, after it seemed as though the entire wooden United States navy was to be at the mercy of the enemy.
No doubt many of these events thronged the minds of the four high school lads as they stood there on the sandy beach looking across that stretch of sea toward the object of their expectation. And George, with Nick a good second, must have devoutly wished the labor of the next twenty-four hours were completed, with the little fleet at safe anchorage off the town of Norfolk, which they had determined to visit, so as to get their mail, and secure a few fresh supplies, since the hungry Nick was making a terrible hole in what they carried.
And on this October night they camped ashore under the gleaming Cape Charles Light.