The craft dived down and jumped up, and every wave swept completely over it; but we had taken off our shoes and stockings, and rolled up our trousers' legs, so that we suffered no inconvenience. The fresh breeze carried us over in about half an hour, and the raft was thrown high and dry on the beach, a quarter of a mile below the town.
CHAPTER XVIII.
IN WHICH ERNEST AND HIS COMPANIONS LAND AT CANNONDALE.
We landed on the beach, put on our shoes and stockings, and walked towards the village of Cannondale. It was still early in the morning,—as people who lie abed till breakfast measure time,—and I was quite confident that I should find the boats, if not the deserters from our camp, at the town. The fact that none of the party were boatmen assured me they could not have gone on to Parkville. The wind must have brought them to Cannondale, and must have prevented them from leaving it.
We followed the beach from the point where we had landed until we came to the steamboat pier, which was the usual landing-place for all boats.
On the further side of the wharf, sheltered from the wind and the sea, was our entire squadron, with the exception of the flat-boat.
"We are all right now," said Bob Hale; and we broke into a run, and hastened over to the point where the boats were secured.
"Where do you suppose the deserters are?" asked Tom Rush.
"Probably, as they didn't sleep any last night, they have gone to bed at the hotel," I replied. "It will be a good joke for them, when they wake up, to find they have had their labor for their pains."