Kenneth stood up in his place at the helm and looked at them. “The ‘Gazelle’ has proved herself seaworthy,” he said, rather proudly. “I bet she can beat that bunch of boats ahead.”
There were no takers, but all hands watched the gap of water between the yacht and hindmost craft eagerly. The wind was astern, and with her sheets well out, the yawl flew after the fishing fleet. For an hour there was little change in the relative positions of the pursuer and the pursued; then the boys noticed that the distance was lessening. On they flew up the broad, ribbon-like channel, until they were almost able to read the names on the sterns of the working boats.
“We’re not so slow,” Kenneth cried, as the “Gazelle” drew alongside, his eyes shining with pleasure.
“Adios,” shouted a swarthy man standing in the stern sheets of a lugger. “Fine boat, yours; you want swap?” A set of white teeth shone as he smiled sunnily.
The three boys took off their caps and waved a salute. “No, thank you; we’re bound up the Atlantic coast, need deep draft boat,” Kenneth answered.
“Atlantic, that boat? no!” the other said, half to himself; and the last the boys saw of him he was still shaking his head emphatically.
“Doesn’t know the boat, does he, boys?” Kenneth laughed.
The fishing fleet was soon left behind, and the “Gazelle” was once more sailing alone. The sun began to sink lower and lower, gaining depth of color as it dropped, until the whole narrow path of water blazed and sparkled with opalescent tints. The boys were almost intoxicated with the delight of it, and did not notice how abruptly the sound was narrowing down. The sunset’s glory was short-lived, and the crew found themselves in an intricate, crooked channel, utterly strange to them. They had almost decided to anchor, when they noticed a large schooner, a mere shadow, gliding ahead of them.
“We’ll follow her wake,” declared Kenneth. “She knows the channel if we don’t.”
Like hounds on the trail they followed the schooner through the deepening dusk, until the flapping of canvas told them that she had come into the wind, and the clank of chain cable through the hawse pipes betrayed the fact that she had anchored.