That night seemed almost a year long, they said afterward. Sometimes they fell from very weariness, only to get up again and struggle on. Frank placed his arm about his brother and half carried him at times.
They covered many miles. As yet they had seen no indication of their "camp," as they called the place on the beach opposite where they had left the Gull riding at anchor, and where they had placed their small boat and a supply of provisions.
"We must have come the wrong way, and have almost made a circuit of the island," said Andy wearily.
"Never mind, it can't be much farther off now," and Frank tried to speak cheerfully. But it was hard work.
The rain had ceased for some time now, and looking up the boys saw the faint gleam of stars.
"It's going to clear," observed Andy.
"Yes," assented Frank.
Another mile was covered. A dim glow seemed to suffuse the sky. It grew brighter.
"It's morning!" cried the older lad.
"Yes, and look there!" suddenly exclaimed Andy. He pointed ahead.
"There's where our camp was," he added.