And so the day passed, and night came on.
Close inshore, the boys were attacked by an army of mosquitoes and flies, and, Joe declared, by every species of insect that ever existed. They swarmed around the lanterns, and filled the interior, and buzzed around their heads, and the more they fought and slapped the worse the marauders seemed to become.
“Awful,” said George. “Let’s go straight across the river. We never could get a look at the stars over here.” And this piece of advice was acted upon.
The boys found conditions much better on the other side. No sooner was the “Gray Gull” anchored than Fred brought out the telescope and stand. The former tutor’s handiwork was much admired. The three legs were fastened by means of hinges to an upright piece of wood supporting another that turned horizontally; to the latter was fastened a V-shaped trough capable of a vertical motion, and in this the telescope was secured by means of a strap.
The boys spent an enjoyable evening, studying the stars, even Joe becoming quite enthusiastic as he took his turn at the glass.
Aleck and George were very tired; so they decided to retire rather early. All were good sleepers, and before long quietness reigned in the house-boat.
Bob Somers dreamed that Confuse-us, grown into a great big dog, had seized the fly-wheel in his teeth and set the engine in motion. And the pulsation had a strangely double sound; and he vaguely puzzled over it in his sleep, and seemed to hear the water gurgling against the side of the boat.
Finally Bob awoke with a start, sat bolt upright, and uttered an exclamation of wonder.
The dream was only half a dream. The “Gray Gull’s” engine was silent; but the strange sound of double pulsations reached his ears plainly; and the boat actually seemed to be in motion.
“Gracious goodness! What does this mean?” he murmured.