To this sentiment Fred Winter heartily agreed.
The house-boat was soon anchored in the shade of the island, its pleasant wooded heights rising above them. One by one they scrambled ashore and began to explore it with interest.
In portions it was rocky and barren, while in others masses of underbrush grew in a wild tangle which effectually prevented their passage.
But the boys quickly found a way to the top, although in some places they risked a fall over the steep, rocky ledges.
Bob Somers climbed a tree, and, perched comfortably among the branches, had a good view of the landscape. When he came down, the eight, for Redfern had stayed by the shore, took seats on a grassy knoll on the other side of the island, and idly watched one of the powerful Albany steamers passing on its way to that city.
After supper a fire was kindled, and, as the boys piled on brush and the flames mounted higher and higher, they cast a bright glow on the sturdy form of the “Gray Gull” and far out over the dark water. Confuse-us, too, joined the circle, and seemed quite mystified and uneasy.
A steady breeze made the tree tops rustle with a soft, musical whispering. The woods outside the flaring glare looked black and forbidding. The New York boys were surprised to find how far the firelight carried. An island some distance off sprang into view against the blackness, its rocks and trees weirdly illuminated.
That night the boys rested on beds made of fragrant cedar boughs, and although the insects were quite annoying, managed to sleep most of the time.
Bright and early next morning the voyage was resumed.
Had they so desired, Albany might have been reached late that night. But Jack and his chums decided to halt and wait for daylight.