"Boat ahoy," boomed out his voice.
"Indian fishermen," cried Yaquis. "Stop, take me ashore."
With a growl, the Captain sent his ship ahead, paying no attention to the "Indian fisherman" in distress. There was a gleam of white teeth as the Indian smiled at the hearty congratulations of the boys and their glee at his stratagem. Then the Spaniard and Yaquis took the oars while Jim steered and Jo slept.
CHAPTER XXXI
CONCLUSION
When morning came, they were but a few miles from the Northern end of the longer Island and the fog was over the whole sky. The sea was glassy with a sullen glaze. Nowhere was there sign of any steamer or ship. The Sea Eagle had made good her escape.
"I wish we had a stiff breeze to help us along," said the Spaniard, who loved not manual labor, as did the boys.
"It will come, the strong breeze, soon," said the Indian.