te
fresh."

Captain Chubb did not answer for the moment, for he had to shout another
order to the steersman and make two or three signals with his hand to
those on board the brig, which was following in the schooner's track,
keeping as close as it could to be safe.

At the end of five minutes, though, he had returned to his old position,
and grunted out with a look as if he wanted to be questioned more--

"Well, I suppose such youngsters as you like to know."

Then all at once he shouted out a fresh order, which was followed by the
rattling out of the cable through the hawse-hole as the anchor splashed
and went down to a pretty good depth before the rope was stopped, one
order having acted for both vessels, and just before dark they swung
round head to stream, with the water lapping loudly against their bows.

"That's enough for one day," grunted the captain. "Safe and snug a
harbour as any one could wish to be in, and there's the trees, you see,
on both sides, good, sound, solid forest trees such as would cut up into
fine timber, and all the mangroves left far enough behind."

In a remarkably short time, as the two lads stood watching the shores,
the forest on either side grew intensely black, and though the steward
announced that the evening meal was ready, no one seemed disposed to go
below, for, succeeding to the solemn evening silence, they seemed to be
surrounded by strange sounds from the depths of the forest as well as
from the river, whose current began to grow sluggish, suggesting that
before long the tide would be at its height, and ready to turn with the
rushing of the water outward to the sea.

"Why, it's awful," said Morny, in a subdued tone, as he stood with Rodd
gazing at the nearest shore.

"Yes, not very nice," replied Rodd. "You and your father had better
stop on board here to-night."

"Oh no. Our boat is hanging astern. We shall go back."

Rodd thought that he should not like to attempt to row from vessel to
vessel in the darkness of such a night, for something seemed to suggest
to him the possibility of being swept out to sea; but he did not say so,
for fear of making his companion nervous, and they stood listening and
whispering together, trying to give names to some of the uncouth noises
which floated to their ears.

Many were sharp quick splashes as if some great fish had sprung out of
the water in pursuit of prey, or in a desperate effort to escape a
pursuer. Then every now and