n with his companion on the beach, and with sharpened
sticks the young people picked the roasted oysters from their
shells, while Dick told the girl of that other picnic on the coast
near-by after the waterspout had wrecked the _Etta_. They talked
after the oysters were eaten and the fire had gone out, until Ned's
voice came to them:

"Do you kids expect to settle here and grow up with the country?
Don't you know it's 'most night, the tide's been right for the river
for an hour, and everybody is waiting for you?"

When they reached the _Irene_, Mr. Barstow proposed putting off
their start until morning to give Molly and him a chance to see the
river as they sailed up it. Mr. Barstow replied to a quizzical look
from his son:

"Of course, this doesn't come out of your time, Ned. You are to have
your full three days."

"Maybe you'd like to see some fire-hunting," said the captain.
"There are 'gators in these rivers, and there's time before the moon
rises to find one or two. If you don't want one killed I'll fire a
blank cartridge at him, unless you'd like to shine the eyes of one
yourself."

"I don't think I'll try any fire-hunting, but I should like to see
it done," said Mr. Barstow.

Dick was proud of his sculling, and at his request it was arranged
that he should scull the skiff for the captain, while Ned was to
pole the little motor-boat, in which his father and sister would go
with him. Before they had gone far Dick found that he had
overestimated his strength, and that handling the heavy sculling oar
was too much for him. Mr. Barstow offered to pole the motor-boat,
and Ned took Dick's place at the oar in the skiff, where Dick
remained as a passenger. They entered Broad River and Ned sculled
slowly along the bank, while the beam of light from the lantern,
which was bound to the captain's forehead, played along the surface
of the water under the mangroves that overhung the banks and
sometimes swept the banks above the water. In the shallow places
mullet leaped wildly as the rays of the bull's-eye lantern fell on
them, while porpoises sniffed and tarpon splashed in their light.
Sculling was hard work for Ned, who had none of the easy and
graceful swing with which Dick threw his weight on a sculling oar, a
skill which he had acquired during his life on the sponger. Several
times the oar jumped out of the scull hole in the skiff, and once
Ned nearly went overboard. But a little extra noise didn't much
disturb wi