Then they were on
their way.
Aside from a slight excitement caused when Walter hooked a big fish,
and was nearly taken overboard by it--being in fact pulled back just
in time by Bess, little of moment occurred on the trip to Lonely
Island.
Toward evening, after a day's hard pushing of the Tartar, Slim Jim,
who had taken his position in the bows, called out:
"There she lies, boss!"
"Lonely Island?" asked Jack.
"That's her."
"Since you've been there, where had we better anchor?" asked Joe,
with a due regard for the craft he was piloting.
"Around on the other side is a good bay, with deep enough water and
good holding ground," said the negro. "If it comes on to blow, an'
it looks as if it might, we'll ride easy there."
Accordingly, they passed by the place where the negro fishermen had
been frightened away with their empty water casks, and made for the
other side of the island. Recalling the story of the queer and
probably crazed man, Jack and the others, including Slim Jim, gazed
eagerly for a sight of him. But the island seemed deserted and
lonely.
"What if he shouldn't be there?" whispered Belle to Cora.
"Don't suggest it, my dear. It's the best chance we've yet had of
finding them, and it mustn't fail--it simply mustn't!"
It was very quiet in the little bay where they dropped anchor, though
a flock of birds, with harsh cries, flew from the palm trees at the
sound of the "mud hook" splashing into the water.
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