o, which was, "When in trouble, eat." So the
next thing was dinner. Then Nautica and the Commodore embarked in a
shore-boat on a voyage of discovery, a search for the lost channel. By
this time the water was but a few inches deep around the houseboat.
Evidently, the explorers would not dare to go far or to be gone long
for fear the ebbing tide would prevent their getting back. But it was
not necessary to go far to find the channel. Indeed it was found
unpleasantly near. The houseboat had stranded on a safe, level shoal,
but almost on the edge of a steep declivity leading down into twelve
feet of water. We felt that if Gadabout had to go aground, she at least
might have done it a little farther away from precipitous channel
banks.

Sitting on the upper deck, we talked and read, and watched the water
slowly drawing away from our houseboat until all about us was bare
ground; to starboard a narrow strip of it between us and the channel,
and to port a wide stretch of it between us and the shore.

We thought most and talked most of the historic island on the edge of
which we had become squatters. It was a small stage for the
world-shaping drama that had been enacted upon it.

Toward evening the tide turned again and the truant waters came back,
lapping once more the sides of our boat. The Commodore had to see that
anchors were run ahead and astern, and all made snug for the night.
Then, in the enjoyment of one of the most charming features of
houseboating, an evening meal served on the upper deck, we watched the
sun dip down behind the island and the twilight shadows gather in.

Still about us was no sight or sound of human life. The shadows
deepened and darkness came. Then gradually a faint silvery light stole
over water and marsh and wooded shore; and the stillness was broken by
a burst of faint, high, tremulous tones, as though a host of unseen
hands swept tiny invisible mandolins. The silvery light came from the
rising moon; the rest was just mosquitoes.

Next day, as soon as Gadabout was afloat, she started up stream again
to find the bridge and a landing-place. There was no trouble about the
channel this time. The waterway, as if taking pity upon indifferent
navigators, suddenly contracted to a very narrow stream, deep almost
from bank to bank, so that we could not well have got out of the
channel if we had tried. In such a place, we were stout-hearted
mariners and the good houseboat stemmed the waters gallantly. A