old Blazing Star Ferry was seldom used. A boat lay there. It was
staunch. The tide with them, they _might_ get it across. Had they been
older, wiser, they would never have made the attempt.

A fresh water stream ran down to the sea. They passed it on their way
thither. In it Sleet drank deep, and soothed for a moment the bites
that tormented her; the children kneeled on the grassy bank, and drank
from their palms; the calf frolicked in it, till driven out. An hour
went by. They reached the ferry. It was deserted. Somebody had used
the boat that day. It was at the shore. Grass was yet in it.

"Come along, Snow," said Valentine, urging with the rope. "Go along,
Snow," said Anna, helping it on with a stout twig she had picked up.
The calf pranced and ran, and before it knew its whereabouts was in
the broad-bottomed boat. Sleet stood on the shore, and saw her baby
tied fast. One poor cry the calf uttered. It went home to the motherly
heart of the dumb creature. She went down the sand, over the side, and
began, in her own way, to comfort Snow.

"Now we are all right!" cried Valentine, delighted with the success of
his ruse; for he had slyly, lest Anna should see the deed, thrust a
pin in Snow to call forth the cry and win the cow over to his side.

"Take an oar quick!" commanded the young captain.

His mate obeyed. They pushed the boat out, unfastened it from the
pier. Before anybody concerned had time to realize the situation the
boat was adrift, and they were whirling in the tide.

"Now, sis," said Valentine, a big lump in his throat, "we're in for
it. It is sink or swim. It's not much use to row. You steer and I'll
paddle."

Sleet looked wildly around. She tossed her head, sniffed the salt,
oystery air, and seemed about to plunge overboard.

Anna screamed. Valentine threw down his paddle and dashed himself on
the boat's outermost edge just in time to save it from overturning.
Mistress Sleet, disgusted with Fourth of July, had made up her mind to
lie down and take a nap. The boat righted and they were safe. Staten
Island Sound at this point was narrow, scarcely more than a quarter of
a mile in width, and the tide was fast bearing them out.

"Such uncommon good sense in Sleet," exclaimed the boy. "_That_ cow is
worth saving."

At that moment a dozen Red Coats were at the ferry they had just left.
The imperious gentlemen were in a fine frenzy at finding the boat
gone.

They shouted to the children to return.