boat up farther and turn she over."

"All right," agreed Charley, "let's do it now. It don't look as though
we'd get off the island to-day."

"Not till the wind stops, whatever," said Toby. "We may have to bide
here two or three days, _I'm_ thinkin'."

This was a new adventure. Charley rather enjoyed the prospect of it, and
Toby perhaps equally as well, and as they walked down to their landing
place they chatted merrily about what they would do, when all at once
both boys stopped and looked at each other aghast. The boat was not
there!

"She's gone!" exclaimed Toby. "The tide were risin' up and floatin' she
off!"

"What shall we do?" asked Charley in dismay. "We can't get off the
island without a boat!"

"'Tis a bad fix," confessed Toby. "They's no way o' gettin' off the
island without the boat. I'm not knowin' rightly what to do. 'Tis the
worst fix I _ever_ were in!"

The snow was now falling heavily, driven in thick, swirling clouds by
the gale. Everywhere they looked along the shore, in the vain hope that
the boat may have drifted in at some other point, and eagerly they
looked out into the drifting clouds of snow in the equally vain hope
that it might be seen floating near enough to the shore to be recovered
by some means. But nowhere was it to be seen, and the two boys,
depressed by a sense of helplessness to extricate themselves from the
small, isolated and nearly barren island that had so suddenly become
their prison, turned back to the partial protection of their improvised
shelter.

Disconsolate, they sat under the lean-to and talked over their dilemma
while the snow beyond the fire grew thicker, and the wind shrieked and
howled dismally through the trees.

"You thinks 'twere bad when the ship leaves you at Pinch-In Tickle,"
said Toby finally, "but we're gettin' in a wonderful sight worse fix!"

"Yes," agreed Charley dejectedly, "of all that's happened, this is the
worst fix of all."

"All we has to eat," continued Toby, "is half a loaf o' bread, a small
bit o' pork and enough tea for one or two days, besides the three geese
Dad were sendin' home to Mother."

"Perhaps we can get some game on the island?" suggested Charley.

"No," said Toby, "they's no game here. 'Tis too small an island."

"Is any one likely to come this way in a boat?" asked Charley hopefully.

"No," answered Toby discouragingly. "We're clost to the head o' the bay,
and nobody ever comes here except Dad. We're sure in a wond