The fish were broiled over the fire upon
sticks. The boat was hauled in under some overhanging bushes, and,
stretching themselves in the bottom, Harold and Jake were soon fast
asleep.
The sun was setting when they woke.
"What you going to do, sar?" Jake asked. "Are you tinking ob
trabeling by land or ob sailing to New York?"
"Neither, Jake," Harold answered. "I am thinking of sailing down the
coast inside the line of keys to Charleston. The water there is
comparatively smooth, and as we shall be taken for fishermen it is
not likely that we shall be overhauled. We can land occasionally and
pick a few ears of corn to eat with our fish, and as there is
generally a breeze night and morning, however still and hot the day,
we shall be able to do it comfortably. I see that there is an iron
plate here which has been used for making a fire and cooking on
board, so we will lay in a stock of dry wood before we start."
The journey was made without any adventure. While the breeze lasted
they sailed; when it fell calm they fished, and when they had
obtained a sufficient supply for their wants they lay down and slept
under the shade of their sail stretched as an awning. Frequently they
passed within hail of other fishing-boats, generally manned by
negroes. But beyond a few words as to their success, no questions
were asked. They generally kept near the shore, and when they saw any
larger craft they either hauled the boat up or ran into one of the
creeks in which the coast abounds.
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