"Now, ready--pull!"

The Rovers worked better now, and the Zephyr moved with tolerable
rapidity towards the shore; but it was very dark under the shadow of the
trees, and Charles could not readily find the place where the materials
for the tent had been concealed. Each of the crew thought he knew more
about the business than the coxswain; and in the scrape the Zephyr was
run aground, heeled over on one side, and filled half full of water.

It required some time to bail her out; but it was accomplished at last,
the stakes and poles put on board, and they rowed off to the island
again. Tim had arrived before him, and had landed the stores.

"Where are the matches, Tim?" asked Charles.

"What are you going to do?"

"Make a fire."

"What for?"

"Some of us are wet, and we can't see to put up the tents without it."

"But a fire will betray us."

"What matter? We are safe from pursuit."

"Go it, then," replied Tim, as he handed Charles a bunch of matches.

The fire was kindled, and it cast a cheerful light over the scene of