We left Merry-go-round Island revolving gracefully upon a tiny reef
whence it was borne by the rising tide. We are now to take up our
narrative at the point where the island ceased spinning and was carried
slowly on upstream by the incoming waters. When the tide reached
flood, the island hesitated upon the still water, then like some
obedient and clumsy ox, moved slowly downstream again upon the ebb.
And meanwhile, the day departed and darkness fell upon the winding
river and the hardy adventurers lit their lanterns.

"I was hoping we might stick in some pleasant spot," said Townsend,
"where the fishing is good. I forgot how a floating island might act
in a tidal river. I wish this island would make up its mind to
something. Just when I want to explore the western coast I find it's
the eastern coast. I don't know where I'm at----"

"You don't have to know where you're at to have fun," said Pee-wee.

"I know it," said Townsend; "but when I hike fifteen or twenty feet to
the north coast of the island and then the island swings around and I
find I'm on the south coast, I've got to hike all the way across the
island again to get to the north coast and when I get there I find I'm
on the west coast. Then I cross to the east coast and in about a
minute I find I'm on the southern shore.

"No matter where I go I'm somewhere else; it's discouraging. I've
walked forty-eleven miles since supper trying to keep on the western
coast and here I am on the north--wait a minute--the eastern coast. If
this Island won't stay still I can't explore it."