IN the spring time of the year, when the rain was past, Fritz and Jack
set off on a trip in their boat to Shark Isle. The day was fine, the
sky clear, and there was no wind, yet the waves rose and fell as in a
storm.

"See!" cried Jack, "here comes a shoal of whales. They will eat us up."

"There is no fear of that," said Fritz; "whales will do us no harm, if
we do not touch them." This proved to be the case. Though any one of
them might have broken up the boat with a stroke of its tail, they did
not touch it, but swam by in a line, two by two, like a file of troops.

On Shark Isle, near the shore, we had thrown up a mound, and built a
fort, on which were set two of the ship's guns. These the boys made a
rule to fire off, with a view to let us know that they were safe, and
to try if the guns were still fit for use. This time they found their
charge quite dry, and the guns went off with a loud bang.

They had just put a plug in the hole of one of the guns, to keep out
the wet, when they heard a sound roll through the air.

"Did you bear that?" said Jack. "I am sure that noise must have come
from some ship at sea. Let us fire once more."

But Fritz thought they ought to go home at once and tell me what they
had heard. They both ran to the boat with all speed, and put out their
strength to reach home ere the sun went down.

The day was fine, and as the rain had kept us in doors for two months,