"Now, Peter," Tom said, "let us both hallo together; the wind is very
light, and it is just possible they may hear us."

Again and again the boys shouted, but the ship sailed steadily on.
Peter dashed the tears aside, and Tom said, with a quiver in his
voice, "Never mind, Peter; better luck next time, old boy. God has
been so good to us, that I feel quite confident we shall be saved."

"So do I, Tom," Peter said. "It was only a disappointment for a
minute. We may as well put the oar down, for my arm and back ache
holding it."

"Mind how you do it, Peter. If we let the end go through the canvas,
we shall lose our watches and bugles, and then we shall not be able to
fish."

"Oh, Tom, the bugles!"

"What, Peter?" Tom said, astonished.

"We can make them hear, Tom, don't you see?"

"Hurrah, Peter! so we can. What a fool I was to forget it!"

In a moment the bugles rang out the assembly across the water. Again
and again the sharp, clear sound rose on the quiet evening air.

"Look, Peter, there are men going up the rigging to look round. Sound
again!"