Daylight came about five o'clock, and Ned made use of the earliest light for looking about him and determining his position. So buried was the boat in the tall marsh grass, that he had to stand upon the highest part of the bow in order to see at all. At first he could make out very little, but as it grew lighter—for, the rain having ceased, the light gained rapidly toward six o'clock—he was able to make out the bearings pretty well.
"I say, fellows," he said, turning to his companions, "we made a centre shot. If we had tried, in the broadest light of the clearest day, we couldn't have put theAphroditemore exactly in the middle of this marsh bank."
Further inspection showed that this judgment was accurate. The boat lay precisely in the middle of the little island, which stretched away two or three hundred yards on each side.
The tide had risen enough by half-past six for the water to lick the sides of the boat, but it would be a full hour or more before theAphroditewould float up out of the mud, and even then it would be necessary to wait awhile longer for deeper water, before trying to push her great bulk through the rank marsh grass.
"Why not hurry matters by getting out and pushing the empty boat?" asked impatient Charley, who had already declared himself to be in a state of actual starvation.
"Just take one of the oars, Charley," said Ned, "and feel of the bottom we should have to walk on."
Charley took the oar, pushed it through the roots of the grass, and then, with scarcely an effort, plunged its whole length straight downward through the soft mud.
"Ya—as, I see," he drawled, as he drew the oar out again; "it isn't precisely the sort of lawn that one would choose for walking about on in slippers."
Just then oars were heard, and looking in the direction from which the sound came, Ned suddenly cried out:
"Hi! Maum Sally! Hi there! Here we are, out here in the marsh!" Then turning to his companions, he said:
"It's Maum Sally in the little boat. I wonder where she's going this early on Sunday morning."
Maum Sally did not leave him long in doubt on this head. Rowing her boat as far into the grass and as near to them as she could, she came to a stop at about a hundred and fifty yards from theAphrodite. Then standing up in her boat, placing her bare arms akimbo, and tossing her red-turbaned head back, she began:
"Now, look heah, young Ned! What you mean by dis heah sort o' doins? Didn't you promise me faithful to be back agin in a month? An' ain't de month done gone, an' heah you is a idlin' about on a ma'sh, an' it Sunday mawnin' too? Jes' you come straight 'long home now."
After she had spent her first breath in a tirade which was half scolding and half coddling,—for that was always her way with Ned, whom she had spoiled all his life, from the cradle upward,—she paused long enough for Ned to explain that he and his companions could not go to her until the tide should rise at least a foot more.
"Now listen, boys," he said; "she'll keep it up till the rising tide brings her to us, and we're in for an hour of it."
"Why not persuade her to go back and get breakfast ready by the time we get there?" asked Jack.
"Go back? Not she. My month was up yesterday, and as I didn't put in an appearance, she set out to find me and bring me home this morning, and you just bet she won't go home without me. She'll row this way as fast as the rising water will let her, and she'll keep on scolding and coddling me all the time. Then she'll jump in here and hug me as if I were her long-lost baby boy. Hear her!"
Maum Sally fulfilled Ned's prediction to the letter. As she drew nearer, and made out the forlorn condition of the young Crusoes, discovering, little by little, how ragged they were, she scolded more and more savagely, while Ned laughed and heartily enjoyed it all, taking pains to direct her attention to the various losses he had sustained, and hinting now and then at the difficulties he had encountered and the dangers he had passed. Each word of his gave Maum Sally a new theme for her scolding, and as the little boat pushed itself up to the big one she leaped from the one into the other, changing her tone, manner, and expression in the very middle of a sentence, somewhat thus:
"I tell you, young Ned, ef I gits my han's on you, you ugly, provokin', no 'count young scape—darlin', blessed boy, aint ole Sally happy to git her arms roun' you agin, and hug you jis like you was a baby agin; an' now I's got you safe in these arms agin, I tell you I's happy."
The sudden change in the sentence occurred just as Maum Sally stepped from one boat into the other, and fell upon Ned with that savage fury of affection which only a dear old black nurse can feel.
To row out of the marsh when the water grew a little deeper, and then to row home to a late but toothsome breakfast, was easy enough now. Then a long day of complete rest followed, and the whole story of the wreck of theRed Birdwas a memory merely.