"After you 've been on the water a good while you come to feel the land.

And if your nose is any account, you can usually smell it." An hour or so later, Joe surmised from the Frenchman's actions that they were approaching their destination.

He seemed on the alert, and was constantly peering into the darkness ahead as though he expected to see something at any moment.

Joe looked very hard, but saw only the darkness.
"Try ze stick, Kid," French Pete ordered.

"I t'ink it is about ze time." 'Frisco Kid unlashed a long and slender pole from the top of the cabin, and, standing on the narrow deck amidships, plunged one end of it into the water and drove it straight down.
"About fifteen feet," he said.
"What ze bottom ?" "Mud," was the answer.
"Wait one while, den we try some more." Five minutes afterward the pole was plunged overside again.
"Two fathoms," Joe answered--"shells." French Pete rubbed his hands with satisfaction.