CHAPTER XIII.
THE CRUSOES OF SEVEN ISLANDS All on board of the rowboat watched the thin trail of smoke with interest.
"I believe it is going away from us," said Dora.
"No, it is coming closer," said Nellie.
"It is certainly moving to the northward," put in Sam.
A quarter of an hour went by and the smoke came only a little nearer.
"She is a big steamer," said Captain Jerry.

"But she aint comin' jest this way." "You are sure ?" cried Tom.
"Yes, lad.

It's too bad, but it can't be helped." The old sailor was right; half an hour later the smoke had shifted, and after that it faded gradually from sight.
It was a heavy blow, after their expectations had been raised so high, and tears stood in the eyes of all of the girls, while the boys looked unusually sober.
What was to do next?
All asked that question, yet it was only Captain Jerry who answered it.
"Let us pull southward," said he.
And they did so, although with hearts that were as heavy as lead in their bosoms.
Slowly the night came on.

Shortly after the sun set the moon showed itself and the sky became studded with stars, the Southern Cross standing out boldly among them.

The pale light made the bosom of the ocean glisten like silver.
"A beautiful night," said Dora.