He's more than a scout, he's an institution.
"Do you know, Charlie, I think we're moving?
We were almost opposite that old railroad car a few minutes ago.

Either Bridgeboro is going down or we're going up.

Do you feel the climate changing?
You don't suppose this island is going to go up the river again and join old Trimmer's orchard, do you ?" "Maybe it's homesick," said a boy they called Brownie.
"I hope the discoverer will discover it," said Billy.
"We'd better scatter something in our trail," said Townsend soberly, "so that he can follow.

I think that's the regulation thing for scouts to do, isn't it ?" He had been whittling a stick and now with a sober look he began throwing the chips into the water as if to indicate the path of the departing island.

"That's what you call blazing a trail," he said; "if he's a scout he can follow." The little island was now moving slowly upstream by the incoming tide.
It caught on the flats, performed a slow pirouette like some drowsy toe-dancer or exhausted merry-go-round, then extricated itself and floated majestically in the channel till the little apple tree became involved with the foliage along shore.
"Do you know this seems like a very funny kind of an island to me ?" Townsend Ripley drawled.