It was an eerie experience to the two boats' crews, rowing in a dense mist that seemed to have a most bewildering effect upon all save Atherton, who, implicitly trusting to the small magnetic needle, knew that it was a matter of impossibility to miss hitting Seal Island somewhere. By having to frequently pull the starboard yoke-line Atherton realised that without the aid of the compass his boat would inevitably have described a wide circle, since the rowers on that side were pulling a stronger stroke than those on the port side. "Rocks ahead!" shouted Everest, who was perched in the bows of the "Otters" boat. "Stop pulling: backwater," ordered Atherton, and soon both boats were lying five yards apart and within twice that distance of the lee side of Seal Island. "We've missed the landing, Atherton," announced Simpson. "We have," agreed the Leader. "And what is more, I don't know on which side of it we are. One part of the cliff is very much like another. Look here, Simpson, you take your boat to the right, and I'll steer mine to the left: we cannot be very much out. The first one that finds the landing must give a hail." The boats separated, both skirting the shore in opposite directions. "There's some one rowing," exclaimed Everest. "Right ahead." "I think it's Simpson's boat," replied Atherton. "It is difficult to locate sound in a fog." Nearer and nearer came the sound, till Atherton knew that he was mistaken. "Boat ahoy!" he bawled. There was no reply. Whoever it was scorned to take notice of the hail, and the splash of the oars grew fainter and fainter. "Here's the landing," announced Everest. "Why, that boat must have put off from there." "Hope the fellow's honest," muttered Atherton, "or our camp might be ransacked. I didn't like his churlish manner in not replying. Shout to Simpson, Phillips, and let him know we've found the place." As soon as the boats were hauled up and properly secured and their gear removed, the Scouts wended their way up the zig-zag path to the camp. Atherton gave a sigh of relief to find that nothing had been interfered with. Speedily the tents were opened, the cooks tackled the kitchen fire, while foragers were sent to collect fuel and cover it up so that it might be dry for the morning. As soon as the belated meal was over and the "camp fire" fairly in swing, Atherton called Simpson aside. "What do you say to keeping watch all night?" he asked. "It may be a useless job, but there is something not quite right. I want to find out who the mysterious visitor to the Island is, and what he comes here for." "I'm game," answered the Leader of the "Wolves." "We'll pick one fellow from each patrol and take two hours each; that will carry us through till sunrise, and I don't fancy any night prowler will be knocking about after that."