While Raymond had declared jokingly that they were making two knots, it was probably a fact that they were not going so fast as that. The raft, however, with its broad sail before an increasing breeze, was moving through the water at a rate that was perceptible, and that, to their joy, was taking them toward a safe, neutral country. A few thin gray clouds were coming in from the east, but the sun was still warm and invited to ease and comfort. So the various members of the little party stretched themselves out as best they might. There was nothing, however, to mitigate the hardness of the surface on which they lay, except their own will to endure it. “After all,” said Raymond, “this beats some of the beds we had in the Caucasus.” “That must have been a tough tramp for you boys,” said Captain Foster. “It was,” replied Sidney, “and if we had known just how hard it would be, I think we should not have attempted it.” “Well,” said Raymond, “we were never blown up at any rate. I hope the raft won’t strike another mine; it would be our finish if it did.” “That is not likely,” said the captain. “It is strange that even one mine should have floated out so far from the Austrian coast.” As the day advanced, the wind increased and the raft ceased to be a stable vehicle. It pitched and rolled altogether too much for comfort. The occupants of the raft, too, became very thirsty, and Captain Foster and the boys, who had missed their breakfast, added the pangs of hunger to the misery of thirst. Hunger and thirst, however painful, might be borne, but the endurance of the raft in a gale was an undetermined problem. It was a problem, though, that promised to press for solution, for the wind continued to increase, and the clouds rolled up dark and darker from the east. The raft plunged heavily and sullenly through the rising sea. Finally, Captain Foster ordered the sail down, and the coats restored, each to its owner. It was high time that the coats were made to perform their proper office again, for the wind had become very cold, and the spray constantly drenched the occupants of the raft. The sail, too, must soon have been torn away if it had not been taken down. Soon after noon the wind had risen to a gale, and instead of lying stretched in a warm sun on a placid sea, the shipwrecked party were huddled together under a cold and lowering sky. They crouched in silence, for no one felt like talking. When the raft made an especially violent plunge and nearly stood on edge, they all clutched each other, and by their very bulk maintained their position. At one such time, however, Sidney failed to grasp the man who was next him, and slid to the edge. He only saved himself there by seizing hold of a stick which protruded a little above the level of the raft. [Illustration: SIDNEY SLID TO THE EDGE]