“Let’s try the anchor. It must be dragging,” said Bart. So they all went to work at the windlass, and in course of time found the anchor raised. As they worked, they found it lighter than they expected; and when at length they had ended, they ran to the bows. All was explained. The anchor was broken off short at the fluke. “That’s how it happened,” said Bart. “And so we’re in for another adventure.” “What shall we do now?” “Sail the vessel, of course,” said Bruce. “Where to?” “Back to Pratt’s Cove.” “And where is that?” No one could answer that. Each one looked around carefully, in order to see if he could find any place which looked like Pratt’s Cove. But there were two difficulties in the way of any such discovery. In the first place, they had approached Pratt’s Cove in the dark, and did not know how it looked; and in the second place, they could not see any spot that looked like a cove at all. All around them was the bay. Before them was the Parrsboro’ shore. Behind them was Blomidon. On one side, and a little in front, were the Five Islands about six miles distant; beyond which the waters of the bay extended, till they faded away into a low, indistinct lino of coast. They could understand, in a general way, that Pratt’s Cove lay somewhere in front of them, but they could not guess within twenty miles of the place. “Let’s up sail,” said Tom, “and run up there. It looks like a cove;” and he pointed to a hollow in the line of hills. “O, the hills around Pratt’s Cove are higher than that,” said Bruce. “Suppose we sail over and ask O’Rafferty.” “Very well. I agree to that,” said Bart. “Bruce, you can steer.” “No. You may as well steer,” said Bruce. “I don’t particularly care about it,” said Bart. “Don’t any of you fellows want to?” “O, no. We don’t care. You steer, Bart. We’ll hoist the sails.” So Bart turned away with rather a blank expression on his face, and walked slowly to the rudder. The wind was moderate, and the water only a little ruffled. The other boys, with immense confusion and shouting, toiled away at the sails one after the other, and at last managed to get them set. “Perhaps we’d better not have the foresail up,” suggested Bart. “O, yes. Why not?” said Bruce. “Come, boys--up she rises!” And shouting out a sailor’s song which he had once heard, he completed his work. The vessel moved gently through the water, and Bart pointed her head towards the island which he considered to be O’Rafferty’s. The wind was fair, and the vessel came around very easily, and then headed away for the island.