The two sailors had awakened and now saluted the new-comers. Soon they were exchanging a running fire of questions and answers.
"Where are we?" Rob heard the little sailor ask.
"Coast of Oregon," was the reply. "We're about seven miles from Port Orford by land an' about ten miles by sea."
"Do you live at Port Orford?" inquired the sailor.
"That's what we do, friend; an' if your party wants to join us we'll do our best to make you comf'table, bein' as you're shipwrecked an' need help."
Just then a loud laugh came from another group, where the elder sailor had been trying to explain Rob's method of flying through the air.
"Laugh all you want to," said the sailor, sullenly; "it's true--ev'ry word of it!"
"Mebbe you think it, friend," answered a big, good-natured fisherman; "but it's well known that shipwrecked folks go crazy sometimes, an' imagine strange things. Your mind seems clear enough in other ways, so I advise you to try and forget your dreams about flyin'."
Rob now stepped forward and shook hands with the sailors.
"I see you have found friends," he said to them, "so I will leave you and continue my journey, as I'm in something of a hurry."
Both sailors began to thank him profusely for their rescue, but he cut them short.
"That's all right. Of course I couldn't leave you on that island to starve to death, and I'm glad I was able to bring you away with me."
"But you threatened to drop me into the sea," remarked the little sailor, in a grieved voice.
"So I did," said Rob, laughing; "but I wouldn't have done it for the world--not even to have saved my own life. Good-by!"
