"
Harriet watched the vessel for some moments. She saw it swing around a
long, narrow point of land a short distance to the south of the camp
and boldly enter a bay. She was unable to make out with any
distinctness what was being done there, but she heard the creak of the
boom as it swung over and the rattle of the tackle as the sails came
down, though unable to interpret these sounds. Soon there came a sharp
whistle from human lips, answered by a similar whistle from the shore,
then all was quiet.
Harriet Burrell crept back under the canvas, wondering vaguely what
could be the meaning of this. She was too sleepy to think much about
it and soon dropped into a sound sleep, from which she was destined to
be rudely awakened.
CHAPTER VII
A SUDDEN STORM
The canvas that covered the sleeping Meadow-Brook Girls was suddenly
lifted from them, then whipped back with a force that nearly knocked
the breath out of some of them.
A chorus of yells greeted the giant slap of the canvas, and a bevy of
girls rolled and scrambled out of the way.
"Hold it down, or we shall lose it," cried Harriet, her voice barely
heard in the roar of the wind. But no one of the party seemed inclined
to act as an anchor for the canvas, which was rolled, then whisked out
of sight.
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