As the crew of the Zephyr tugged at their oars, their imperfect discipline imposing double labor upon them, Charles had an opportunity to consider his position.  The bright color of romance which his fancy had given to the enterprise was gone.  The night air was cold and damp, and his companions in error were repulsive to him.  There was no pleasure in commanding such a motley crew of ill-natured and quarrelsome bullies, and if it had been possible, he would have fled from them.  Who plunges into vice may find himself in a snare from which he cannot escape though he would.

At last they reached the island, and the Sylph was anchored near the shore.  There was a great deal of hard work to be done; but each of the Rovers seemed to expect the others would do it.

“Now, Charley, everything is right so far,” said Tim Bunker, whose party had just drawn Joe Braman’s boat upon the beach.

“Everything is wrong,” Charles wanted to say; but Tim was too powerful to be lightly offended.

“I can do nothing with such a crew as that,” whined he.  “They won’t mind, and every fellow wants his own way.”

“Hit ’em if they don’t mind,” replied Tim.

“I think we had better spend an hour in drilling them.  We can’t handle the boat as it is.”

“We must get the tents up before we do anything else.  You go after the stakes and poles and I will get the provisions.”

Before the crews returned to the boats, Tim made a little speech to them upon the necessity of order; promising, if any boy did not obey, he would thrash him “within an inch of his life.”

“Now tumble into the boats, and, Charley, if any feller don’t do what you tell him, let me know it, and I will lick him for you.”

“All aboard!” said Charles.

“Where are we going now?” asked one of his crew.

“No matter; all you have got to do is to obey orders,” replied Charles, sharply.

“Say that again!” said the fellow, with an oath, as he doubled up his fist, and menaced the unfortunate coxswain with a thrashing.

“Hallo, Tim!” shouted Charles, who dared not venture to carry out the Bunker’s summary policy.

“What’s the row?” said Tim, as he hastened to the spot.

“I can’t do anything with this crew; here is a fellow shaking his fist in my face.”

“Let him be civil then,” added the refractory Rover.

“It was you, was it, Barney?” said Tim, as he stepped into the boat.

“I’ll bet it was,” replied the fellow, standing upon the defensive.

“Take that, then,” continued the “chief,” as he brought his fist down upon the rebel with such force that he tumbled over the side of the boat into the water.  “You want to get up a mutiny-don’t you?”

The fellow scrambled ashore, wet through and shivering with cold.

“You’ll catch it for that, Tim Bunker!” growled Barney.

“I’ll teach you to mind.  Now, Charley, put off, and don’t be so stiff with them yet.  They are not such chicken-hearted pups as the Zephyrs, I can tell you;” and Tim stepped ashore.

“Take your oars; if you only do as I tell you, we shall get along very well,” said Charles.  “We can’t do anything unless you mind.”

He then showed them how to get their oars out, and how to start together; but they did not feel interest enough in the process to pay much attention to what he said, and several ineffectual attempts were made before they got a fair start.

“Hallo!  Ain’t you going to take me?” shouted Barney, from the shore, as they were leaving.

“Will you obey orders?”

“Yes; but I won’t be kicked.”

“Nobody wants to kick you,” replied Charles, who, deeming that the rebel had made a satisfactory concession, put back after him.

“This ducking will be the death of me,” said Barney, as he got into the boat.

“A little hard pulling will warm you, and when we get back, we shall make a fire on the island,” answered Charles, in a conciliatory tone, “Now, ready-pull!”

The Rovers worked better now, and the Zephyr moved with tolerable rapidity towards the shore; but it was very dark under the shadow of the trees, and Charles could not readily find the place where the materials for the tent had been concealed.  Each of the crew thought he knew more about the business than the coxswain; and in the scrape the Zephyr was run aground, heeled over on one side, and filled half full of water.

It required some time to bail her out; but it was accomplished at last, the stakes and poles put on board, and they rowed off to the island again.  Tim had arrived before him, and had landed the stores.

“Where are the matches, Tim?” asked Charles.

“What are you going to do?”

“Make a fire.”

“What for?”

“Some of us are wet, and we can’t see to put up the tents without it.”

“But a fire will betray us.”

“What matter?  We are safe from pursuit.”

“Go it, then,” replied Tim, as he handed Charles a bunch of matches.

The fire was kindled, and it cast a cheerful light over the scene of their operations.

“Now, Rovers, form a ring round the fire,” said Tim, “and we will fix things for the future.”

The boys obeyed this order, though Barney, in consideration of his uncomfortable condition, was permitted to lie down before the fire and dry his clothes.

“I am the chief of the band; I suppose that is understood,” continued Tim.

“Yes,” they all replied.

“And that Charley Hardy is second in command.  He can handle a boat, and the rest of you can’t.”

“I don’t know about that,” interposed one of them.  “He upset the boat on the beach.”

“That was because the crew did not obey orders,” replied Charles.

“He is second in command,” replied Tim.  “Do you agree to that?”

“Yes,” answered several, who were willing to follow the lead of the chief.

“Very well; I shall command one party and Charley the other; each in his own boat and on the island.  Now we will divide each party into two squads, or watches.”

“What for?” asked Barney.

“To keep watch, and do any duty that may be wanted of them.”

Tim had got this idea of an organization from his piratical literature.  Indeed, the plan of encamping upon the island was an humble imitation of a party of buccaneers who had fortified one of the smallest of the islands in the West Indies.  The whole scheme was one of the natural consequences of reading bad books, in which the most dissolute, depraved, and wicked men are made to appear as heroes, whose lives and characters are worthy of emulation.

Such books fill boys’ heads with absurd, not to say wicked ideas.  I have observed their influence in the course of ten years’ experience with boys; and when I see one who has named his sled “Blackbeard,” “Black Cruiser,” “Red Rover,” or any such names, I am sure he has been reading about the pirates, and has got a taste for their wild and daring exploits-for their deeds of blood and rapine.  One of the truant officers of Boston, whose duty it is to hunt up runaway boys, related to me a remarkable instance of the influence of improper books.  A few years ago, two truant boys were missed by their parents.  They did not return to their homes at night, and it was discovered that one of them had stolen a large sum of money from his father.  A careful search was instituted, and the young reprobates were traced to a town about ten miles from the city, where they were found encamped in the woods.  They had purchased several pistols with their money, and confessed their intention of becoming highwaymen!  It was ascertained that they had been reading the adventures of Dick Turpin, and other noted highwaymen, which had given them this singular and dangerous taste for a life in violation of the laws of God and man.  My young readers will see where Tim got his ideas, and I hope they will shun books which narrate the exploits of pirates and robbers.

Two officers were chosen in each band to command the squads.  Tim was shrewd enough to know that the more offices he created, the more friends he would insure-members who would stand by him in trial and difficulty.  In Charles’s band, one of these offices was given to the turbulent Barney; his fidelity was thus secured, and past differences reconciled.

“Now, Charley, my crew shall put up one tent, and yours the other.”

“Very well,” replied Charles, who derived a certain feeling of security from the organization which had just been completed, and he began to feel more at home.

The stakes were driven down, and the poles placed upon the forks; but sewing the cloth together for the covering was found to be so tedious a job that it was abandoned.  The strips were drawn over the frame of the tent, and fastened by driving pins through it into the ground.  Then it was found that there was only cloth enough to cover one tent.  Tim’s calculations had been defective.

“Here’s a pretty fix,” said Tim.

“I have it,” replied Charles.  “Come with me, Barney, and we will have the best tent of the two.”

Charles led the way to the Sylph, and getting on board of her by the aid of one of the boats, they proceeded to unbend her sails.

“Bravo!  Charley,” said Barney.  “That’s a good idea; but why can’t some of us sleep in this bit of a cuddy house?”

“So we can.  Here is Uncle Ben’s boat cloak, which will make a first-rate bed.  Don’t say a word about it, though, and you and I can have it all to ourselves.”

The sails were carried ashore, and were ample covering for the tent.  Dry leaves, which covered the ground, were then gathered up and put inside for their bed.

“Now, Tim, they are finished, and for one, I begin to feel sleepy,” said Charles.

“We can’t all sleep, you know,” added the prudent chief.

“Why not?”

“We must set a watch.”

“I am too sleepy to watch,” said Charles, with a long gape.  “The clock has just struck one.”

“You needn’t watch, you are the second in command.”

“I see,” replied Charles, standing upon his dignity.

“There are four watches, and each must do duty two hours a night.  Who shall keep the first watch?”

“I will,” said Barney.

“Good!  You must keep the fire going, and have an eye to both sides of the island.”

“Ay, ay.”

“And you must go down to the boats every time the clock strikes, to see if they are all right.  If they should get adrift, you know, our game would be up.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“At three o’clock, you must call the watch that is to relieve you.”

“Who will that be?”

“I,” volunteered the three other officers of the watches, in concert.

“Ben, you shall relieve him.  If anything happens, call me.”

Tim and his followers then retired to their tent, and buried themselves in the leaves.  Charles ordered those of his band who were not on duty to “turn in;” saying that he wanted to warm his feet.  The Rovers were so fatigued by their unusual labors that they soon fell asleep, and Charles then repaired to the little cabin of the Sylph.  Arranging the cloak for his bed, he wrapped himself up in his great-coat and lay down.

Fatigued as he was, he could not go to sleep.  The novelty of his situation, and the guilt, now that the excitement was over, which oppressed his conscience, banished that rest his exhausted frame required.  He heard the village clock strike two and three; and then he rose, unable to endure the reproaches of his own heart.

“What a fool I am!” he exclaimed to himself; and a flood of tears came to his relief.  “To desert my warm bed, my happy home, the friendship of my club, for such a set of fellows as this!  O, how I wish I had not come!”

Leaving the cabin, he seated himself in the stern sheets of the boat.  The bright stars had disappeared, and the sky was veiled in deep black clouds.  The wind blew very fresh from the north-east, and he was certain that a severe storm was approaching.  He wept bitterly when he thought of the gloomy prospect.

He had repented his folly, and would have given the world to get away from the island.  Ah, a lucky thought!  He could escape!  The Rovers were all asleep; the fresh breeze would soon drive the Sylph to the land, and he could return home, and perhaps not be missed.  It was an easy thing; and without further reflection, he unfastened the cable, and dropped it overboard.

The Sylph immediately commenced drifting away from the island.  Taking the helm, he put her before the wind, and was gratified to observe that she made very good headway.

The clock struck four, and he heard the footsteps of the watch upon the shore.

“Boat adrift!” shouted Ben, who was the officer of the watch.

The words were repeated several times, and in a few moments he heard Tim’s voice summoning his crew.  Then the Butterfly dashed down upon him, and his hopes died within him.  But he had the presence of mind to crawl back again to the cabin; and when Tim came onboard, he had the appearance of being sound asleep, so that the chief did not suspect his treachery.