midnight
Now , to me the top side of a log was as easy and familiar as a rocking-chair . In a moment I was sitting comfortably on my captive . A bit of rubbish , like that the wind had sown , trailed after the gang of logs , I felt it over , finding a straw hat and a piece of board some three feet long , with which latter I paddled vigorously . It must have been long past midnight when I came to an island looming in the dark ahead . I sculled for it , stranding on a rocky beach , and alighted , hauling the log ashore . The moon came out as I stood wringing my trouser legs . I saw the island rose high and narrow and was thickly wooded .