Part 20 (1/2)

”If only we can make that channel,” she panted. ”If the water's deep enough all the way to it, we can. Or if the floe doesn't come too fast.”

Florence, who thought she had expended every ounce of energy in her body, took three long breaths, then, having hooked her pole to the prow of the O Moo, began to pull. Soon Marian joined her on the pole and together the girls struggled.

By uniting their energies they were able to drag the reluctant O Moo length by length toward the goal.

Once Florence, having entrusted her weight to a rotten bit of ice, plunged into the chilling waters. But by Marian's aid she climbed upon a safer cake and, shaking the water from her, resumed her t.i.tanic labors.

Twice the hull of the O Moo touched bottom. Each time they were able to drag her free.

At last with a long-drawn sigh they threw their united strength into a shove which sent her, prow first, up the still waters at the mouth of the stream.

There remained for them but one means of reaching sh.o.r.e--to swim.

With a little ”Oo-oo!” Marian plunged in. She was followed closely by Florence.

Twenty minutes later they were in the cabin of the O Moo and rough linen towels were bringing the warm, ruddy glow of life back to their half-frozen limbs. The O Moo was lying close to the bank where an overhanging tree gave them a safe mooring.

As Florence at last, after having drawn on a garment of soft clingy material and having thrown a warm dressing gown over this, sank into a chair, she murmured:

”Thanks be! We are here. But, after all, where is 'here'?”

CHAPTER XIV ”A PHANTOM WIRELESS”

It was night, dark, cloudy, moonless night. Florence could scarcely see enough of the sandy beach to tell where she was going. She had, however, been over that same ground in the daytime, so she knew it pretty well.

Besides, she wasn't going any place; just walking back and forth, up and down a long, narrow stretch of hard-packed and frozen sand.

She was thinking. Walking in the darkness helped her to think. When there is nothing to hear, nothing to see and nothing to feel, and when the movement of one's feet keeps the blood moving, then one can do the best thinking. Anyway that was the way this big, healthy, hopeful college girl thought about it. So she had wrapped herself in a heavy cape and had come out to think.

They had been ice-locked on the island for thirty-six hours. The ice had crowded on sh.o.r.e for a time. It had piled high in places. Now the wind had gone down and it was growing colder. It seemed probable that the ice would freeze into one solid ma.s.s, in which case they would be locked in for who knows how long.

The water in their little natural harbor had taken on something of a crust. It was possible that the boat would be frozen into the stream.

”Not that it matters,” she told herself rather gloomily. ”We can't start the engine and as long as we can't it is impossible for us to leave the island; only thing we can do is wait until someone discovers our plight or we are able to hail a boat.”

They were on an island; they had made sure of that first thing. She and Marian had gone completely around it. It wasn't much of an island either.

Just a wreath of sand thrown up from the bottom of the lake, it could scarcely be more than three miles long by a half mile wide. The stream they had entered, running almost from end to end of it, drained the whole of it. The highest point was at the north. This point was a sand dune some forty feet high. Their boat was moored at the south end. The entire island, except along the beach, was covered with a scrub growth of pine and fir trees. As far as they could tell, not a single person had ever lived on the island.

”It's very strange,” Marian had said when they had made the rounds of it.

”It doesn't seem possible that there could be such an island on the lake without summer cottages on it.”

”No, it doesn't,” Florence had answered. ”What an ideal spot! Wonderful beaches on every side. Fis.h.i.+ng too, I guess. And far enough from land to enjoy a cool breeze on the hottest day of summer.”

Though they had constantly strained their eyes in an endeavor to discover other land in the distance, they had not succeeded.

”Probably belongs to someone who will not lease it,” said Florence at last.

So here she was trying to think things through. There was danger of a real catastrophe. The food in their pantry could not possibly last over ten days. Then what? As far as she knew, there was not a thing to be eaten on the island. It was possible that fish could be caught beneath the lake ice or in their stream. She meant to try that in the morning.