Part 8 (1/2)

”We must fight against that with all our might!” yelled the other, as he pushed back to where the sweep was to be found. They set to work with every pound of force they could bring to the front.

Again and again was the long oar dipped into the water, and made to press against the rush of the current.

”How is it?” gasped Maurice, after they had been employed in this manner for some five minutes, each sixty seconds filled with anxiety.

”I think we are about holding our own!” replied Thad.

”Is that all? Then how can we ever get her in nearer the sh.o.r.e?”

demanded his chum, forlornly, as he continued to tug away.

”Have to trust to luck for that,” came the immediate reply.

”Tell me how?” implored Maurice, who somehow failed to grasp the situation quite as accurately as the other.

”The sh.o.r.e lines change constantly, you know.”

”Yes, that's so; but we might open up a big pocket at any time, as soon as strike a point sticking out,” suggested Maurice.

”Sure. That's what I meant when I said we'd have to stick everlastingly at it, and trust to luck for the rest,” replied his comrade.

Perhaps it was because Thad had been up against hard knocks more than his friends, but one thing was evident--when trouble of this kind came he seemed able to show a better and more hopeful spirit than Maurice.

Another short s.p.a.ce of time pa.s.sed.

”Say, this is working our pa.s.sage all right!” came from Maurice.

”But so long as we hold our own we ain't got a thing to say. And I think we're doing that, don't you, Maurice?”

”I did a minute ago, but just now it strikes me the trees kind of look further away.”

”That's a fact, they do; but mebbe it's only a little bay before we strike that point, you know,” continued the other lad.

They dared not halt a single minute in their labor, for fear lest the boat be carried further out on the raging river.

”How are you--feel cold?” asked Thad, a little later.

”Not much--I'm as warm as toast, all but my hands, and they're freezing. But where's the land, Thad? Can you see anything of those bully old trees, partner?”

”Mighty little just now; but I'm hoping they ain't going to give us the shake just yet. That would be mighty mean, when we think so much of 'em!” said the second willing worker, as he tugged and strained with all his power.

It really looked more perilous than ever around the bobbing shanty-boat, which was now being tossed about on the water very much after the style of a cork.

And if the waves ran so high close to the sh.o.r.e what must they be far, far out yonder toward the middle of the mighty stream?

Neither of the tugging lads wanted to picture the scene; indeed, they had all they could manage in considering how the wabbly craft might be piloted so as to once more hug the friendly sh.o.r.e.

Presently a shout from Maurice, rather feeble it must be confessed, for he was short of breath just then, announced that he had made some sort of happy discovery.

”Land! land!” he exclaimed, hoa.r.s.ely, just as a s.h.i.+pwrecked sailor on a floating raft might cry as an island hove in sight.