CHAPTER XXVI
THE SINKING CRAFT
"THIS looks bad!" said Bob.
He had to raise his voice much above the ordinary, for out there onthe river the rushing water did not seem so silent as the boys hadbelieved when ashore; and all around them could be heard the boiling ofthe flood. Tree trunks floated around them in all directions, showingwhat an unusual thing this sudden rise of the river must be. There wasconstant danger lest one of these tremendous snags sink the delicatelittle skin boat; and often the boys had to use their paddles like madto prevent such a catastrophe from happening.
And once, even a more singular peril threatened them. It was Sandy whomade the discovery, shortly after Bob had uttered the remark givenabove.
"Oh! look yonder, brother; whatever can that be, perched up in thattree-top? It moved then, and we are getting closer to it all thewhile!" he exclaimed.
Bob needed only one look to tell him the nature of the object.
"It is a panther, Sandy," he said, quickly, and with a shake of hishead. "A big cat of the wilderness; and, as Colonel Boone said, thething most to be feared in all the forest, for it jumps on the hunterfrom behind. See his sleek gray sides? And notice how he swings hislong tail back and forth? I do not think we want to get any closer tothe gentleman, do you, Sandy?"
"See him crouch, Bob!" cried the other boy, in alarm. "Do you think hemeans to jump for the boat? What if he did, and upset us out here? Thatwould be terrible! Let us shout together, and scare him, if we can!"
They did so, at the same time working feverishly to urge the boatfurther away from the drifting tree-top, which had come to be therefuge of the wood's terror.
Bob cast an apprehensive eye at the distance separating them. Could theanimal clear it, if he decided to jump? Would he dream of changing hisbase in the hope of bettering his condition?
In fact, Bob was just considering whether it would not be wiser for himto rely on his gun, if the priming could be renewed in time, ratherthan in the hope of leaving the beast in the lurch, when Sandy criedout gleefully:
"We're gaining, Bob! Keep paddling like mad, and we shall make it.Already he hesitates, and dares not try! A strong pull, a long pull,and a pull all together now. Hurrah! who cares?"
It was hard to quench that lad's spirit. And somehow, even in such amoment of alarm, his buoyant courage did much to renew Bob's sinkinghopes.
By increasing their pace, already incredibly swift, down the stream,they had managed to leave the panther and his tree-top in the lurch.There was no longer anything to be feared from that source.
"Are we making any progress at all?" asked Sandy, who was pretty wellexhausted from his exertions.
"In one direction, yes; but toward the home shore I'm afraid not atall," was Bob's frank reply.
"But what shall we do?" cried the younger boy, in rapidly growingalarm; for by now the situation was beginning to impress even hisbuoyant nature. "We can never keep on like this all day, for the rivergrows constantly wider, and the flood stronger. Besides, Bob, I'mafraid the canoe is beginning to leak!"
Now, Bob had known that terrible fact for some little time, buthesitated to tell his brother, feeling sure that nothing they could dowould mend matters.
"I have been thinking, Sandy; and there seems only one chance for usnow," he said, trying to look ahead down the river.
"Oh! I hope you don't mean that we will have to swim for it!" cried theother, aghast at the idea of finding himself buffeting the flood, witheither shore far away.
"No, I hope that may not come--yet a while, at least. But I wasthinking of the island!" said Bob.
"The island! Oh! how did I come to forget that?" shouted Sandy,immediately beginning to show signs of new ambition. "Yes, that is it,Bob! We must try to land on the island, if it is still above water."
"Oh!" declared Bob, quickly, "part of it must be, for you remember ithad quite a little hill on it."
"Yes, yes, for I spoke about the splendid tree that crowned the top,and said how I would like to own a cabin up under its shelter. Butperhaps we have gone past the island! That would be terrible, wouldn'tit, Bob?"
"Surely. But I am positive that is not true. I am looking to see it atany moment now. And, Sandy, just as soon as it comes into view, we mustpaddle like everything to make it. Once we fly past, and it is all overwith us!"
The two castaways looked at each other, and each set his teeth with adetermination to do wonders should the occasion call for it.
"Do you suppose we are anywhere on a line with the island?" askedSandy, a new fear taking possession of him.
Bob shook his head.
"I don't know. It is impossible to tell anything in all this noise andconfusion. But I think so; I hope so," he replied.
Both now settled down to watching the watery vista that stretchedbeyond. The wind was driving the rain out there on the river, so thatat times a curtain seemed to be raised before them, only to fade awayas the rain again held up for a brief interval.
Bob cast an occasional glance full of apprehension down at the waterthat was coming into the canoe. He knew that the leak must be growing,slowly but surely. Could they manage to make land before the boatfilled and sank under them?
"There! I saw the island, I am sure!" cried Sandy, in a ringing tone."But the rain has come back, and it is hidden again," he added indisgust.
"Which way?" shouted Bob.
"Over to the right! We must be just a little too far out!" repliedSandy.
"Then let us get to work! Head in toward the shore we have left, and doyour very hardest, boy!" cried Bob.
Both of the lads dipped the paddles deeply. As before, they found thatit required a giant's strength to accomplish anything worth while whenpitted against that tremendous energy contained in the swift-movingflood.
Fortunately Sandy had recuperated in the brief time he had rested fromhis efforts, so that he was able to do himself credit now, when so muchdepended on changing their location.
The bare thought of missing the friendly island, and being carried ondown that raging torrent, possibly to meet death somewhere below, wasenough to make any one, even more tired than Sandy, swing his bladewith a vim.
"Oh! we can never do it, Bob!" he gasped.
"Never say die! Keep at it, I tell you! It is our only chance!" waswhat came back from the other wielder of the spruce paddle.
The island could now be plainly seen. It did not look so large by halfas when they had seen it on going up the river; but the more elevatedparts were standing well out of the flood. On the upper end was a massof accumulated debris in the shape of stranded trees and logs.
Poor Sandy looked, and a groan burst from his lips, for he feared theywould not be able to overcome the current sufficiently to bring theirlittle craft close enough to that friendly shore to enable them to land!
And Bob, who clung so desperately to hope, knew that there wasabsolutely no chance for them to reach a landing spot at the upper end,even if they had wanted to mix up with all that mass of interlockedtrees.
He had grasped the situation in a comprehensive way, and sized it up.
The island was narrow, but somewhat lengthy. Of course the currentran like a mill-race along the shore. But Bob knew that below, wherethe two opposite tides met once more, there was bound to be somewhatof a reaction. Here a little backward swirl would be found, a sort ofundertow, bearing upstream toward the foot of the island.
It would only extend for a limited distance. Once they got beyond thatdrawback, and there was absolutely no hope of making land!
And that was the one thing he had in mind when he sang out soencouragingly to his weaker brother:
"It is our only chance!"
Sandy was paddling with all his nerve, but not making a very greatsuccess of the effort. In fact, he was so winded that he hardly knewwhen he dipped his blade in the yeasty water, or drew it quaveringlytoward him.
Still, he was game, and would not give up so long as he could move ahand. What little he could do
to help might not stand for much, butevery bit helped, and even in his great distress Sandy realized this.
He could see his brother fighting like mad to swerve the boat stillfurther toward that shore, now so very close. It did not seem possiblethat Bob could be equal to the slightest additional call upon hisreserve forces.
Now they had actually reached the upper end of the island, and werecommencing to speed along its length.
A minute or so more, and they would know their fate. Everything seemedto depend on that last turn, when the canoe arrived at the junction ofthe two currents, just below the foot of the haven of safety.
"On the outer side--change over and help me!" shouted Bob, knowing thatthe critical moment was at hand.
Sandy started hastily to obey, jumping at conclusions. But once morehis nervousness played him a scurvy trick.
"Oh! it is gone!" Bob heard him shriek suddenly, and, glancing up, theelder brother saw what had happened. The fierce sweep of the currenthad snatched the paddle from Sandy's weakened hand, and it was alreadyfloating far beyond his reach!