“Do you think there’s anything in that, Thad, or can it be land?” asked the former, as he saw his chum start for the door, which was partly open at the time.
“The rain seems to have let up some, anyway!” proclaimed Smithy, as though he did not want them to think he was behind the rest in noticing things worth while.
When the two scouts reached the door and thrust their heads out, they saw the same old gloom there, “thick enough to cut with a knife,” as Giraffe would have said. But Thad discovered something more.
“Look up against the sky, Allan!” he cried joyously.
“Trees, as sure as you live!” shouted the other, almost immediately.
“What’s that you say?” roared Giraffe, pushing alongside; “trees, is it, and us out in the middle of the flooded Susquehanna? How’s that come, Thad? Is this an old island we’ve bumped against?”
“I calculate that’s just what it is, Giraffe,” was the reply of the patrol leader; and at hearing this astonishing as well as pleasing news the rest of the inmates of the cabin broke out into a shout that under ordinary conditions might have been heard a full mile away.
“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah, and a tiger!” was what Giraffe called for and the cheers were given with a vim that took their breath away.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE ISLAND OF HOPE.
“Give me the solid ground every time,” Bumpus burst out with; and from the broad grin on his face, no longer pallid, it was easy to see that he meant what he said.