There were a couple of buckets in the camp, and these were immediately pressed into service by the enthusiastic young fire-fighters. One fellow stood down by the river, and dipped each bucket in as it came back empty. Then in turn it was relayed along from hand to hand, until finally either Brad or Fred received it.
They used their judgment as to where the water was to be thrown, and with such good results that after a short time it was seen that the fire did not burn so brilliantly as before.
"Hurrah! fellows, we're doing the business, all right!" shouted Corney, who had been working like an industrious beaver all the time.
"It's dying out, and that's a fact!" cried Colon, the one who dipped up the water at the other end of the line. "Getting much darker down here. About time, too, I reckon, because I've just about emptied the whole river!"
"Oh! quit your grumbling, Colon!" called out Sid, who was just above the bank, receiving each bucket that the tall boy reached up to him. "We ought to be sending up a regular chorus because we saved our boat."
"Don't believe for a minute that I'm growling, Sid," the long-legged Colon gasped, for he began to feel winded by his exertion. "I'm only bothered for fear there won't be enough river left for that boat race to be pulled off."
"Plenty more coming from above, Colon; so brace up. Perhaps it'll rain cats and dogs before the race comes off, and the river be bank full," and Dave Hanshaw tossed an empty bucket down to the boy at the brink of the stream.
"A few more and we can let up, boys!" came the cheering news from Brad, who, being close to the burning brush, ought to know.
And indeed, it did suddenly become gloomy as the fire failed to find any more dry fuel to feed upon, so that it gasped fitfully, and threatened to go out entirely.
So, presently, there was no further need of exertion on the part of the now weary passers of water; and the boys began to gather around their own blaze, which some one had rekindled with fresh wood.