Just as they were making fast, too, another lumber-laden barge came drifting past, close into shore, and struck them with such force as to stave in the bulwarks aft and break two stanchions that supported the roof.
As the two boats hung in contact for a moment, there was a singular accession to the crew of the ark. A large pet bear, terrified, perhaps, by the crash, and seeing, as he thought, a way of escaping ashore, broke his chain and leaped across from the lumber barge to the roof of the ark just as the two boats swung clear of each other.
With a muttered malediction from her captain, who seemed in a bad temper, the lumber boat drifted away on the swift current. The bear, meanwhile, was making for the shore, but when he attempted to clamber down the other side of the roof, his chain caught in a crack between the planks and brought him up short at the bulwarks of the main deck below.
Thus, the pet of the lumbermen was transferred from one craft to the other, and all in a space of less than five seconds of time!
In the gathering dusk the arksmen stood staring after the barge which had given them so rude a salute. Captain Royce then hailed them:
“Hallo, the barge!”
“Hallo, the ark!” was the gruff response from the receding craft.
“You’ve left something!” Marion shouted, laughing.
“And good riddance!” was the uncivil response.
Meanwhile the wolf-dog, Tige, who considered himself guardian of the ark, set upon the bear, tooth and nail, but came off badly from the encounter. The crew gathered round, and after looking the newcomer over by lantern-light, secured him more comfortably and fed him. He was a fine black bear, about a year and a half old.