Kingdon fell out with a bounce and lay prone on the ground. Marjorie sprang out, and as she reached the ground, struck out like a swimmer in the water.
Kitty daintily stepped out, remarking: "This is a fine life-preserver. I can stand straight up in the water."
Baby Rosamond bundled out backward, dropping Boffin as she did so.
"The bear, the bear!" screamed Kingdon, and swimming a few strokes along the soft, green grass, he grabbed the bear and waved him aloft.
"What can we do!" stammered Marjorie, panting for breath. "I've swum till I'm exhausted. Must I drown!" With a wail, she turned on her eyes on the grass, and closing her eyes, prepared to sink beneath the waves.
"Do not despair," urged Kingdon, as he grasped her arm. "Perhaps we can find a plank or a raft. Or perhaps we can yet swim ashore."
"How many survivors are we?" asked Marjorie, sitting up in the water and looking about.
"Four," responded Kitty; "but I won't swim. It makes my dress all greeny, and stubs my shoes out."
Kitty was the only Maynard who was finicky about her clothes. It called forth much derision from her elder brother and sister, but she stood firm. She would play their plays, until it came to "swimming" across grass and earth, and there she rebelled.
"All right," said Kingdon, good-naturedly, "you needn't. There's a raft," pointing to what had been the gangplank. "Cannot you and your infant daughter manage to get ashore on that? This other lady is an expert swimmer, and I think she can reach land, while Buffalo Bill will, of course, save himself."