Bob had awakened from the noise of the tempest. He sat up, half frightened, but when Jerry assured him everything was safe he turned over and dozed off again, so powerful a hold did the fever have on him.
It was a night such as the travelers had seldom experienced on any of their journeys, and they had been in some tight places. There was almost a continuous rattle and roar of thunder and the lightning was incessant. Mingled with the rain was the boom of the lake waves on the shore, for the wind kicked up quite a disturbance on the large body of water.
“I hope our boat’s safe,” remarked Jerry as there sounded a fiercer burst of the storm.
It seemed as if morning would never come but at last there was a perceptible lifting of the darkness and the storm seemed to abate some. Ned put on an oil-skin coat, and, donning a pair of rubber boots, ventured out. No sooner had he emerged from the tent than he gave a shout which brought the professor and Jerry to the tent flap.
“What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“We’re adrift!”
“Adrift! What do you mean? We’re not on the boat!”
“No, but we’re on something that’s floating. Look over there at those trees on shore and you can see that we’re moving!”
Jerry and the professor looked. Getting two tall trees in range they could easily note that they were moving, as the position of the trees changed with reference to themselves.
“What could have happened?” asked Jerry.