The wind now took another turn and the ice-boat bore away to the left bank of the river. Henshaw did what he could to bring the craft about, but two minutes later came a grating jar and everybody was pitched off into a snowbank, some heels over head.
"I guess we've landed!" spluttered Roger, as he pulled himself to his feet. "Henshaw, what did you do that for?"
"I—I didn't know we were going ashore," replied Henshaw, who had gone head first into the snow himself. "Anybody hurt?"
One after another got up. Fortunately nobody had been hurt. Messmer had some of the snow down his back and Dave had some up his coat sleeve. The ice-boat was as good as ever.
"Now we want to be more careful," said Dave, as they hauled the craft on the lake once more. "One such spill is enough."
"That's true," said Roger. Then the journey was resumed, nobody dreaming of the accident so close at hand.
CHAPTER XXX
DAVE'S HEROISM
As the ice-boat swept along Dave revolved in his mind all that he had heard at the old cabin.