When Dave was almost exhausted he felt bottom under him, and hand in hand he and Simon Lapp waded ashore. The rain was now coming down harder than ever, and both crawled to the shelter of some overhanging trees, regardless of the danger from lightning.
"We're in a pickle, that's certain," observed Dave, when he felt able to speak. "Do you reckon anybody will come to shore for us?"
"More'n likely some of the boats have been driven ashore," answered Lapp. "Let us be thankful that our lives have been spared."
Dave was thankful, and as they crouched there in the darkness he uttered a prayer to God for His mercies, and prayed that this adventure might speedily be brought to a safe conclusion.
As we know, the storm was not of long duration, and by nightfall Dave and Lapp were walking along the shore, searching for friends, or for some signs of the other batteaux.
But, strange as it may seem, no boats showed themselves, nor did a single human being come into sight.
"Might as well give it up," said the sailor-soldier at last. "I'm too tired to stick on my pins a minit longer. Let's make a fire and dry off."
Dave was agreeable, and the fire was started, although not without great difficulty. In moving along the shore they had come across a few small fish thrown up by the fury of the wind and these they cooked and ate.
The next day found Dave and Lapp still in the woods. In some manner they had strayed from the lake front and before nightfall they had covered many miles in an endeavor to set themselves right once again. They had found no more game, and being without means of shooting anything, or even of going fishing, were almost starved for the want of food.
"We've got to do something," said Dave, on the following morning. "If we don't, we'll starve. I'm going to try to bring down some birds with sticks and stones."