They had no spade, but with some flat sticks managed to scoop out a hole of respectable depth and in this they buried the canine. Over the spot the young Southerner placed a peculiar stick to mark the spot.
"He was a fine dog and was once the pet of my father," he said. "Some day I may place a monument over his grave."
They left the vicinity and continued on their trip around the lake, scanning every indentation of the shore for a possible glimpse of the Dora. There were many winding places, so it was noon before the task was half completed.
"This is growing to be a longer hunt than I anticipated," remarked
Fred. "I thought finding the houseboat would be dead easy."'
Lunch was had, and once again they went on the search, this time at a point where a bayou joined Lake Sico to a smaller lake. Here they had to move with care, for the bayou was filled with the hidden roots of trees long since thrown down by storms.
"Of ve ton't look out ve peen caught in dem dree roots," observed Hans, looking down into the water. "Say, ton't da look like vater snakes?"
"They certainly do, and they are almost as dangerous—for the launch."
Soon came a grinding tinder the boat and the screw came to a standstill. A tree root had caught fast, and further progress was out of the question until the screw could be cleared.
"I'll go over and do the job!" cried Tom. "I know how." And the others being willing he divested himself of most of his clothing, leaped overboard, and was soon at work. It was no light task, as he had to cut the root in several places with a jackknife.
"We had better land and look around," said Harold Bird. "I'd hate to get the screw caught again and break it, for then we'd certainly be in a pickle."