Just beyond the bluff the lake was fully fifty feet deep, so Dale and Owen knew that, if they wished to save the children and themselves from drowning, they would either have to swim to the opposite shore or to the island upon which grew the giant pine. The fire was already running all along the edge of the bluff, and threatened to cross the cove, on the opposite shore of which was located the Wilbur lodge.
Each of the young lumbermen could have swum to the island with ease had he been alone. But with an excited and kicking child in his arms it was not so easy.
"Take me out of the water!" spluttered Gertrude. "Take me out!"
"We'll be drowned!" came from Bertie. "Oh, please put me on the shore, please!"
"We'll take care of you, only keep quiet," said Dale. "We can't carry you if you kick like that."
"And you mustn't hold too tight," put in Owen, for Bertie had him by the throat in the tightest clutch his little hands could command.
But the children were too young to understand the situation, and they continued to cry and kick and hold on as tightly as ever. All Dale and Owen could do was to tread water, and more than once it looked as if they would go down after all. Swimming from the vicinity of the bluff was out of the question, and now the sparks and flying embers began to come down around them, hissing and steaming as they fell.
"We've got to do something," came desperately from Owen. "Let us try our best to reach the island."
"Yes, put me on the island," said Bertie eagerly.
"Then keep real quiet and I will, Bertie."