“Who’s going to put it in print?” asked Bob; “we know too much to tell any one about it, or, if we did, we would get it in a shape that would do us proud.”
“Well, being as we have had all we want of hunting, the next thing will be—what?”
“Doing nothing,” replied Wagstaff.
“We can do the next thing to that, which is just as good.”
“What’s that?” asked Bob.
“Fish; stretch out along-shore in the shade, where there’s no danger of rolling in, or go out in a boat and wait for the fish to bite, not caring much whether they do or not. The best thing about fishing is that you never have to tire yourself—”
“Hark!”
At that moment the three heard a prodigious roar, rapidly increasing in volume, until the air seemed to be filled with one continuous reverberating peal of thunder.
“Heaven save us!” exclaimed Bob Budd; “the dam has burst!”
“And it is coming down on us and we can’t get out of its path!” added white-faced Wagstaff.