The day had been quite warm, and Nick and Nellie, pausing on the bank of the shrunken creek, began to find themselves exceedingly uncomfortable; for not only was there a great increase of heat, but the smoke was too heavy to be breathed without great pain and irritation to the lungs.
"It looks as if we are to be strangled to death, after all," Nick said, "for it is hard to breathe now, and it is growing worse every minute."
"Let's go up by the pond: it isn't far away."
"It must be as bad there as anywhere else, but we shall die if we stay here."
There seemed little choice in the matter, but one of the impossibilities is for a boy or girl to stand still when suffering, and the suggestion of Nellie was acted upon at once.
She had released the arm of Nick, who started up the right bank, she following close behind him. The walking was easy, for the creek had receded from the greater portion of the bed it usually occupied, and that had become hardened by long exposure to the heat of the sun.
It was not far to the pond of which I have spoken, and which occupied an extent of an acre, or perhaps more. The place was a favorite with the boys of the neighborhood, and some of the most delightful swims Nick Ribsam had ever enjoyed were in that sheet of water.
The water was cold, clear, and deep in many places. What more tempting resort for a tired, thirsty and overheated lad can be imagined especially when he knows that it will be a piece of disobedience for him to go there?
"That's the place," he exclaimed, hastening his footsteps; "when we get there, we'll have a chance to breathe."
"Hurry up, then, Nick, for I can't stand this much longer."