It was evident he was an experienced swimmer, for he made a splendid dive. He sprang as far from the scow as he could, and went down in a slanting direction from it. He stayed under a long time,—so long, indeed, that the other boys began to get a little troubled.
“I don’t care much for Emily,” said Chap, “but I should hate to have him stick fast in the mud and be drowned.”
When the French boy came up he was more than forty feet from the scow, and he puffed at a great rate as he swam to its side.
“Now, zen,” said he, “we haf all had enough of ze dive. Zis is one horrid river. You stick fast some day, and never come up, if you don’t take care.”
No one seemed inclined to differ from this opinion; but Phœnix now appeared on the side of the scow, ready for another dive.
“Don’t you do zat!” cried Emile. “It is but vile folly to swim here. Don’t I tell you you be drowned?”
“All right!” said Phœnix; and in he went.
Like Emile, he sprang far from the scow, and went down in a slanting direction. He did not stay down as long as the French boy, and he came up much nearer the scow.
“Now, zen,” said Emile, as Phœnix clambered on board, “I hope you is satisfied.”
“Enough for to-day,” said Phœnix.