Every now and then Phil would call to Irv and Constant in the skiff ahead, to pull with all their might to the right or left, and many times the flatboat, in spite of this diligence, had narrow escapes from disaster.
It was terribly hard work, and the mental strain of it which fell upon Phil was worse even than the tremendous physical exertion put forth by the other boys. There was no midday meal served that day, for it would have meant destruction for any one of the boys to leave his post of duty long enough even to prepare the simplest food.
About four o’clock in the afternoon Phil suddenly called to Irv:—
“Carry your line around a tree and check speed all you can!” Then turning to Will:—
“Jump into a skiff, Will, and take out another line, just as you did yesterday. When the boat stops, make fast!”
The boys obeyed promptly, and a few minutes later The Last of the Flatboats was securely tied to two great trees—one in front and one astern.
Then Phil threw himself down on the deck and closed his eyes as if in sleep, and the boys in the skiffs came back on board.
The captain was manifestly exhausted. The strain of watching and directing the course of the boat through so many hours and under circumstances so difficult, the still greater strain put upon his mind by his consciousness that he alone was responsible for the safety of boat and crew and cargo, and finally the sudden relief caused by a glimpse ahead which his comrades had been too busy to share, had brought on something very like collapse.
The boys said nothing, lest they disturb him. He lay still for a quarter of an hour perhaps. Then he got up, stripped off his clothing, and leaped overboard.