Chapter Thirty One.
A Forest Feud.
The little party sat there waiting patiently for the next event, their eyes being mostly directed across the waste of water toward the well-marked course of the stream, with its rush, swirl and eddy; and before long there was another heaving up, as if a liquid bank descended the river, spread across the opening, and directly after struck the tree with a blow which made it quiver from root to summit.
“Will it hold fast, Naylor?” said Brazier, rather excitedly.
“Hope so, sir. I think it’s safe, but it’s growing in such soft soil, all river mud, sand, and rotten wood, that the roots are loose, and it feels as if it would give way at last. I daresay this was a bend of the river once.”
“But if it does give way, what are we to do?” cried Rob excitedly.
“Swim for the next tree, sir.”
“But that has a great snake in it.”
“Can’t help that, Mr Rob. Rather have a snake for a mate than be drowned. He’s too much frightened to meddle with us. Look out, every one, and try to keep clear of the boughs, so as not to be beaten under.”