“It wasn’t your fault, Phil,” said the Guardian gently. “It wasn’t a very hard bump. The canoe is a very tippy one.”
“That’s right!” gasped Blake.
It seemed an age ere Jack came shooting up out of the water. With a shake of his head he cleared his eyes and mouth, and cried:
“I saw her—on the—bottom!” he gasped. “But—she was too far over. I’ll dive again. I can get her—stay here!” he called to Phil, and Blake, who seemed about to leap overboard.
Filling his lungs with air, Jack again dived. They could watch him by the commotion in the water, and when he presently appeared, bearing the unconscious form of Natalie to the surface, Phil gave a spasmodic yell, the others joining in.
“Get her into your boat, Phil—it’s larger,” commanded Mrs. Bonnell. “Then row to shore as fast as you can. We’ll have to practice first aid work, just as we did in class, girls,” she added, for the Camp Fire rules called for a girl knowing how to resuscitate an apparently drowned person.
It did not take long to get Natalie into the boat, and then with feverishly rapid strokes Phil rowed to shore, the others following.
“Make a little pillow of your coats, boys,” commanded Mrs. Bonnell. “We’ll place that under her, as she lies face down. That will help to drain the water out of her lungs.”
The inert form of Natalie was rolled over, until some water did come from her lips. Then, directing the efforts of Jack and Phil, Mrs. Bonnell had them raise the girl’s arms above her head, while she pressed on the diaphragm to facilitate the getting of air into the lungs.
Natalie had only been a short time in the water, and, as it developed later, her head had struck on the gunwale of the canoe, rendering her unconscious, so that she had swallowed only a little water. The blow, in a measure, was lucky for her, since it made her rescue easier. She had not struggled in Jack’s grip.