This took up some time, and he had the gratification of seeing that the water had come up a few feet farther. He now tried once more to force the boat down, using his piece of board as a lever; but the board bent, and almost broke, without moving the boat. He stood for a moment waiting, and suddenly thought of the pole which he had left up in the woods. He determined to get this, and perhaps, with its help, he would be able to accomplish his wishes. So off he started at a run, and in a few minutes reached the place. Hurrying back again, he inserted one end of the pole under the bow, and exerted all his force to press the boat downward into the water. At first it did not move; but shortly after, when the water had risen still higher, he made a new effort. This time he succeeded; the boat moved slightly.
Again.
The boat moved farther.
Once more.
Still farther.
And now he made a final trial. Thrusting the pole again underneath, he exerted all his force for the last time, and pushed the boat down for about a yard.
It was at last afloat.
The tide had not yet fully attained its height, but was close to it. The wind was blowing from the north, as before, and quite moderately. The sea sparkled and glittered in the rays of the sun. The little wavelets tossed their heads on high, and danced far away ever the sea. The air was bright, and stimulating, and exhilarating. All the scene filled Tom's heart with gladness; and the approach of his deliverance deepened and intensified this feeling.