"Can you swim?" asked Macro abruptly at last.
"I can. But I feel very weak. I can't go far I'm afraid."
"We can't stop on here."
"Where shall we go?"
"Over yonder. They're thickest there and they stand out more. Mebbe it's shallower that way."
"I'll do my best to follow you. If I can't, you go on."
"Nay. You gave me a hand last night. We'll stick together, and sooner we start the better.... Stay ... mebbe we can——" and he began pounding at the end planks of their raft with his foot to start them from the cross-pieces.
"'Twas the roof of the galley," he explained, "and none too well made. It got stove in last voyage and we rigged this one up ourselves. My wonder is it held together in the night."
He managed at last with much stamping to loosen four boards.
"One under each arm will help," he said, "An' we can paddle along an' not get tired."