"But was it in a condition for use?"
That was the important question.
Rupert bent down and examined it critically. The boards were still pretty firm, though water-soaked, and seemed to be securely fastened together. The rope that fastened it to the small sapling on the bank was quite rotten, and it was a wonder that it had not parted.
Rupert pulled on it to see how secure it was, and it broke. This, however, was of little consequence. He selected a long stick to serve as an oar, and getting on the raft, pushed out into the stream.
The stick, however, made a very poor substitute for an oar. Still he found that it was of some use.
But just as he was starting he discovered, almost covered with underbrush, the paddle which had probably been used by the parties who had constructed and used the raft. This worked tolerably well, and he was glad to have found it.
At last he was ready, and started on his journey. He found his progress slow, and his task toilsome. Still he was making progress, and that was encouraging.
How rapid this progress he could only conjecture. It might be two miles an hour; probably it was not more than that, and he was obliged to confess with a sinking of the heart that it would take a very long time at this rate before he would get back.
He had tugged away possibly three hours, when his strength began to give out. He began to feel faint and hungry, especially as his breakfast had not been very satisfying.
Then, for the first time, with a sinking heart, he realized that he had made a serious blunder. What few provisions were left after breakfast he had left behind him, and he was absolutely without a mouthful to eat.