As they neared the middle of the river the water began to shoal rapidly.
“This is the shallow place Pat was talking about, anyhow,” Bob declared, “I guess your peavey’ll reach now, Rex,” he added, and Rex sprang to his feet eager to do his part.
It seemed to him almost like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack to try to find a pile of rocks out there in the darkness, but he had learned to have great confidence in his friends’ ability to accomplish things and he had no doubt but that the “needle” would be found sooner or later.
For some time they pushed the craft about, this way and that without success. It was, as Jack declared, the hardest kind of hard work, and before long all three, and especially Rex, were nearly at the limit of their strength.
“Throw over the drag and we’ll rest awhile,” Bob panted.
At one end of the scow was a heavy rock to which was attached a rope, and Jack, who was standing at that end, was quick to obey the order. The boat swung around and, for a moment drifted slowly down stream.
“Don’t believe she’ll hold,” Jack said. But, even as he spoke, the rock caught and the drifting stopped.
“Whew!” Bob puffed as he sank down on one of the cross boards. “I wouldn’t want to keep that up for more than three or four hours at a stretch.”
“Make it minutes and you’ll be right where I live,” Rex laughed as he followed suit.
“Let me know when you children get rested and we’ll begin again,” Jack jeered as he too sat down at the end of the scow.