"Well, the boat contains a lot of wood, and it will float for some time—especially this cockpit part," said Betty. "Then, too, some one is sure to see us when we get down a little further. Or the boys will miss the ice boat, and, knowing that we have it out, they'll hunt for us. Especially when they see the ice breaking up."
They were slowly floating down stream—slowly because of the number of large and small cakes their own encountered. After the first alarm the girls felt more at ease, especially Amy and Grace, for, in a large measure, they had come to depend on Betty and Mollie. And these two justified the confidence reposed in them.
Eagerly they all scanned the shore of the river, but they saw no one.
"I'd even be glad to see some of the Jallows!" exclaimed Grace, after a bit. "They couldn't refuse to rescue us. Oh, I do hope papa will have no further trouble with that man! If we could only help him to straighten out the tangle!"
"We'll have to straighten out our own first," said Mollie, with a tense smile. "Do you think we are getting nearer shore, Betty?"
Betty was about to reply, when, with a sharp report, a large piece broke off their cake of ice. This left one of the runners on the forward cross-piece close to the lapping water.
"Oh dear!" cried Amy. "If this keeps up——"
"Isn't that a man over there?" suddenly cried Betty, pointing toward shore. "Yes, girls, it is. A man! Oh, shout to him! Call for help!"
The next instant there went echoing over the expanse of ice-strewn water four young voices, uniting in a call for aid.
Fortunately the wind was right, and the man heard. He had been walking along the river shore, and now, looking up and across, he saw the girls in the ice boat in their perilous position. It needed but an instant for him to sense the situation, and he acted promptly.