“Makin’ soap-suds, Ah reckon,” giggled Jim.
“Making what?” demanded George, surprised.
“Wall, she’s went fer a drink an’ ef dat sody sticks to her tongue she’ll have suds all inside her mouf, won’t she?” said Jim.
Martha’s appearance quieted any fears for her safety, however, and soon after all were running to the creek with their burdens of boxes and broomstick guns.
The raft was heavy and hard to move, but finally all hands heaved and tugged and moved it inch by inch nearer the water. The bank of the stream was about three feet above the surface of the water, so when the raft was half over the bank they expected to see it plunge headlong in with a splash, but it stuck on the jagged trunk of a tree, and the children tried in vain to dislodge it.
Then Jack had an inspiration.
“We’ll use the broomsticks and pry her off!”
“Fine idea! Here, John, you stand there and pry under her with this stick. Jim can stand there just opposite you, while Jack and I, being strongest, will pry and shove from the back to shove her over,” said George.
Obediently, John took his place and Jim stood on a flat stone opposite, but on the lower side of the raft. When the signal was given by Martha, all four shoved and worked together and the raft moved an inch more nearer the water.
“Fine! Now, boys, once more!” shouted Jack.