Finally Jessie saw ahead, and very close to them, the decayed float beside the dock at Dogtown, with the several unpainted shacks behind it that made up the village. The cluster of houses seemed to be shooting right toward them.
“Cut it! Cut it! If I could only cut it!” shouted Amy in despair.
“You might as well talk about biting it off,” her chum declared, with considerable disdain.
But Amy did not hear this. And there was little time to do anything or hear anything or say anything. Another fierce puff of wind—a veritable squall—swooped down upon the canoe!
Amy shrieked again. Even Jessie lost what little courage remained to her. Driven by the blast, the canoe shot head on into the old float. There was a terrific crash!
CHAPTER VIII
MONTMORENCY SHANNON
A great wave of the backwash as they struck the float came inboard and wet both girls to their waists. Amy was now crying hysterically, and Jessie could do nothing to any better use.
The canoe was strongly built for a canoe, but such a collision as this was bound to do it much damage, if it did not completely wreck it. It really was wonderful, as Amy afterward said, that the craft was not overturned and the girls thrown into the water.
But providentially the nose of the craft hit a slanting plank of the old float and shot right up out of the water. It saved the canoe from being utterly smashed; but as the bow went up on the float while the stern sank in the water, the girls were thrown screaming together in the submerged end of the canoe.
“Oh! O-ooh! Jess! I’m d-d-d-drowning!” sputtered Amy Drew.