There were lots of interesting things to do after the storm. The violence of the wind had driven the raft several hundred yards to the west and it had to be towed back to where it belonged. Before they could get to the raft they had to bale out the boat. It was so full of water that it was almost sunk where it lay at the pier. An awning had come loose and Billy climbed up on a stepladder and tacked it back into place. The big branch that had blown off the poplar tree lay there in the yard like a fallen giant. They sat on the smaller branches and sprang up and down like on a diving board.
“Let’s pretend we’re Swiss Family Robinson,” said Jane, “and sail off on our raft.”
“That’s a corking good idea,” said Bill. “I’ll be the father and you be the mother and Davey can be our child.”
“I’ll go and get some lunch,” said Davey, always practical. He was back in no time at all with a brown paper bag full of cookies, and in the other arm he carried the shoe box cradle. “James said we could take the rabbits along,” he said joyfully, “only we shouldn’t drown ’em.”
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Bill. “Let’s rig up a sail and go out and rescue the big raft with this little raft.” They found a piece of wash line to use for a tow rope and they rigged a sail with an old square of canvas that they found in the garage. They had trouble with the mast. It wasn’t fastened securely and it flopped this way and that with the weight of the canvas. Finally, with much pushing and pulling and grunting it was made secure.
The surface of the lake was calm, but there was just enough rise and fall to keep the planks awash, so they sat on cracker boxes to keep dry. “We’d better take some oars with us,” Janie said, “so that we can paddle home in case the wind fails us.” “Good idea,” said Bill, and a pair of oars were lashed down to the plank floor.
At last they were ready to start. Davey and Jane sat on the cracker box before the mast. Davey held the rabbits on his lap. Billy sat on the cracker box behind the mast with the paper bag of cookies and the coiled tow rope beside him. He manipulated the sail by pulling guide ropes one way or the other. They waved good-by to the folks on the porch as if they were leaving on an ocean cruise and then they poled their way out of the shallow water in their front yard, into Mrs. Saunders’ front yard, and then out into the open waters of the lake.
There was just enough air moving to catch the sail and they drifted along slowly in the direction of the big raft. The lake was shallow here. The ripples washed over the toes of their rubber boots and Billy sang:
“A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,