“She’s too far away to hail,” Madge decided. “Unless I catch her as she returns to the island, I’ll have made my trip for nothing.”
After a brief mental debate, she again snatched up the oars, rowing steadily toward a rocky point on the south shore. It had occurred to her that while she awaited Anne’s return she could busy herself resetting her uncle’s minnow trap.
She crossed the lake and located the wire trap which had floated a short distance from its usual place. After baiting it with some bread which her uncle kept in a box under the boat seat, she anchored the trap in shallow water near the rocks.
Glancing up from her work, she was startled to see how dark it had grown. Dark clouds were rolling up fast.
“We’re in for a real storm,” she told herself uneasily. “I didn’t think it would come up so quickly. Guess I’d better not wait for Anne. Unless I strike for home, I’ll be caught in it.”
A low, ominous roll of thunder warned her that she must act quickly if she wished to reach the mainland ahead of the rain. She turned the boat, and began rowing with all her strength. The breeze had quickened noticeably. As she passed beyond the lee of the point, waves struck the bow of the skiff with great force.
“Uncle George was wise to make me take the boat,” she told herself grimly. “I’d hate to be out in a canoe in these waves.”
She thought of Anne and glanced anxiously toward the far landing. The red canoe had turned back toward Stewart Island. Apparently, Anne realized the danger and she too was trying to race the storm. Her paddle slashed into the water with vicious force, but she made slow progress.
It was only a matter of minutes now until the storm would break. Madge cringed as a vivid flash of lightning zigzagged across the sky to illuminate an ugly mass of dark clouds. She was more afraid for Anne than for herself. She knew that the skiff would carry her safely ashore but the Fairaday girl was far from expert in handling her canoe and when the wind strengthened, she could easily be thrown crosswise to a wave and upset.
Each pull of the oars carried Madge nearer the girl. Already she could see that Anne was in grave danger. The waves were buffeting the canoe about like a log in a whirlpool.