“Come here, Trip. Poor fellow. Come here, sir,” said he, whistling, and patting his knees, to entice the dog to him.
Pushing the raft up a little distance upon the shore, he stepped on the beach to catch the dog. As he did so, the raft, lightened by the removal of his weight, slid off and went to sea again “on its own hook.”
As the loss of his vessel seemed to be a greater misfortune than the loss of the dog, he turned from the latter to recover the former.
The raft floated out about a rod from the shore, and began to go down stream. The water was quite shallow, and Robert waded in till he got hold of the truant craft; but in attempting to jump upon the platform, he slipped, and went all over into the water.
His courage was good, however, and he managed to pick himself up, and climb upon the raft. The ducking did him no harm; but the day was cool, and his wet clothes did not add to his comfort.
Pulling to the shore again, he fastened the raft to a tree with a rope he had brought for the purpose. Taking off all his clothes, he wrung them as dry as he could, and put them on again.
“Now, come here, Trip,” said he to the dog, which had been watching all his movements. “Now we will try again. You needn’t try to sneak off, for you are going with me to the island, any how.”
After some coaxing he got near enough to Trip to seize hold of his collar, to which he tied the rope that fastened the raft.
“I didn’t think you would be so mean as to run away and leave me, as pussy did,” said Robert, as he dragged Trip upon the raft once more. “But you shall go with me on the voyage, whether you like it or not.”
Having secured his prisoner, he pushed off again, and the raft floated slowly down the river. He passed the Rapids in safety, though the raft got two or three pretty hard knocks upon the rocks.