"Land! land!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, just as a shipwrecked sailor on a floating raft might cry as an island hove in sight.
And Thad could easily see the tree-tops again, outlined against the gray heavens; yes, they were closer than for some time, and to his excited imagination seemed to be even looming up more and more positively.
"We're getting there, old chap; give her another good dig, and follow it up with yet another!" he managed to cry.
"Hurrah! that's the way to do it! Again, my hearty, and all together with a will! She moves in, Thad; we're going to make the ripple!"
"Wait!" said the more cautious Thad; "don't shout till you're out of the woods."
But nevertheless he too seemed to feel that more than half the battle was won, since they had passed over a wide bayou without any accident, and were now once again close to the land.
How eagerly their young eyes hung upon those shifting tree-tops, as they hurried by; never before had the dry land seemed quite so glorious as at that particular moment; and they felt that it would be a happy event if they could but plant their feet again on it.
Maurice knew something of the river, but Thad had studied the oddities of the Ohio for many a moon, while living upon its breast.
He knew, for instance, that when a bayou was struck the chances were there would be a point of land jutting out immediately below it, formed by the dirt swept out by the erratic current.
And this was just what he was hoping to find now.