For reply Sandy held up the stump of his paddle. It had broken off clean, and, from that time on, only one could paddle at a time. This catastrophe was sure to delay their passage, and doubtless cause them to be swept some miles down-stream before they could land; but the boys were hardy, and would not mind walking back, though doubtless Sandy might complain a little on account of his lame leg.
Bob set to work again with a good will, and was making fair progress when yet another peril came booming along, this time in the shape of a heavy log that was sweeping with the speeding current.
Bob saw the danger and strove the best he could to avoid it; but, in the clutch of the current, the little dugout seemed but a plaything, and the log, driving three times as fast as they were going, bore straight down upon them. When Bob saw that a collision was unavoidable, he called at the top of his voice to his brother:
“It’s going to strike us, Sandy. Hold on to your gun if you can, and climb aboard the log as they come together; for I fear that the boat will sink. Quick! jump now!”
CHAPTER IV
AT THE MERCY OF THE FLOOD
In that moment of alarm Sandy forgot all about his lame ankle. He realized, as soon as the crash came, that the dugout was about to sink, for water began to pour in over the side. So he obeyed the cry of his brother, and made a spring for the safety of the log that had done the damage.
“MADE A SPRING FOR THE SAFETY OF THE LOG THAT HAD DONE THE DAMAGE.”