"We're gaining, Bob! Keep paddling like mad, and we shall make it. Already he hesitates, and dares not try! A strong pull, a long pull, and a pull all together now. Hurrah! who cares?"
It was hard to quench that lad's spirit. And somehow, even in such a moment of alarm, his buoyant courage did much to renew Bob's sinking hopes.
By increasing their pace, already incredibly swift, down the stream, they had managed to leave the panther and his tree-top in the lurch. There was no longer anything to be feared from that source.
"Are we making any progress at all?" asked Sandy, who was pretty well exhausted from his exertions.
"In one direction, yes; but toward the home shore I'm afraid not at all," was Bob's frank reply.
"But what shall we do?" cried the younger boy, in rapidly growing alarm; for by now the situation was beginning to impress even his buoyant nature. "We can never keep on like this all day, for the river grows constantly wider, and the flood stronger. Besides, Bob, I'm afraid the canoe is beginning to leak!"
Now, Bob had known that terrible fact for some little time, but hesitated to tell his brother, feeling sure that nothing they could do would mend matters.
"I have been thinking, Sandy; and there seems only one chance for us now," he said, trying to look ahead down the river.
"Oh! I hope you don't mean that we will have to swim for it!" cried the other, aghast at the idea of finding himself buffeting the flood, with either shore far away.
"No, I hope that may not come—yet a while, at least. But I was thinking of the island!" said Bob.