On reaching the mouth of the little stream the bows of the canoes were run ashore, so that they would not float away, and the boys, hastily undressing, sprang into the water. They had a delightful bath, and it was not until they began to feel chilly that they thought of coming out and dressing. Tom was the first to go ashore, and as he was wading out of the water, he suddenly felt himself sinking in the sand. Harry and Joe attempted to land a few yards from the place where Tom was trying to drag his feet out of the clinging sand, and they too found themselves in the same difficulty. Harry at once perceived what was the matter, and, making frantic efforts to get to the shore, cried out to his comrades that they were caught in a quicksand.
The struggles made by the three boys were all in vain. When they tried to lift one foot out of the sand, the other foot would sink still deeper. It was impossible for them to throw themselves at full length on the quicksand, for there were nearly two feet of water over it, and they were not close enough together to give one another any assistance. By the time Charley fully understood the peril they were in, Tom had sunk above his knees in the sand, and Joe and Harry, finding that they could not extricate themselves, were waiting with white faces and trembling lips for Charley to come to their help.
Charley knew perfectly well that if he ventured too near the other boys, he would himself be caught in the quicksand, and there would be no hope that any of them could escape. Keeping his presence of mind, he swam to the stern of one of the canoes, set it afloat, and pushed it toward Tom, so that the latter could get hold of its bow. He then brought two other canoes to the help of Joe and Harry; and when each of the three unfortunate canoeists was thus furnished with something to cling to, he climbed into his own canoe.
"What are we to do now?" asked Harry.
"Just hold on to your canoes until I can tow them out into the stream. You can't sink while you hang on to them."
"Won't the canoes sink with us?" asked Tom.
"Not a bit of it. You wouldn't sink yourselves if you could lie down flat on the quicksand. I was caught in a quicksand once, and that's the way I saved myself."
"I hope it's all right," exclaimed Joe; "but it seems to me that you'll have to get a derrick to hoist me out. But I'm not complaining. I can hang on to my canoe all day, only I don't want to be drowned and buried both at the same time."
Charley, meanwhile, was busily making his canoe fast to Tom's canoe with his painter. When this was done, he paddled away from the shore with all his might, while Tom tried to lift himself out of the quicksand by throwing the weight of his body on the canoe. Slowly Tom and his canoe yielded to the vigorous strokes of Charley's paddle, and were towed out into deep water. By the same means Joe and Harry were rescued, and then the entire fleet—Charley paddling, and the others swimming and pushing their canoes—floated a short distance down stream, and finally landed where the sand was firm and hard.
"What should we have done if you'd got into the quicksand, as we did?" said Harry to Charley, as they were dressing.