Packages of food were made ready to be taken along, and also a keg of fresh water. The water supply troubled them, as the spring was now covered by the flood, and all they had was some which they had stored for just that emergency.
“We’ll take along the tents,” said Mr. Ringold. “They’ll come in useful, as shelter on the raft.”
“And we’ll have to take to the raft in the morning, I think,” Mr. Piper said. “At the rate the river is rising, we won’t have ground under our feet much longer than that.”
Gloomy, uncertain and miserable was that night. The campfire, which had hitherto been kept up, not without a great deal of work, went out in the rain, and, save for a few lanterns, there was no light. Naturally there was no heat, and cold victuals were the portion of the refugees.
Still no one complained, even C. C. maintaining a brave front in the face of danger and privation. Everything possible was made ready for embarking on the raft in the morning. After that——
No one knew what would happen.
“I suppose we’ll have to abandon everything,” said Birdie Lee, talking to Joe and Blake, after “supper,” if so the meal could be designated.
“Well, I’m going to stick to the films and the camera to the last!” exclaimed Blake.
“That’s what!” cried Joe. “We may get to some place where we’ll be able to get a few more pictures.”
The night passed slowly and miserably. At the first streak of dawn Blake was astir, ready to help take down the tents and load the raft.