“He sees us! He’s coming!” cried Blake, joyfully.
“And just about in time, too,” added Joe, for the water was creeping higher and higher.
With loud blasts of the whistle the pilot indicated that he had seen the signals of distress, and was coming to the rescue. In quick time a small boat was lowered, and a few minutes later the refugees were safe on board the steamer, which proved to be a government boat, sent out to aid in the rescue work.
“And we’ve saved our films and cameras, too!” cried Joe, for the moving picture apparatus, as well as some of the personal effects of the stranded ones, had been brought away from the summit of the island, which alone was out of water, now.
“Yes, and if we get a chance we’ll use up the rest of the undeveloped film, and get more flood pictures,” added Blake.
“We’ll leave you at the first large town,” said the captain. “I guess the flood is at its height now. It won’t get much higher, and there isn’t much use in me going farther up the river until I take care of the passengers I’ve already picked up.”
Accordingly he turned back, and that afternoon our friends and several others were taken ashore. The place where they were landed was within a few miles of a good-sized town, and they found quarters there, being well looked after by the hospitable inhabitants.
“Well, we’re safe, anyhow,” murmured Blake.
“Yes, and no more Mississippi life for me—especially in a flood,” added Joe. “I’ve had all I want.”
But the boys were not quite done with the flood. There were two or three more days of high water, and in that time they managed to get some wonderful pictures, going out in a hired boat. Then, having no more undeveloped film, they packed up their cameras, and waited for the waters to subside.