"No use!" exclaimed Gist. "We must quit the concern and make for that island."
"Yes; and that immediately, if we would save ourselves," responded Washington, as he leaped into the water, followed by Gist. The island was but a few rods distant, and they reached it just at night, with the gloomy prospect of remaining shelterless upon it until the next morning.
"Not much better off here than we were in the water," suggested Gist. "My fingers are frozen, and some of my toes; and what is to prevent the freezing of the remainder of my body?"
"If we perish, we will perish trying to keep alive," remarked Washington. "We have plenty of room to exercise ourselves here, and keep up a circulation, with no fear of being shot at by savages. It will not do to sleep in this predicament."
"It will be our last sleep if we do," answered Gist. "The cold is rapidly increasing, and I hardly see how any amount of exercise can save us."
"Be a little more hopeful, Gist. I have faith to believe that we shall be saved yet," said Washington. "This increasing cold is providential, I think. It will freeze the river before morning, and thus provide a way for us to escape from this island."
"Well, that is a hopeful view, I confess," replied Gist; "but how the biting cold can freeze the river without freezing us is incomprehensible to me."
They made a remarkable night of it, and saved their lives by muscular exertion. They dashed about in the cold, gathering hope and courage from hour to hour as the water of the stream congealed harder and harder. In the morning they crossed the river on the ice, truly thankful to a kind Providence, which had delivered them from what, to human view, was inevitable death.
Once upon the other side of the river, they made their way as speedily as possible to the house of Mr. Frazier, a few miles distant, where they regaled themselves with fire and food to their hearts' content, recounting their adventures, and causing all to wonder that they were still among the living.