"There is no use in waiting here any longer," he said to Nugget. "The boys may have been carried far down the creek, and are probably looking for us at this minute."
"You think they are safe then?" asked Nugget.
"I hope so," replied Clay dubiously. "We'll know to a certainty before long. Hand me your knife till I cut the ropes. I tied them in a knot."
"Here you are."
An instant later the canoes drifted off the island, and plunged into the swirling flood. Their heavy loads caused them to sink almost to the gunwales, and this the boys noted with serious alarm.
"We must keep along shore," said Clay. "If we upset then the danger won't be so great."
With extreme caution the boys paddled diagonally to the left bank, where they found the current considerably less rapid. They were drifting along side by side when a man suddenly appeared from behind a tree a few yards ahead, and beckoned them anxiously with his finger.
"Come in here a minute, you fellows," he whispered hoarsely, when the canoes were close to him.
The boys ceased paddling, but hesitated to obey.
"I don't mean any harm," added the man. "It's for your own good."