CHAPTER XII.

HEARTS COURAGEOUS.

It was a time of terrible suspense as the boat tilted so far on one side that one or two of the boys slipped, and fell, as though they were straddling a bobsled, and on a steep down grade.

Higher still reared the one side of the cabin, until it seemed as though the hearts of some of the boys were in their throats.

"Get on the other side, everybody, quick!" Thad was shouting now, and the sound of his clarion voice thrilled them as nothing else could have done.

It was not so easy to obey, such was the dreadful slope to the floor of the cabin; but Giraffe gave a helpful hand to struggling Bumpus, and on the other side Allan fastened a good grip on the stout one, so that between them both he was speedily landed where he would do the most good.

Immediately the effect of this change of base began to make itself felt, for instead of continuing to rear up, that side of the boat settled slowly back.

"She's slipping, and turning around!" cried Giraffe; "we're going to get off the old turtle-back rock, don't you forget it! Whoop!"

As he gave that last yell the shanty boat did indeed settle on an even keel, and once more there was a buoyancy and motion to her. This told even Bumpus, who was not supposed to know a great deal about boats, that they were free from all entangling alliances, and once more racing madly down the river at the mercy of the flood.

Such was the hysterical excitement under which all were laboring that regardless of what might still be awaiting them in the near future the boys began to yell, in order to relieve their pent-up feelings.

They soon stopped that sort of thing, however, when their first exultation had passed, for, as Bumpus remarked, "it was just to begin over again, and perhaps get upset after all."

"Better keep that till we're safe ashore," Giraffe went on to remark. "You know the old saying in pioneer days used to be that an Indian never ought to yell till he was in the woods; and a white man till he was out of the woods. So we'll keep our breath a while. It's all going to come out right, see if it ain't."

Giraffe undoubtedly added these concluding reassuring words for the particular benefit of Bumpus, who was looking, as the tall scout privately informed Step Hen back of his hand, "just as limp as a dish rag, so to speak."

"I hope so, Giraffe; I surely hope so," the fat scout told him. "Why, I believe I could face being burned up in a forest fire better than being drowned. It's always been an awful idea to me to float along on the water, and have the little fishes and turtles nibbling at you all the while. Thank you for saying we've still got a fighting chance, Giraffe. It was kind of you, and I won't forget it, either."

When Giraffe looked up he saw Thad nodding his head toward him, and he knew the explanation of the encouraging smile on the patrol leader's face. It meant that Thad understood why he had taken the trouble to say what he did, and wished to encourage all such efforts to the limit, as being worthy of the best traditions of scoutcraft.

"Giraffe, will you do me a favor?" asked Davy, after another period of alternate hope and fear had passed by.

"To be sure I will, Davy, if it's in my power; only I hope you won't ask me to jump overboard, and try to tow the old tub ashore, or anything like that."

"Just take a look at my head, please," suggested the other, bending forward as he spoke.

"Well, I don't see that it's swelled any since the last time," remarked Giraffe; "and, besides, strikes me you haven't been doing any great stunts lately that'd be apt to make you have the big head. Whatever do you want me to do, Davy?"

"Tell me if it's changed white," replied the other pleadingly, "because I reckon the scares we've had thrown into us this last half hour have sure been enough to turn any poor fellow's hair. Will they know me at home, if I'm ever lucky enough to get back there again; or can I expect to have the door shut in my face, and our old dog Tige chase me over the back fence?"

"Oh! you haven't changed much," Giraffe assured him, "except that there's an anxious look stamped on your face like it'd never come off again. I'm surprised at you, Davy; why don't you grin and bear it like I do? This is only going to be another of our _experiences_, and before long you'll look back at it, and laugh at the whole business. Whee! there she rises again, fellows. Everybody _climb_!"

They were becoming quite expert now with regard to executing what Giraffe called a "flank movement;" for even Bumpus was able to scramble up the sloping floor before anyone could take hold of his arms.

Again they felt more or less concerned while the boat hung in a state of uncertainty, as though undecided whether to keep on turning until the upset came, or slide off again into deep water.

When the latter came to pass all of them breathed easy again.

"And to think," said Smithy, taking a full breath, "this sort of thing has got to continue for hours, before morning comes. Why, we'll be out of our minds, I'm afraid."

"We're lucky to have any minds at all, to go out of," Giraffe told him. "Some fellows would be that way to start with--present company always excepted, you know."

Giraffe was one of those kind of boys who would have his little fling at a joke, no matter what sort of a scrape he might be in. Such a buoyant nature helped to keep the spirits of his comrades up, and so far it was useful, at least.

"What time is it, anyway?" demanded Step Hen. "Seems to me we've been banging around like this for a whole week or so."

"Five o'clock!" announced Allan.

"We ought to have daylight at seven, even on such a bad morning," remarked Thad, "which would mean about two more hours of it before we can make any sort of a move to get ashore."

"Two whole hours!" sighed Bumpus, looking as though he feared he would be mashed into a mere pulp by that time.

"Let's try and forget our troubles," remarked Giraffe; "suppose, now, Bumpus here could start one of his jolly songs, and we'd all come in heavy on the chorus. That'd be something worth while remembering in future days, when we wanted folks to know how scouts could face trouble bravely."

"Ugh!" cried Bumpus, starting up, "that makes me think of stories I've read how the British crew on the battleship _Campertown_ lined up as she was sinking, and with the band playing went down in the ocean. Do you really think that's what's going to happen to us here, Giraffe; and is it a funeral dirge you want me to start?"

"Not a bit of it, but the liveliest song you know, old fellow; so get busy, and it'll make us feel better all around," the tall scout assured him.

Bumpus swallowed hard several times, as though not at all sure about his voice, and then he started in. At first there was a decided tremolo noticeable, but as he went on he gained assurance, and presently was doing nobly. When the proper time came for the chorus every one of them joined in, so that the volume of sound must have arisen well above the noise of the rushing waters and the wild blasts of the wind through the leafless trees ashore.

Had anyone by chance been within hearing distance and caught the clamor of boyish voices that swelled forth from the cabin of that shanty boat, drifting down on the bosom of the mighty flood, they might well have been pardoned if they found themselves wondering whether some asylum had yielded up its inmates, the whole thing appeared so remarkable.

Giraffe was right, and Thad, knowing it, had not attempted to raise a hand to prevent the carrying out of the singular compact. That song cheered them up wonderfully indeed; by the time it was ended even Bumpus felt quite sanguine that they were bound to pass through the fresh trial unscathed. He was ready to carry on the good work as long as his voice held out.

So he started a second school song that was familiar to them, and being in better practice now, they all did more justice to the theme.

It was interrupted by the surging boat striking a rock, so that the sudden jar tumbled them in a heap; but upon scrambling to their feet once more the singing was taken up again as though nothing had happened.

Thad was wondering whether any damage could have been done when that last hard knock came against the timbers of the boat. He did not know what they could stand in the way of resistance. They might be old, and weather-beaten, ready to yield if harshly treated.

And so, as his comrades sang on at a vociferous rate, Thad was trying to discover whether there were any signs of the boat foundering, which was apt to happen in case of a puncture below the water line.

Of course he could not make absolutely sure, but so far as he was able to tell there did not seem to be anything wrong; the boat floated as buoyantly as before the collision.

When all of the boys found themselves getting more or less hoarse from their strained singing they stopped; but Bumpus by this time felt so heartened that his next move was to clutch his beloved bugle, and proceed to run the gamut of everything he knew, from military calls to "'Way Down on the Suwanee River," "Old Black Joe," and a dozen other melodies that he could execute with considerable feeling and sweetness on the silver-tongued instrument.

In this fashion possibly another half hour passed. When Smithy asked for the time, and they heard Allan say there was still a terribly long spell ahead of them, the scouts were at a loss to know just what to do in order to forget their troubles, and make the minutes seem to pass quickly.

They were spared the necessity of inventing some way, for just then there came one of those sudden halts in the forward progress of the drifting shanty boat.

"Another snag!" shouted Giraffe, as though the frequency of these mishaps was beginning to take their terror away.

"But notice that this time we don't seem to tilt over to one side; and it feels firmer, too!" Step Hen wanted them to understand.

"Then chances are we're stuck here for a while, till the river rises, and sets us free!" commented Davy.

Allan and Thad exchanged significant looks.

"Do you think there's anything in that, Thad, or can it be land?" asked the former, as he saw his chum start for the door, which was partly open at the time.

"The rain seems to have let up some, anyway!" proclaimed Smithy, as though he did not want them to think he was behind the rest in noticing things worth while.

When the two scouts reached the door and thrust their heads out, they saw the same old gloom there, "thick enough to cut with a knife," as Giraffe would have said. But Thad discovered something more.

"Look up against the sky, Allan!" he cried joyously.

"Trees, as sure as you live!" shouted the other, almost immediately.

"What's that you say?" roared Giraffe, pushing alongside; "trees, is it, and us out in the middle of the flooded Susquehanna? How's that come, Thad? Is this an old island we've bumped against?"

"I calculate that's just what it is, Giraffe," was the reply of the patrol leader; and at hearing this astonishing as well as pleasing news the rest of the inmates of the cabin broke out into a shout that under ordinary conditions might have been heard a full mile away.

"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah, and a tiger!" was what Giraffe called for and the cheers were given with a vim that took their breath away.