CHAPTER XIII.

THE ISLAND OF HOPE.

"Give me the solid ground every time," Bumpus burst out with; and from the broad grin on his face, no longer pallid, it was easy to see that he meant what he said.

"You need it!" Step Hen told him dryly, which of course was a little thrust at the heft of the stout scout.

"When do we expect to go ashore, Thad, may I ask?" Smithy wanted to know.

"The rain is stopping, as sure as anything, and that's one comfort," declared Davy, knowing the aversion felt by the particular member of the patrol, who belonged to the great Smith family, to getting his nice suit wet.

"The best we can do," came the reply from the chief of the expedition, "is to get our duffel ready, and if there's any sign of the boat moving off, why we could disembark in a big hurry."

"Granny governor! do you really think she _may_ take a sudden notion to start out again on another cruise?" asked Bumpus, looking anxious.

"That's hard to say," he was told, "because it depends a whole lot on what the wind does. It's blowing great guns right now, but so long as it holds down-river way I think the shanty boat will stick here on this point. But there's a chance of it changing more into the northwest, and then nothing could hold the boat here."

"But couldn't we tie her up somehow to one of those trees, you know?" demanded Smithy.

"Yes, if we had the cable to do it with," Thad informed him.

"But--there was a rope, seems to me?" continued Smithy.

"Take a look at it, Allan, and let's hear what you think," said the leader.

At that Allan darted outside, despising the scanty rain that was still coming down, though decreasing constantly. Hardly had half a minute elapsed before the scout was back inside again.

"Well, what's doing?" asked Giraffe impatiently.

"There's a piece of cable there, all right," came the reply; "I dragged it out of the water where it's been ever since we broke away up above. Seems to be a pretty hefty rope, too, even if it did give way under that terrific strain; but for all that, boys, it won't do."

"You mean there isn't enough of it, don't you, Allan?" asked Thad, who apparently had foreseen just such an answer.

"Lacks many feet of being worth while," replied the other; "so you see, Smithy, a rope's something we haven't got."

"'A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse,' only in this case it's a bully old half-inch cable we want most of all," Giraffe asserted.

"Well, I think we'd better take Thad's advice, and get our stuff together, so if it comes to a case of jump we'll be ready to skip out of this," Bumpus remarked; for he evidently dreaded another siege similar to the last, with the shanty boat whirling down the agitated river, subject to innumerable risks, such as kept one's heart jumping up toward his throat in a most uncomfortable way, to say the least.

It did not take them long to do this, for besides their haversacks, blankets, guns, and the few cooking utensils they had with them, their possessions did not amount to much.

"How about the stuff aboard the old boat--had we ought to commandeer that?" asked Giraffe, who did dislike to see anything in the shape of food get away from him, when it might just as well be saved.

"I should think we had a right to grab what food there is. It don't amount to a great deal, and we'd be only too glad to pay for the same if ever we ran across the owner of the tub," ventured Bumpus, also having an eye to the future, and a strong dislike for the first gnawing of hunger.

They all looked to Thad to decide that point.

"Since the chances are the boat will either be wrecked on some of these ugly jagged rocks that lie in wait all along the course, or else fall into the hands of boys who may be watching the flood for driftwood and such stuff, it seems all right to me to take what we want."

"The right of first discoverers!" remarked Smithy grandly.

"There's a piece of breakfast bacon, suh, hanging up behind the stove," quickly announced Bob White, who apparently clung to the ways of his beloved South, where the ordinary salt pork is always called "bacon," and the smoked sides go under the name he mentioned.

"And a package of grits as you call the fine hominy corn, in that box under the table, Bob, which ought to make you as happy as a king. What more could a fellow from Dixieland want more than hog and hominy?" Allan laughingly announced.

They gathered the things wanted near the door, and every scout knew exactly what his identical share of the burden was going to be. This was done so that if there should be any need for a hurried desertion of the boat there might not ensue any disastrous confusion that would cost them dearly.

"I reckon now the old cheese-box-on-a-raft would turn out too heavy for us to drag any further up on the shore, so even the wind couldn't take her off?" Step Hen chanced to remark, after they had finished their preparations for departure, and huddled near the door, taking frequent observations concerning the state of the weather outside.

"I'm afraid so," Thad returned, "though we might give it a try when we do drop ashore, and see what we can do. These scows weigh tons, you know, and get logy in the bargain from being so long in the water. We'd need a block and tackle to manage it decently."

"Well, it's a pity we didn't think to bring one along, then," commented innocent Smithy, at which remark the rest set up a yell.

"I can see you staggering along with the whole outfit on your back, Smithy," he was told by Giraffe; "why, the blocks alone would faze you, not to mention the rope itself. If you've got a boat to carry it in, then it's all right to have the same along. But we started off light on this trip, you remember."

"Like fun we did," grunted Bumpus; "that pack of mine weighs an awful lot; and then the old coffee pot keeps cracking my shins every time I trip. But of course," he hastened to add, as though he hoped they would not believe he was complaining, "we couldn't think of going without our refreshing Java for breakfasts. Life'd be pretty dreary to Giraffe, and a few of the rest of us, if we didn't have their favorite beverage mornings."

"But look out there, fellows, and tell me if you don't think it's really getting some lighter," Step Hen besought them.

"Well, you can see the trees a heap better than before," admitted Giraffe; "but that might come from our eyes getting more accustomed to looking into the darkness."

"No, it's full time for day to break," they were assured by Allan, who had immediately turned toward the friendly little lamp so as to examine his watch.

A general sigh as of relief followed this welcome announcement. That had been a terribly long night, and one those scouts were not apt to forget in a hurry. They may have been through considerable in the way of adventure in the past, but somehow that experience of being carried headlong downstream on the wild flood, with frequent alarms as the boat struck treacherous shoals and half-hidden rocks, made a deep impression on their minds, from the leader down to Bumpus.

"Do you think it's going to clear up?" asked Smithy, who did not pretend to be a weather sharp, and always depended on some of his mates when in need of information along these lines.

"I don't believe it's raining a single drop now," Davy informed them, after stepping outside on the deck, and holding up his face to learn the truth.

"But it's just as gray overhead as ever," added Giraffe, who could be a pessimist when he chose, and always see the dark side of things.

"I move we have a bite to eat while we're waiting for morning to come," suggested Allan; and from the way both Giraffe and Bumpus started eagerly up, as though they heartily approved of the idea, it was plain that both of them had been thinking along these same lines though not wishing to betray their inclinations, for fear of having the finger of scorn pointed at them.

The suggestion seemed to meet with popular favor; at least it aroused no objections, for all of them realized that with such a deluge, dry wood was going to be a scarce commodity ashore for part of the ensuing day at least; and it was only policy for them to take advantage of the chance they had of obtaining a splendid cooking fire aboard the boat.

The operation of preparing breakfast did not take them a great while, for long experience made them experts along these lines. And while they were doing this the darkness without gradually gave way to the gray dawn.

While the immediate prospect ahead of them was far from cheerful, it seemed such a vast improvement over what they had recently faced that every one of the eight boys felt ready to joke and laugh as they partook of the meal.

Step Hen was up to his old tricks again, and accusing his chums of hiding some of his possessions that afterward turned up in the very place he had put them. It was generally that way, for Step Hen _forgot_, which was his most cardinal sin. And even when he found that he had his bandanna tied around his neck, though tucked out of sight, after asking Giraffe if he had purloined the same, he indignantly wanted to know who had played that mean trick on him, so as to make him believe he had lost his most cherished possession.

"Step Hen," said Giraffe gravely, "you make me think of one of those pearl divers that go down in the Indian Ocean for oysters. When a big shark waits for him to rise from the bottom what does the native do but stir up the sand, and make the water so roily that the man-eater just can't see him when he shoots to the surface."

"Oh! so I'm a shark, am I?" demanded Step Hen indignantly.

"No, you're the smart pearl diver," retorted Giraffe; "for when you find yourself caught in a hole, and that all the while you're wearing the lost hat or the bandanna, you accuse us of having put it there, so as to blind everybody's eyes."

"Yes," added Allan, with a laugh, "Step Hen is like the thief being chased by a mob; and who yells out at the top of his voice, 'Stop, thief!' so everybody he meets will think he's the man who's been robbed; and in the confusion he gets off. You're the guilty one who poked that red rag under the collar of your flannel shirt, and the less you say about it the better."

Whereupon Step Hen, finding himself routed, only grinned, and wisely held his peace, realizing that the boys were "on to him," as Giraffe put it.

So breakfast was eaten, and at least they all felt in better trim to face what new troubles the day might bring in its train.

Bumpus would never be happy so long as they remained aboard that clumsy craft. He haunted the deck, and kept watching the rushing river, as well as the way the furious wind blew.

Whenever a gust bore down upon them that caused the boat to move he would hurry inside, and give Thad a look of mute appeal that was very forceful. It meant that Bumpus wanted the leader to give the word to disembark. Though the island presented but a dismal prospect for the castaways, anything was better than running the risk of being blown adrift again. And Bumpus did want to feel solid ground under his feet again more than words could say.

Thad, however, did not mean to desert their comfortable quarters so easily, and had made up his mind to wait until the danger became more real and apparent. This must all depend upon the force and direction of the wind, which, however, all of them could see was steadily veering toward the northwest.