CHAPTER XXIV

IN THE FLOATING FOREST

Putting into operation the suggestion of the professor the boys started the _Dartaway_ off after breakfast on a tour of the lake. The day was cloudy and there was a stiff breeze which kicked up something of a sea, but the motor craft was able to weather heavier waves than any the boys encountered.

“There must be an outlet to account for the water flowing away,” remarked the professor, as they speeded along. Bob continued to improve slightly though he was far from well. His delirium had left him, however, and he was very weak.

They traveled many miles around the shores of the lake but discovered nothing in the way of an outlet. The water seemed to be lowering rapidly.

“This is getting serious,” remarked the professor as he closely scanned the surface of the lake. “We’ve got to do something.”

“The question is--what?” said Ned.

“We had better go a little farther,” continued the scientist. “Then if we do not discover something, we’ll camp for the night. In the morning we may have better luck.”

It was well along in the afternoon now and Jerry, who was at the wheel, speeded up the engine to send the craft ahead faster in order to cover as much of the lake as possible. But no explanation of the phenomenon rewarded the efforts of the travelers.

“That looks like a good place to camp,” said Jerry, pointing ahead to a clump of forest. The shores were of sloping gravel and the receding water has not left exposed a lot of mud. “We can’t do better than to put up there,” he added.

“Are we going ashore?” asked Ned.

“I think it will be wise,” replied Uriah Snodgrass. “Bob is restless in the narrow bunk and he needs a change.”

The sick boy had dozed off and took no part in the discussion.

The _Dartaway_ was headed for the place Jerry had indicated, and in a short time the travelers were ashore with Ned and Jerry making camp and erecting the tent, while the professor looked after Bob. The boat was moored by a long rope some distance from shore as they did not want to find it aground in the morning in case the waters should continue to recede. They could wade out to it, as the shore was sloping.

Bob did seem a little better when placed on a comfortable cot in the tent. However, he took no interest in what was going on but lay with closed eyes, for the fever still burned in his veins in spite of the medicine administered by the professor.

“I must get something stronger for Bob,” he said. “If I was near a drug store I would have no trouble, but out here I’m afraid I can find nothing that will completely break the high fever. If I met our old Indian friend he might be able to suggest to me some vegetable remedy.”

“We’d better made everything doubly secure to-night,” remarked Jerry as they prepared to retire.

“Why?” asked Ned.

“Because there’s going to be a storm, and, if I’m not much mistaken, a tough one.”

Indeed it did look as though Jerry’s prophecy was likely to be fulfilled. The sun had long since sunk down behind a bank of ominous looking clouds, and now a fitful wind was springing up, sighing through the palmetto trees and swaying the long streamers of vines like big pendulums. Whenever the wind died away momentarily there was a curious hush over everything, that magnified slight sounds. It grew darker but with a peculiar yellow cast that gave objects a sickly hue.

“We’re in for a heavy blow,” remarked the professor. “Look well to the guy ropes, boys.”

They needed no urging, but set to with a will, the scientist helping them, to make their camp secure. As the hours went by, and the signs of the storm did not increase, they had hopes that it might pass away.

Ned and the professor stretched themselves out on their cots while Jerry, who had agreed to take first watch, sat just outside the tent watching the fitful play of lightning in the western sky.

“I guess it’s coming after all,” he said to himself as the flashes grew more brilliant. Now and then low mutterings of thunder could be heard, and the wind, which, for the last half hour had died away, suddenly sprang up with an increased violence.

Suddenly there sounded a shrill shrieking as though some gigantic whistle had been blown. So startling was it that Jerry sprang to his feet thinking that, in some unaccountable way, a steamer had gotten on Butterfly Lake. But an instant later he knew it was the hurricane, for the force of it nearly blew the tent over.

“All hands to help hold things down!” yelled Jerry, springing to a guy rope as the canvas undulated under the force of the powerful wind.

Fortunately Ned and the professor were light sleepers. They sprang up and went to Jerry’s assistance. The tent seemed determined to give in to the wind and collapse, but the three held on until the first fury of the blast had passed by. It settled down to a heavy blow but the ropes held. Then with a dash of stinging globules the rain came, and the storm was fairly on. The three outside the tent were drenched in an instant, and hastened inside.

Bob had awakened from the noise of the tempest. He sat up, half frightened, but when Jerry assured him everything was safe he turned over and dozed off again, so powerful a hold did the fever have on him.

It was a night such as the travelers had seldom experienced on any of their journeys, and they had been in some tight places. There was almost a continuous rattle and roar of thunder and the lightning was incessant. Mingled with the rain was the boom of the lake waves on the shore, for the wind kicked up quite a disturbance on the large body of water.

“I hope our boat’s safe,” remarked Jerry as there sounded a fiercer burst of the storm.

It seemed as if morning would never come but at last there was a perceptible lifting of the darkness and the storm seemed to abate some. Ned put on an oil-skin coat, and, donning a pair of rubber boots, ventured out. No sooner had he emerged from the tent than he gave a shout which brought the professor and Jerry to the tent flap.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.

“We’re adrift!”

“Adrift! What do you mean? We’re not on the boat!”

“No, but we’re on something that’s floating. Look over there at those trees on shore and you can see that we’re moving!”

Jerry and the professor looked. Getting two tall trees in range they could easily note that they were moving, as the position of the trees changed with reference to themselves.

“What could have happened?” asked Jerry.

“We must have landed on an island instead of on the mainland,” said Ned. “In some way the island got adrift.”

“I think we landed on the main land all right,” said Uriah Snodgrass, “but what happened was this: These everglades are not much more than floating masses of vegetation, several feet thick it is true, and capable of supporting large trees. But the fury of the storm probably cut off from the main land the portion we’re on. It floated off and took us with it. We’re in the middle of the lake.”

“Where’s our boat?” asked Jerry.

“Back where you moored it, probably, unless it has also drifted with us,” replied Mr. Snodgrass.

“Then we’re in for a lot of trouble,” exclaimed Ned. “What shall we do?”

“We’d better make some explorations,” suggested the professor. “It’s stopped raining. We’ll try and discover how large our island is.”

They looked to see that Bob was comfortable, and found him sleeping. Placing some water where he could reach it, the three set off expecting to be back in half an hour or so.

Through the woods they went, seeking to get to the other side of the floating island to look for their boat. It was hard work tramping through the underbrush, and they needed all the protection which their heavy oil-skin coats and rubber boots gave them. On and on they went, taking little heed of direction, for they were all anxious and worried.

But the island seemed very large. They had left the shores and were well into the interior. It was dark and gloomy for the sky was overcast. Suddenly the professor called:

“Boys, let’s halt a minute.”

Ned and Jerry stopped. They looked at their companion.

“I’m afraid we’ve done rather a foolish thing,” he said. “Have either of you a compass?”

The boys said they had not.

“Neither have I,” went on Mr. Snodgrass. “I left mine in the tent. We should have been more careful. I don’t know in what direction we are going, nor which way to go back. This island is larger than I thought.”

“Do you think we’re lost?” asked Ned, in some alarm.

“Yes, boys, it looks very much as though we were lost in a floating forest, and I think we’ll have trouble in getting back to camp.”