CHAPTER XXV

SNATCHED FROM DEATH

But the jubilation of the Radio Boys at the victory of rain over the flames soon gave way to feelings of alarm at a new danger that threatened them.

The wind seemed to abandon the upper stretches of the air and swooped down on the lake. Soon it had become a howling gale that churned the waters into foam and tossed their frail craft about like an eggshell.

Had they been in a canoe or even in an ordinary rowboat, they could not have survived. But the broad surface that the raft presented to the water made it difficult to upset it, though at times it seemed as though it would throw a complete somersault.

Up and down it went sickeningly, at one moment on the crest and the next in the trough of the waves. Again and again the water came aboard and swept the raft from end to end, and the boys had to dig their hands and feet into the crevices of the raft and hold on for dear life.

Bob had thrown himself at full length on the raft, one arm flung about the radio set which otherwise would have been washed overboard.

Buck’s fears had again been aroused by the new peril, and he broke out into lamentations, which might have had an unnerving effect on the other boys had they not been half-smothered by the clamor of the wind and waves.

Suddenly a new sound broke through the din, a noise that the boys from their experience at Ocean Point recognized at once as the roar of waves beating on the shore.

In a sense this was welcome, as it told them that the land was near. The solid earth never seemed so precious to them as it did at that moment. They were expert swimmers, and in ordinary circumstances could swim to the shore if they were thrown from the raft.

But these were far from being ordinary circumstances. No swimmer could live long in such a storm, when the waves might easily beat him into unconsciousness. The shore might be steep and slippery, so that they could not get a hold either with hands or feet. And if the raft were hurled on it, some of its occupants might be stunned by the shock or by something against which they might be thrown, and thus lose their chance of safety.

“Stand by, fellows,” shouted Bob, his words barely heard above the shrieking of the storm. “Keep as close together as you can and be ready to help. One for all and all for one. Remember!”

The words had barely left his lips when there was a terrific concussion as the raft was thrown on a group of rocks lining the shore of the lake. The craft hung there impaled, while all of the boys were flung headlong into the cruel, swirling waters.

Those waters beat upon them mercilessly, seeking to drag them back into the lake. But they clung desperately to projecting points of rock until the wave receded. Then they were rejoiced to find that their feet could touch bottom. Before the next roller came in they had got in far enough to be safe, Bob dragging Buck, who had again collapsed, along with them.

They dragged themselves up on the shore, which luckily was sloping at that point, and then threw themselves down, too strained and exhausted to speak, but their hearts filled with an immense gratitude for their deliverance.

For several minutes they lay there panting. Then Bob sat up with a sudden exclamation.

“The radio set!” he cried. “Where is it?”

Without waiting for an answer he hurried to the shore. There at a little distance lay the raft, held fast in shallow water. And on it, to Bob’s great relief, rested the old reliable radio set, whose weight had held it steadfast.

Joe had followed him, and together they measured with their eyes the distance to the raft. It was only a few yards, and they knew that the water there was shallow.

“When I give the word, Joe,” directed Bob.

They waited till the next wave dashed in.

“Now!” cried Bob, as it began to recede.

They rushed into the water, reached the raft, grasped the set and were half way back when the next wave caught them. But the weight of the set helped to steady them, and the next moment they were safe on the shore with their precious possession.

“Now,” said Bob, “the next thing is to set it up and get in connection with Mr. Bentley.”

They set to work at once with alacrity. Herb shinned up a tree with wire, from which he made an extemporized aerial, while Bob, Joe and Jimmy busied themselves with making a ground connection. In a few minutes the work was done, the battery was working and Bob was sending a message to wing its way through the ether.

“Radio Boys safe,” he sent. “Stranded on coast of lake. Do you hear me, Bentley?”

Not more than a minute elapsed before an answer came.

“Thank God!” the message ran. “Had feared you were lost in the fire. Will scout around until I find you. This rain is taking my job off my hands, and as soon as the fire is under control I’ll start looking for you.”

Bob communicated the message to the others who had crowded around and who were as delighted as he that he had got in touch with their staunch and reliable friend. All that they had to do now was to wait with what patience they could summon until rescue came.

And now that the greatest peril was past, they had time to take account of their plight. They were wet and haggard and bedraggled. Their hair had been singed in places, and there were blisters on their hands and faces. Their eyes were hollow and there were unaccustomed lines about them. They were frightfully weary.

But all these things seemed like trifles compared with the one great fact that their lives had been spared. How could they dream of complaining about anything?

The rain was still falling heavily, and the flames had died down. There was a red glow in the heart of the forest, which looked like one gigantic ember, and volumes of steam were rising to the sky. The fire had done its worst, but rain had proved its master.

Perhaps an hour elapsed, and then from afar they heard the roar of an airplane engine. Nearer and nearer it came, until they could see the plane like a great bird coming toward them.

That the pilot had seen them as they waved their arms was evident by the way the plane began circling above them, looking for a landing. One was discovered in an open space not far away, and the plane came gracefully down. The boys rushed toward it, and the next moment Payne Bentley jumped out and was soon shaking hands and giving the boys bear hugs that showed how deeply he was moved by meeting with them again.

Then came questions and answers in quick succession that enlightened all of them on the situation of affairs. The boys told of their adventures, and the forest ranger in turn gave them the story of the fire. It had proved unexpectedly stubborn, and the fire fighters, worn and exhausted, were at the limit of their endurance when the rain had come to their help. In response to their eager inquiries, he assured them that the tracts belonging to Dr. Dale and the Old First Church had been saved without substantial damage.

The plane could not carry them all at once, and Mr. Bentley had to make two trips before the boys were safe and sound at a ranger’s rendezvous beyond the zone of fire, where they were received with open arms and had the refreshment and rest they so sorely needed.

They ate till they could eat no more, and then slept right through the next twenty-four hours.

It was a much chastened and subdued Buck Looker who bade them good-by with what seemed real gratitude the following day. While the Radio Boys were somewhat in doubt as to whether the “leopard” could really “change his spots,” they were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and sent him away with their best wishes.

“Fellows,” said Bob, as they were lounging in front of the house that had given them shelter, “if you had your choice, what would you rather be when you grew up—a radio expert or a forest ranger?”

The question was something of a poser, for each vocation had its special fascinations. Joe answered it in Yankee fashion by asking:

“How about you, Bob? Which would you rather be?”

“Both,” answered Bob. “Just like Payne Bentley.”

THE END