Maybe if you don’t live near meadow lands you won’t understand how it was. But when the tide rises twice every twenty-four hours (you learn that in the Fourth Grade), it makes creeks through the meadows and marshes. Some of them are deep enough for small motor boats even, only you’ve got to be careful not to stay up one of them too long or you’ll get stuck till the next day. One time that happened to Ed Sanders that owned the _Rascal_ and he was there all night, and he almost died from poison of the mosquitoes. Anyway I would have been dead before night when the mosquitoes come out—that’s one good thing. I don’t mean it’s one good thing, but anyway you know what I mean. Pretty soon I could push the swamp grass out of the way and swim a little. Oh, cracky, I was thankful for that tide! I knew it would keep on coming when it once started ’cause the tide never goes back on you. Of course it goes back, but you know what I mean. Sometimes if you’re on a hike and telling time by the sun it’ll go under a cloud, or sometimes if you’re lost and following the stars, it’ll cloud up and you can’t see them any more. And crinkums, a trail will go back on you sometimes. But the tide is sure. It’s _got_ to come up, and so I knew it was coming up to rescue me and I knew I was all right as soon as I saw that spark plug. Pee-wee wanted to name this chapter “_Saved By A Spark Plug_” or “_The Hero Plug_” but I said it sounded silly. Any way I’ll never say another word against the tide. Often when I saw motor boats stuck on the flats I could hear the men in them saying things about the tide—oh, gee, you ought to have heard some of the things they said. But I’ll never say anything, anyway. It seemed kind of, you know, like an army coming to rescue me, slow but sure, and pretty soon I was swimming around, and oh, didn’t I feel good! All of a sudden like, there was a little river there and it kept getting deeper and wider and I knew it began away out in the ocean and it seemed as if it was picking its way all the way up into these marshes, to give me a chance to do what every scout knows how to do—swim. Of course I was saved, but I didn’t know how far I’d have to swim, only I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to die now. I guess now you’d better look at the map I made, and then you’ll see how the creek came in the marshes and about where I was, when it began to rise. Of course I didn’t know where it came from or where it went, but I decided to swim against the tide for two reasons. First I was afraid to go the other way because it might just peter out, like most of those meadow creeks do, and then I’d be in the marsh again. Oh, boy, safety first. I’d had enough of marshes. Besides if I swam the other way it would be deeper and wider and I’d be more likely to find a board or a log or something and pretty soon I might come to solid shores.