“Yes,” answered Phil, “if we are on a level bar and if the boat has undergone no strain. You see as long as we have bottom under us, we shan’t leak to any serious extent. But when we float again, the great weight of our cargo will make every open seam admit water to its full capacity.” “Of course,” said Irv. “But what makes you think there are any open seams?” “Nothing,” answered Phil, “except a general impulse of precaution. We went aground very easily. In fact, I didn’t know we were aground till I saw the water flowing by, and by the way, it is RUNNING UP STREAM!” As he said this he leaned over the side and observed the water carefully. The other boys joined him and observed the same phenomenon, largely in wonder, but almost half in fright. The Mississippi River was unquestionably running the wrong way, and that, too, when a great flood was pouring down it and seeking its way to the sea. “What does it all mean, Ed?” asked Will Moreraud. “Tell us about it, for of course you know.” “I don’t know whether I know or not,” responded Ed, with more of hesitation than was usual in his tone. “I think we have had a small earthquake. We are in the midst of a region of small earthquakes. We are in New Madrid Bend, and for the best part of a century that has been a sort of earthquake nest.” “The river is running down stream again,” called out Constant, “and we are beginning to float, too.” “So we are,” said Irv Strong, going to the side and inspecting. “Let’s go below and find out whether or not we’re leaking.” The suggestion was a timely one. Phil indeed had anticipated it, and when his comrades went below they found him there with a lantern, minutely inspecting every point where incoming water might be looked for. Their search clearly revealed the fact that the flatboat--which was now again floating down the stream--was not leaking more than she did ordinarily, not so much that a few minutes’ pumping now and then could not keep her bilge empty. Having satisfied themselves of the boat’s safety, the boys returned to the deck, and renewed their demands upon Ed for an explanation. “Well, you see,” said Ed, “we’re in New Madrid Bend. Now, as I said a while ago, for the best part of a century, and probably for all the centuries before that, this region has been the home of earthquakes, not very great ones, but such as we have just experienced. Along about 1811 and 1812 it was distressed with much severer ones in an uncommon degree. We have just had the Mississippi River running up stream for five or ten minutes as a result of one of these disturbances. In 1811 it ran up stream for three full days and nights. Great fissures were opened in the earth all over the country round about, and as they always, or at least generally, ran north and south, the settlers used to fell trees east and west, and build their cabins upon them, so that they might not be swallowed up by the earthquakes.”