The boat had passed safely through the first stretch of timber lands, and was now floating over a broad reach of open plantation country. But the fog was gone now, and, as there was woodland in sight a few miles farther on in the direction in which the current was carrying them, Phil and his friends felt that their respite was likely to be a brief one. He relieved Ed at the pump, and ordered him to rest. But the boy protested that he was still fresh, and would have worked on if Phil had permitted. Even in this time of danger and hurried effort, Phil could not help thinking how greatly his brother’s health and strength had improved. “Ed’s getting well,” he said to Irv, as the two tugged at the pump. “Yes,” rejoined the tall fellow; “a month ago he couldn’t have done such work as this to save his life.” “And twenty-four hours of such a fog as we’ve been through would have killed him to a certainty. Now he doesn’t even cough.” A little later, as the boat began floating more steadily, Phil called out:-- “Go below, Ed, and see how much water is in the hold.” Ed’s report convinced the young captain that the leaks were at least not gaining upon the pumps. An hour later, the boat having become quite steady again, Phil found that the pumps were gaining on the water, which by that time did not rise above the flooring. The boat had by this time passed again into a forest, and, while the current was now a steady one, it was still very strong. Phil considered the situation carefully, and decided upon his course of action. “Take a line in a skiff, Will, and pass it once around a tree, then run off with the end of it and hold on, letting it slip as slowly as possible on the tree till the boat comes to a halt. Then make fast.” To the others he explained:-- “We must check her speed gradually. In such a current as this to stop her suddenly would sling her against some tree like a whip cracker.” Then he turned to Irv, and said, “Take another line, and do the same thing on another tree.” By the time that Irv pushed off in his skiff Will had got his line in place around a tree, and had rowed away fifty yards with the end of it. As it tightened, the rope began slipping on the tree, dragging the skiff toward it. Phil called to Will:-- “Don’t get hurt, Will! Let go your rope when you are dragged nearly to the tree.” Will did so just in time to save himself from an ugly collision, but his efforts had considerably checked the flatboat’s speed, and by the time he let go the line Irv had the other rope around a tree and was repeating the operation. This second line brought the boat to a standstill, and under Phil’s direction she was securely made fast both bow and stern, so that she could not swing about in any direction. CHAPTER XXIV A LITTLE AMATEUR SURGERY “The first thing to be done now,” said Phil, “is to find out what damage we have suffered, and repair as much of it as we can.”