Every now and then Phil would call to Irv and Constant in the skiff ahead, to pull with all their might to the right or left, and many times the flatboat, in spite of this diligence, had narrow escapes from disaster. It was terribly hard work, and the mental strain of it which fell upon Phil was worse even than the tremendous physical exertion put forth by the other boys. There was no midday meal served that day, for it would have meant destruction for any one of the boys to leave his post of duty long enough even to prepare the simplest food. About four o’clock in the afternoon Phil suddenly called to Irv:-- “Carry your line around a tree and check speed all you can!” Then turning to Will:-- “Jump into a skiff, Will, and take out another line, just as you did yesterday. When the boat stops, make fast!” The boys obeyed promptly, and a few minutes later _The Last of the Flatboats_ was securely tied to two great trees--one in front and one astern. Then Phil threw himself down on the deck and closed his eyes as if in sleep, and the boys in the skiffs came back on board. The captain was manifestly exhausted. The strain of watching and directing the course of the boat through so many hours and under circumstances so difficult, the still greater strain put upon his mind by his consciousness that he alone was responsible for the safety of boat and crew and cargo, and finally the sudden relief caused by a glimpse ahead which his comrades had been too busy to share, had brought on something very like collapse. The boys said nothing, lest they disturb him. He lay still for a quarter of an hour perhaps. Then he got up, stripped off his clothing, and leaped overboard. Five minutes later he returned to the deck refreshed by his bath, and almost himself again. As he dried himself with a towel, he said:-- “Two of you go below and get supper. Make it a big one, for we are all starving. And get it as quickly as you can.” Then, after a brief pause, he added:-- “You didn’t notice it, I suppose, but we’re out of the woods!” “How so?” asked Ed and Irv in unison. “There’s an open river just ahead,” replied Phil. “Go forward and look. I’m going to sleep now. Wake me up when supper is ready.” And in a moment the exhausted boy was sound asleep, stretched out upon a hard plank, without pillow or other comfort of any kind. “Poor fellow!” said Irv. “He’s got the big end of this job all the time.” With that he dived below, and returning, placed a pillow under Phil’s bandaged head, and spread a blanket over him, for the air was chill. CHAPTER XXVI THE CREW AND THEIR CAPTAIN Utterly worn out as he was, it was not a part of Phil’s purpose--it was not in his nature, indeed--to neglect any duty. He ate a hearty supper with the boys, during which he talked very little. Once he said, suddenly:-- “I suspect it’s the Tallahatchie.” “What do you mean?” asked Ed.