"But, what good would that do us?" he demanded. "If ever we did get ashore, think how cold we should be, and likely to starve to death. I think I'd rather take my chances sitting right here, than try that." "But you don't understand the whole of the plan yet, Sandy," the other went on, steadily, for he was quite used to having his impatient brother break in upon him in this way. "Oh! if there is more of it, I'm glad to hear it," Sandy remarked. "After we've tied our guns, and part of our clothes, to the log, what do we expect to do then, Bob--fly away to the shore away over yonder? We might,--if only we had wings!" "Listen, then," Bob pursued. "We'll slip down into the water, and, one on either side of the log, start steering it in the direction of land. Do you understand now, brother?" Sandy gave a shout, for he was always enthusiastic, once he discovered any reason for being so. "It is a great idea, Bob," he said, warmly. "And I never would have thought it out in an hour. Just as you say, we can, by slow stages, push the log ashore. Even if it is miles below the settlement, we will have our clothes with us, and tinder bags to start a fire with. But why, do you think, did no one answer our shouts back there?" "In the first place," replied Bob, who was beginning to fumble around, in a hunt for the best nubbin of a broken branch, to which he might secure his valuables, consisting of his precious musket, powder horn, bullet pouch, tinder bag, and last, if not least of all, his clothes, which the loving fingers of their mother had fashioned out of pliable deerskin; "in the first place, we must have been some distance below the settlement at the time of our accident." "Yes," added Sandy, at once, seeing how reasonable this sounded, "I think you are right about that, Bob." "And," continued the other, "even if they had guessed that the cries came from down the river, what could they have done to help us? There is no better boat than the one we owned; and, with night at hand, and the sky as black as it is now, the women would not have let the men venture out upon the water. They are always in mortal fear lest the wily Indians lay some plan for the undoing of our settlement, and begin with luring some of its defenders away." Sandy, too, was beginning to secure some of his things to the novel craft which a strange decree of fate had made them accept as a means of riding the flood in safety. When he had received the several buckskin thongs which his brother passed over to him, the task of securing the gun to the two knobs he had selected was first of all begun, because with that in his hands he could accomplish little. But Sandy, dearly loved to talk. It was indeed hard to keep him quiet, for he was always either seeking information from another, or else desirous of imparting his own views upon various subjects. So, even as he worked, he must needs start afresh.