Sandy seemed to be given a new lease of life. Hope brought fresh powers of endurance. Without an instant's delay he slid over the end of the canoe, and into the flood. He was a swimmer, like every young pioneer who went into the wilderness with his people; and, as soon as Sandy put his shoulder to the now-lightened canoe, why of course its progress toward the near-by point of land was considerably quickened. It was all right! They could count on being able to make land, where the boat might be repaired, and their own flagging energies restored, ere they again breasted the swollen stream in the effort to reach the home shore. Now they could touch bottom with their feet. After that it was easy; so that soon the boat was dragged up on the land, safe from the swirling waters. Sandy tried to give a shout to signify how glad he felt; but there was not breath enough left in his lungs. All he could do was to sink down on the friendly shore, and pant like a winded deer. Bob followed suit. He was as exhausted as his brother; for his recent efforts had been simply tremendous. And, as he lay on the shore, there must have come to his heart that warm glow so natural to victory, when one has fought the good fight, and won. But not for long did Bob stay there on the ground. He knew that there was much to be done, since they were soaked to the skin, and shivering. Besides, the canoe must be emptied of the water it contained and dragged up higher; for no one could say to what limit the flood might attain ere it began to fall. And Sandy, seeing his intention, also dragged his weary frame erect. "What ought we do first?" he asked. "Take hold, and we will empty out the canoe. Then let us try to make some sort of shelter from the rain; after which a fire would be the next best thing." Sandy worked hard. He was cold, and his teeth rattled together in spite of the great gratitude that filled his heart over their almost miraculous preservation. The sooner they got that campfire started, the better for them both. He went to work as on the other occasion, at the time they were preparing against the coming of this storm. Only now he had to accept just such substitutes as the island afforded. Fortunately it was wooded, so that they need not lack for material. Some of the rocks offered a chance to build up side walls, over which the roof might slope, to shed the rain that was still coming down. It took time to accomplish all this, but promised to repay their efforts. When the shelter was in a fair way toward being finished, Bob set to work starting a fire. Luckily he kept his tinder in a little waterproof box, held within his bag; and it had not suffered from his immersion in the river. An adept with flint and steel, he quickly had the sparks flying, and a blaze began to spring up. This was fed with bits of dry wood, torn from the heart of a partly-dead tree, until there was enough fire to seize upon anything offered in the way of fuel.