After a while they were able to begin eating. Perhaps there might have seemed a sameness about this fare to a modern boy; but these hardy pioneer lads never dreamed of complaining. Indeed, their hearts were now filled with thanksgiving over their recent miraculous escape, and there was no room for regrets. Besides, they were not used to luxuries in those days. Sandy was drawing a long breath, as though really unable to finish all the food he had cooked, when he saw his brother start up. Bob was holding his head in a listening attitude. "What did you think you heard?" exclaimed the other, in alarm. "I must have been mistaken," said Bob, smiling; "for it would be next to impossible for any one to be out here on this island right now." "But did you think you heard some one call?" persisted Sandy. "Yes, it sounded like a shout. But no doubt it was some hawk that has found shelter, like ourselves, on the island. If we watch we will likely see him fly away, now that the rain has stopped." Bob had hardly spoken when both brothers half sprang to their feet. "It was a cry for help!" exclaimed Sandy, looking at his brother, as usual expecting Bob to take the initiative in the emergency. "Some one is in trouble!" said the other, "and it is up to us to see if we can do anything for him. Remember how we would have been crazy with joy had there been a helping hand held out when all seemed lost!" "There it comes again! And from the same place! Whoever it is, he cannot be going past the island." "No," cried Bob, "I think he must have been thrown ashore among all that trash at the upper end, and, unable to help himself, is in danger of drowning there, caught in the piled up tree-tops. Come, we must get there and lend a hand." "It may be an Indian, and a hostile," reminded Sandy. "I do not think so, for the shout seemed to call for 'help!' But even if it is an Indian, surely you have reason for knowing that all Indians are not cruel and merciless. Remember the gratitude of Blue Jacket. Come, Sandy!" Bob hardly needed to say all this, for Sandy would not have held back. Together they made their way along the shore. It was not easy travelling, for the bushes grew thickly and interfered with their passage; but Bob led the way, and, accustomed to pushing through the woods, he surmounted all difficulties, Sandy coming close at his heels. In this fashion they finally came to the head of the island, where the floating trunks of dead trees, some with branches, too, formed a sort of barrier, which the force of the flood had swept up on the point. "There, look yonder, Bob! I see him!" cried Sandy, the instant they arrived. There was indeed a clinging figure out amid that mass of floating timber. The unknown seemed to be endeavoring to crawl through the network surrounding him; but his strength had apparently reached its last notch.