"Then I will go along. Perhaps two pair of eyes may be better than one in looking for the spruce pine," declared the younger brother, eagerly. And so it proved, for Sandy was the one to discover the tree they sought. Bob could figure just how the paddles might be hewn out, and he attacked the tree in a spirited way that soon encompassed its fall. When he tired, Sandy took a turn; and in this fashion they finally had three pieces, in the rough, which Bob declared would make very good paddles. And by slow degrees the first one was shaped until it only needed whittling with a knife to complete the job. "That seems all right," declared Sandy, as he proceeded to try the blade; "and I give you my word that it is far stronger than either of the ones we lost. I mean to fasten my paddle, this time, to my wrist with a bit of buckskin thong, and then, even if I lose my grip, it will never get away." "A clever idea," answered Bob, pausing in his work to wipe his brow, and smile at his brother; "and it will pay us all to do the same. Was it not father who told us how an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure? And once a paddle gets caught in the clutch of that river it can never be recovered again." "See!" exclaimed Sandy, "our friend is stirring! He is sitting up, and staring around him. I think he can hardly understand where he is, and how he came to cheat the river of a grave. Now he sees us, and smiles. Bob, there is something I like about that man, stranger though he is. I seem to feel that he is a friend, and that we will always be glad we rescued him to-day." "I am sure of that. There, the second paddle is about done. I am tired of the work, so let us go over to make the acquaintance of our guest. He is beckoning to us," and Bob dropped his hatchet to obey the summons. The stranger held out both hands, while his bearded face lighted up with a smile that, as Sandy had said, was very winning. "How can I ever thank you, boys, for what you have done?" he said, as he pressed a hand of each. "But for you I should have passed over to the other side." "Please do not say anything more," replied Bob, who could not bear to be praised for simply doing his duty. "Who may you be, and how did it happen that we found you among the tree-tops at the head of this island?" "My name is Silas Hemphill. With a party of others I was on my way down the river in a dugout canoe, intending to join our fortunes with the new settlers from Virginia, who lately came overland. We left Fort Pitt two days back, and were progressing fairly when this storm broke upon us. Doubtless we took too many chances, for we presently found ourselves in the grasp of the river, and could not return to shore." He paused a minute to get a grip on himself, and then continued: