He pointed but a short distance away. A boat was drifting toward them, a craft probably twenty-five feet in length and correspondingly broad of beam. The boat had had a mast but this was broken off short and hung, with the sail, over the side. Soon the boat bumped up against the lumber raft and they caught hold of the wreckage and held fast. The body of the craft was in good condition and they immediately leaped into the boat and began to clear away the fallen mast and the sail with its ropes. There were some signs of fire both at the bow and the stern but this had done little but char the seats and gunwale. In the bottom of the boat rested a keg and several boxes. “This is much better than the lumber,” observed Frank, when they were safely on board and had saved part of the mast and the sail. “I suppose this boat either went adrift or the persons in her were drowned. What do you suppose is in the keg and in the boxes?” “Water in da keg,” announced the sailor, after an examination. He took a long drink and the boys did the same. The water was very warm but to their parched throats it was like nectar. On breaking open the boxes they were found to contain eatables of various kinds, evidently packed for a trip of several days. At once all fell to, eating the first “square” meal they had had since drifting around. “There, that puts new life into a fellow,” exclaimed Mark, when he had finished. “Now let us hoist that mast and sail and steer for St. Pierre.” “Do you believe this eruption reached that city?” questioned Frank, with a look of new alarm suddenly showing itself on his worn face. Mark gazed back blankly for an instant. “Great Cæsar, Frank! If it did, and your father and mine were there----” Mark could not finish. With sober faces the two boys assisted Sven Orlaff to hoist the broken mast and fix it in place with ropes, of which, fortunately there were plenty, they having been dragging in the water, thus escaping the fire. Then the sail was hoisted, and they began a slow journey southward, in the direction of St. Pierre harbor. As the boat advanced more wreckage was encountered, and once they passed a small raft filled with household goods. On top of the goods lay the half burnt bodies of several people. Then they passed the bodies of several cows and of a horse, and the wreckage became thicker and thicker. The sights made them shudder and grow sick at heart. Night found them still on the sea, some distance west of St. Pierre, for they had missed their reckoning by over a mile, Sven Orlaff being but a common sailor and understanding little more of steering than themselves. A horrible smell reached them, coming from the distant shore. When day dawned, it found them somewhat rested and eager to get closer to land, although they determined not to go ashore until they felt it would be safe to do so. Each of the boys was thinking of his father. Was it possible that St. Pierre had been overcome and were their parents dead?