ments were painfully slow.

Moreover, it offered doubtful security in its inverted position, and was
likely to sink if any weight was put upon it.

A few vigorous strokes brought Ned alongside the drifting log as it
swung past him. He straddled it a little beyond the middle, holding on
with both hands.

It sank a little with his weight, causing the front end to tip upwards,
but his head and shoulders were clear out of water. Turning cautiously
around, he saw to his dismay that Randy was still aground on the island.

"Push off as soon as you can," he shouted. "Overtake my canoe and paddle
for the left bank. I'm safe for the present, and will try to reach
land."

"All right!" came the reply an instant later. "I'll do my best."

The words had a vague, far away sound, for already the distance had
widened considerably. The log went swiftly on its course, heading
straight through mid-channel, and leaping and plunging in the turbid
water.

Ned clung to it with might and main. He was not a little worried by his
strange and perilous position. The yellow flood stretching on all sides
of him was a terrifying sight.

The thunder and lightning had almost entirely ceased, and the wind had
fallen, leaving the creek as smooth as a millpond; but the rain still
poured with a steady persistency that threatened a long continuance.

Ned did not mind this much. The air and the water were both warm, and he
felt fairly comfortable.

He was more concerned for his companions than for himself. It would be a
difficult matter, he reflected, for Randy to manage the two canoes and
the tent.

He wondered how Clay and Nugget were faring--whether they still remained
on the island, or had ventured to embark in search of their companions,
now that the violence of the storm was past.

Meanwhile Ned was not oblivious to his own danger. While these things
were passing through his mind, he was striving to guide the log toward
shore by paddling with his left hand and leg. At first he seemed to make
no progress.

The current was running swift, and the log remained obstinately in
mid-channel. The flood was rising, too. Plain proof of it was seen in
the _debris_ that floated on all sides--patches of grass and bushes,
broken limbs, and here and there a fence rail.

The sky was still overcast with dark clouds, and the gloom behind him
showed Ned no trace of Randy or the canoes. He worked harder and harder
to gain the shore, and finally he discover