Tom Slades Double Dare | Page 5

the next
best thing is to be thoroughly wet.
They chose the widest and heaviest of the boats, a stout old tub with
two pairs of oarlocks. Each of the four manned an oar and pulled with
both hands. It was almost impossible to get started against the wind,
and when at last their steady, even pulling overcame the deterring
power of the gale they were able to move at but a snail's pace. They
followed the shoreline, keeping as close in as they could, preferring the
circuitous route to the more perilous row across the lake.
As their roundabout voyage brought them to the opposite shore, their
progress became easier, for the mountain rising sheer above them
protected them from the wind.
"Let her drift a minute," said Tom, panting; "lift your oars."
It was the first word that any of them had spoken, so intense had been
their exertions.
"She's going straight ahead," said Westy.
"What's that?" said Roy suddenly. "Look out!"
He spoke just in time to enable them to get out of the path of a floating
tree which was drifting rapidly in the same direction as the boat. Its
great mass of muddy roots brushed against them.

"It's just as I thought," Tom said; "the water must be pouring out
through the cove. We're caught in it. Let's try to get a little off shore;
we'll have one of those trees come tumbling down on our heads the first
thing we know."
"Not so easy," said Hervey, as they tried to backwater and at the same
time get out from under the mountain.
"Put her in reverse," said Roy, who never failed to get the funny squint
on a situation.
But there was no use, the rushing water had them in its grip and they
were borne along pell-mell, with trees and broken limbs which had
fallen down the mountainside.
They were directly opposite the camp now, and cheerful lights could be
seen in the pavilion where the whole camp community was
congregated, safe from the storm. The noises which had seemed weird
enough at camp were appalling now, as out of that havoc far above
them, great bowlders came tumbling down into the lake with loud
splashes.
Tom realized, all too late, the cause of the dreadful peril they were in.
Out on the body of the lake and toward the camp shore the wind was
blowing a gale from the mountains and, as it were, forcing the water
back. But directly under the mountain there was no wind, and their
position was as that of a person who is under the curve of a waterfall.
And here, because there was no wind to counteract it, the water was
rushing toward what was left of the cove. It was like a rapid river
flowing close to the shore and bearing upon its hurrying water the
débris which had crashed down from that lonesome, storm-torn height.
The boat was caught in this rushing water and the danger was increased
by its closeness to the shore where every missile of rock or tree, cast by
that frowning monster, might at any minute dash the craft to splinters.
The little flickering lights which shone through the spray and fine
blown rain across that black water seemed very cheerful and inviting

now.
CHAPTER IV
THE TREE
"We're in a bad fix," said Tom; "let's try to make a landing and see if
we can scramble along shore to the cove."
It is doubtful whether they could have scrambled along that precipitous
bank, but in any case, so great was the impetus of the rushing water that
even making a landing was impossible. The boat was borne along with
a force that all their exertions could not counteract, headlong for the
cove.
"What can we do?" Roy asked.
"The only thing that I know of," said Tom, "is to get within reach of the
shore in the cove. If we can do that we might get to safety even if we
have to jump."
Presently the boat went careening into the cove; an appalling sound of
scraping, then of tearing, was heard beneath it, it reared up forward,
spilling its occupants into the whirling water and, settling sideways,
remained stationary.
The boys found themselves clinging to the branches of a broken tree
which was wedged crossways in the cove, its trunk entirely submerged.
It formed a sort of makeshift dam and the boat, caught in its branches,
added to the obstruction.
If it had not been for this tree the boat would have been borne upon the
flood, with what tragic sequel who shall say?
"All right," said Tom, "we're lucky; keep hold of the branches, it's only
a few feet to shore; careful how you step. If you let go