at times being obliged to swerve almost directly across, which was not easy on account of the powerful current.
The river was constantly making new channels for itself, and leaving old ones, but the Clytie was a boat of small draught, and could easily navigate in shallow places.
"Suppose we eat something?" proposed Blake, for it was nearly noon. Considerable time had passed at the rescue work.
There was a small gasoline stove in the cabin of the boat, and they had with them plenty of supplies, so it was not long before a meal was in preparation. And, in spite of their anxiety about the missing ones, our friends managed to eat heartily. Even Mr. Piper seemed to lose most of his gloom, as he passed his cup for more coffee.
"We ought to be near that island now," observed Mr. Ringold, as he looked across at the shore nearest to which they then were. "The hotel clerk said it was opposite a certain town, with two white church steeples. There are the two white church steeples he mentioned."
"There isn't much of the town left," said Blake. "It's pretty well under water." And that was a fact. The lower part was submerged, and as they came up to it, men could be seen going about in boats, removing belongings
