In the meantime Dick built a small fire and made a pot of hot coffee, of which all partook with great satisfaction, along with several sandwiches.
"Sure an' I fought I was a goner," said Danny, when he felt strong enough to speak. "My, but don't dat river run fast!"
"In a place like this, one has to have all his wits about him," answered Dick.
"I'll have me wits about me when I cross another tree bridge, dat's as sure as yer born," concluded Danny.
Among the articles they carried, the boys had several fishing lines, and while Danny rested, Bob and Dick baited with some land crabs they succeeded in catching, and threw into the stream to try their luck.
"I've got a bite!" cried Bob, a half minute later, and drew in his haul, a tiny brown fish weighing not over three or four ounces. "Not worth anything," he muttered, disappointedly.
A short while later Dick felt a jerk, and at once his line began to leave his hand rapidly. "Something, big," he cried, and played his catch as skillfully as he could. Inside of five minutes the fish was landed—a speckled beauty of at least three pounds. It was no wonder that Dick was quite proud of it.
