he rocks in the
river, leaping from one to the next and heading for the island.

It was no easy journey, and when but half-way to Moosetail Island Dave
slipped and went into the stream up to his knees. He floundered around
for a moment, splashing the water into his face and over his coat and
cap.

"Phew! this is lots of fun!" was his grim comment, as he at length
found himself on a flat rock, catching his breath. "Well, I am
half-way over, anyway."

The remainder of the distance proved easier traveling, and ten minutes
later our hero stood on the island. It was now raining steadily, and
the darkness of the storm had settled everywhere.

"I guess the best thing I can do is to move right around the shore of
this island," he reasoned. "By doing that I am bound to strike one of
the camps, sooner or later."

He moved along as rapidly as the rocky shore of Moosetail Island
permitted. He had to proceed with care, for there were many dangerous
pitfalls.

At length his heart was gladdened by the sight of a rude log cabin,
set in the trees a little back from the water. He hurried to it and
found the door and window closed. Evidently the spot was deserted.

"Nobody here," he murmured, and his heart sank for the moment, for he
could see that the camp had not been used for a long time. Then he
went on, the rain in the meanwhile coming down harder than ever. The
downfall made him think of the dam that was said to be weak. What if
the present storm should make that structure give way?

"I wish we were all out of this," he murmured. "I wonder if it would
do any good to call?"

He set up a yell and listened, and then he yelled again. From a long
distance came an answering cry.

"Hurrah, that's somebody, anyway!" he exclaimed. "I hope it was one of
the boys!"

He stumbled in the direction of the cry. Then he yelled once more, and
again came the answering call. But now Dave was sure it was a man's
voice, and he was somewhat disappointed.

"Where are you?" he called out, a moment later. "Where are you?"

"This way! Come this way!" was the reply, and soon Dave passed through
a patch of timber and around some rocks and reached a spot where there
was a tiny cove, with a stretch of fine sand. Facing the cove was a
neat log cabin with a small lean-to, the latter containing a tiny
stove.

A tall, good-natured man stood in the lean-to, peering out into the
rain. He watched Dave's approach with interest. He looked to be what
he