e up his mind not to give way to his temper, however provoking
Jake's conduct might be, and as soon as he could master himself, he
renewed his resolution, which had been broken only in the moment of
sudden awakening.

The boat was not damaged in the least, but her position was a
difficult one from which to extricate her. She lay on the upper side
of a pile of drift which had lodged against some trees, and a floating
tree had swept down against her side, pinning her to the hammock, as
such drift piles are called in the South. The work of freeing her
required all of Sam's judgment, as well as all the boys' strength, but
within half an hour, or a little more, the boat was again in the
stream.

"Now," said Sam, speaking very calmly, "we've lost a good deal of
sleep and must make it up. Jake Elliott, you will take the paddle
again, and keep it till sunrise."

"Well, but what if he runs us into another snarl?" asked Sid Russell,
uneasily.

"He won't make any more mistakes," replied Sam.

"How can you be sure of that?" queried Tom.

"Because I have whispered in his ear," said Sam.

What Sam had whispered in Jake's ear was this:--

"_If any further accidents happen to-night, I'll put you ashore in
the swamp, and leave you there. I mean it._"

He did mean it, and Jake was convinced of the fact. He knew very well,
too, that if he should be left there in the swamp, with all the creeks
out of their banks, the chances were a thousand to one against his
success in getting back to civilization again. Sam's threat was a
harsh one, but nothing less harsh would have answered his purpose, and
he knew very well that Jake would not dare to incur the threatened
penalty.

The boys slept again, and soundly. The night waned and day dawned, and
still the current carried them forward. They breakfasted in the boat,
first stripping to the waist and sluicing their heads, necks, arms and
chests with water. Breakfast was scarcely over when the boat shot out
of the Nepalgah into the Connecuh river, whereat the boys gave a
cheer. About noon they entered the Escambia river, and their speed
slackened. Here they had met the influence of the tide which checked
the force of the current, and their progress grew steadily slower,
until Sam directed the use of the paddles. They had long since left
the drift wood behind, lodged along the banks, and they had now a
broader and straighter stream than before, although it was still not
very broad nor ver