hat hole to
scramble through."

"You are about right, lad; it will be a sight more comfortable than
sitting here, for what with the rain and the splashing up of this broken
water one might as well be under a pump."

The axes were called into requisition again, for the door was jammed too
firmly to be moved.

"Chop it up, and shove the pieces under the tarpaulin, Sam; they will
get a bit drier there, and we may want them for a fire presently; there
is no saying how long we may be in this here floating forest. That's
right. Now, hang one of them lanterns up in the cabin. That's not so
bad. Now, lad, our clothes-bags are all right on these hooks. I am just
going to rig myself up in a dry shirt and jacket, and advise you to do
the same; we may as well have the upper half dry if we must be wet
below."

Frank was glad to follow Hiram's example, and a dry flannel shirt made
him feel thoroughly warm and comfortable. He handed a shirt to each of
the negroes, and the whole party, clustered in the little cabin, were
soon comparatively warm and cheerful, in spite of the water, which came
up to their knees, and when the boat rose on a wave, swashed up over the
locker on which they were sitting. A supply of dry tobacco and some
pipes were produced by Hiram, and the little cabin was soon thick with
smoke.

"Taking it altogether," Hiram said, "I regard this as about the queerest
sarcumstance that ever happened to me; it was just a thousand to one
that tree would have smashed us up and sunk us then and thar. It was
another thousand to one that when we were staved in we shouldn't have
got fixed so that the boat couldn't sink; if any one had told it me as a
yarn I should not have believed it."

"It has indeed been a wonderful escape," Frank said, "and I think now
that we should be ungrateful indeed if every one of us did not fervently
thank God for having preserved us."

"Right you are, lad; praying ain't much in my way--not regular praying;
but we men as lives a life like this, and knows that at any moment a
snag may go through the boat's bottom, thinks of these things at times,
and knows that our lives are in God's hands. It ain't in nature to go
up and down this broad river, special at night, when the stars are
shining overhead, and the dark woods are as quiet as death, and there
ain't no sound to be heard but the lap of the water against the bow for
a man not to have serious thoughts. It ain't our way to talk about it. I
thi