of
the Arkansas, and for miles and miles the country ain't much better than
a swamp at the best of times. You can swim to them trees, and roost up
in the branches, if the fancy takes yer, and may be we may decide that's
the best thing to do, when we have talked it over; but as to getting to
land, you may put that notion out of your head altogether. I told you,
lad, last night, I didn't like the lookout, and I don't like it a bit
better this morning, except that I look to be dry and comfortable in
another hour. What's to come after that I don't quite see."

Frank was silent. The prospect, now that he understood it, was
unpleasant indeed. There they were with a disabled and waterlogged boat,
in the middle of a district submerged for many miles, and surrounded
beyond that by fever-stricken swamps, while the prospect of any craft
happening to come along was remote indeed. For some minutes he smoked
his pipe in silence.

"You consider it impossible for us to make our escape through the wood."

"Just unpossible, lad. We might make our way from tree to tree, like a
party of monkeys, but we should get to creeks where we couldn't cross;
we should be half our time swimming. We could take no food to speak of
with us; we should get lost in the swamps, if ever we got through the
forest. No, lad; my present idea is it is unpossible, though, if we
detarmines at last there ain't nothing else for us to do but to try for
it, Hiram Little ain't the man to die without making a hard fight for
his life; but I tell you, lad, I looks on it as unpossible. You have
been on these banks with me, and you know how thick the trees and bushes
grow, so that a snake could hardly make his way through them. When the
river is at her level the ground ain't about a foot or two out of water,
and when the river falls--and it mayn't fall to its level for weeks--it
will just be a swamp of mud."

[Illustration: A FLOOD ON THE MISSISSIPPI.]

"Well, in that case," Frank said, "it seems to me that our only chance
is to repair the boat."

"That's just my idee, young fellow. There is a biggish hole on each
side, the ribs are smashed in, and a lot of damage is done, but we could
make a shift to mend it if we could get her ashore; but there ain't no
shore to get her to, that's the mischief of it; besides, here we are
stuck, and if we were to cut away the tree to loose her she would go
straight to the bottom."

"Yes, we mustn't cut her loose before we are alongs