r
hearts.

Finding the friend whose name Erastus had given them, they made
cautious inquiries and were pleased to learn that he had just returned
from a visit across the big river in a dilapidated sailboat he owned,
and which neither of the white boys would have ever dared navigate out
upon the broad bosom of the Mississippi. That was as much as Henry
would say, but they could read between the lines that the fugitive was
safe over in Arkansas, where his life would not be in danger.

While here in this camp of course Nick insisted on having some more
swimming lessons. He was the happiest fellow in the wide world when he
actually found that he was able to make progress, still aided by Jack
and the cork life preserver. By degrees, however, his teacher meant to
insist upon his depending entirely on his own powers; and it would not
be long before the cork would be discarded and Nick a full-fledged
swimmer.

Monday came, and with it a cold storm. But they had made up their
minds, and were not to be kept back by such a little thing. So at
eight a start was made, all of them donning their oilskins, and Nick
also wearing a most expansive grin. Josh was forever calling it the
"smile that won't come off," and everyone knew that it was the pride of
being able to keep himself afloat that made Buster so happy.

George was tempted to speed ahead, forgetting his resolve. So
presently each of the three boats moved along in lonely state, miles
separating them by the time afternoon arrived.

Jack and Jimmie found shelter in one of the false channels or cut-offs
that had now begun to be frequent sights along the way. It was a very
wild night they put in, and more than a few times Jack wondered how
their comrades might be faring, only hoping that they were as
comfortable as himself and Jimmie.

All night long the heavy seas banged up against the shore, driven by a
strong northwest wind that reached the proportions of a gale at times.
The boys were more than thankful that they were not exposed to the fury
of the storm, but had a snug harbor where they could ride it out in
safety.

CHAPTER XX.

THE CASTAWAYS OF THE SWAMP.

"Looks like we made a big mistake in trying to navigate that short cut
the planter told us about, Jimmie!"

"How long we been in this scrape, I'd loike to know, Jack?"

"Well, this is the third day now we've been pushing and poling around,
sometimes thinking we must be getting back to the river