again, and then
finding ourselves deeper and deeper in the slough. The worst of it is
our grub heap looks mighty low, Jimmie," and Jack glanced seriously at
his companion.

They had been tempted to take the advice of a friendly planter on the
day after the big storm. In fact, to tell the truth, it was Jimmie's
urging that had influenced the skipper of the _Tramp_ to enter the
opening that yawned before them, and allow the current to swing them
along at a swift pace.

But by degrees, after twisting and turning until they lost all trace of
their bearings, that treacherous current had died away until they found
themselves in a lagoon that seemed as still as death.

They had tried to navigate by means of their propeller. Then, fearful
that the supply of gasolene might become exhausted they had resorted to
the pole. Two days had passed and so far as they could see they were
worse off than ever.

Now and then they came to dry ground on which they set foot with
renewed hopes that were soon dashed again. Jack managed to pot a few
gray squirrels, and they cooked them by a fire made in a hickory ridge.
If it came to the worst Jack said they could catch fish, or shoot some
of the numerous raccoons that eyed them inquisitively.

"Then there are plenty of muskrats in sight," he had added; at which
Jimmie held up his hands in horror, until Jack explained that if
properly cooked the "musquash" of the Indian was considered very good
food and eaten by many French Canadian trappers in the Northwest and
Canada.

"Of course," Jack went on, when Jimmie became curious as to how they
had lost the right channel, "it's of much more importance how we're
ever going to get out of this network of watercourses than how we came
here. But, honestly, I'm afraid we made a mistake in the beginning."

"Took the wrong cut-off, do ye mane?" asked the other.

"That's just what struck me, Jimmie. And now, here's the third night
ahead of us and we no nearer escape than in the beginning."

"Sure I do be thinkin' they ought to be happy," remarked the Irish lad,
after they had gone on pushing for another half hour.

"Who do you mean?" asked Jack.

"Herbie and Josh. Don't ye say, Jack, all this time we're flounderin'
around in this place the _Comfort_ is gaining eight hours ivery day."

"That's so, on us," Jack went on, thoughtfully. "But then there's
George to contend with. I suppose they're all waiting at the next
station and wondering w