[Illustration: Fig. 66. Dragging the Scow over to the Island.]
As no better position offered at the time we pitched our tent in the clearing, pending a thorough search for a more suitable place elsewhere. Around the tent we dug a trench about a foot deep to prevent water from entering our quarters when it rained. It was about time for Uncle Ed and Mr. Schreiner to appear with the rest of our luggage, so we did not have time to do much exploring, but sauntered southward along the shore, always on the lookout for their arrival. About a quarter of a mile from the tent we came across the wreck of an old bridge, which had been washed down by some freshet. This was a great find, and served us many purposes, as will appear later.
While we were examining the wreck we heard a distant "halloa" from the mainland. There was Uncle Ed sitting on a pile of goods on the railroad bank looking for all the world like an Italian immigrant. We answered with a shout and scrambled back to the clearing. Then we ran splashing through the water, pushing the boat before us. It didn't take us long to load up and carry him back to the island.
[Illustration: Fig. 67. The Rustic Table.]
Uncle Ed entered into our fun at once. He was as enthusiastic as a boy over the surroundings, and when we told him of the old bridge he started right off to investigate, taking the ax with him. Soon he had pried off a number of the planks, which we used for a flooring to our tent. Then he built us a table out of four forked sticks, driven into the ground, and supporting two cross sticks, on which a pair of planks were laid.
"Well, now, boys," said Uncle Ed, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, "I am as thirsty as a whale. Where do you get your drinking water? Is there a spring on the island?"
We told him that we used the river water.
[Illustration: Fig. 68. The Small Filter.]
"What, river water! That won't do at all," he cried. "You'll all have the typhoid fever. We must build a filter. I brought some charcoal with me for this very purpose."
Taking one of our pails he broke a hole in the bottom of it and stuffed a sponge in the hole. A layer of small stones was then placed in the pail, over this a layer of broken charcoal with the dust carefully blown out, then a layer of clean sand, and finally a layer of gravel. Each layer was about two inches thick. The pail was suspended from a branch in a cool place and proved an excellent filter, the water trickling out through the sponge being perfectly pure and sweet, no matter how dirty it had been when poured in; but the capacity of the filter was too small, and Uncle Ed said he would make us a larger one on the morrow if no spring was discovered in the meantime.