“Right you are, old man! and I won’t do so again. As it was, I came out of it unharmed; and now that we have recovered the fur-seal’s tooth, luck, according to your belief, must be on our side.”
Soon after this, depredations on the camp having almost entirely ceased, Gerald Hamer relieved our lads from guard duty, and set them to collecting drift-wood on the beach, to be cut up and used as fuel under the boiler of the new steamboat, the _Chimo_, as she had been christened at her launching.
As all the drift in the vicinity of St. Michaels had been gathered up for use in that fort, Phil and Serge were compelled to go long distances up the beach, gather what logs they could find into rafts, and pole them to the camp. After three of such rafts had been successfully landed, they went one day several miles from camp for the one more that would be necessary to complete their stock of fuel.
They worked hard all day at the collecting of this, and, at length, shortly before sunset, had made ready a larger raft than usual. They were in great haste, for they feared darkness might overtake them before they reached camp. Finally, Serge, who stood on the forward or outer end of the raft, push-pole in hand, called out to Phil, who had on long wading-boots, to shove off.
Into that shove Phil threw all his strength, so that the mass of logs had gathered good headway by the time the deepening water compelled him to scramble on board. He sat still for a minute, or until the raft was nearly one hundred yards from shore, to recover his breath. Then he suddenly sprang to his feet, crying “Stop her, Serge! stop her! I have left my pole on shore.”
As Serge hurriedly tried to comply with this request, his pole, catching under the moving mass, was snapped short off. A strong wind was blowing off the land, and instantly both lads realized the danger of their situation.
“How could I have been so careless!” exclaimed poor Serge, his face pale with dismay. “It wasn’t your carelessness, old man; it was mine,” replied Phil. “If I hadn’t left that wretched pole on shore, we could have managed her easy enough. Now I am going to do my best to repair my fault.”
As he spoke, the impetuous lad began pulling off his boots.