The boys kept close to the island, and presently the ground had so descended that the water was rushing in among the trees.
"Oh, anywhere," replied Hal; adding: "Let's go in here."
"Well, then, you scull," said Ned, dealing the boat a sudden twist with the left-hand oar, and sending it obliquely into the woods.
With a quick motion he unshipped the oars from their locks and himself from the soap-box, and sitting comfortably on the straw, his back against the half-deck of the bows, he took it easy.
Between the hickories and the oaks glided the nimble craft, the screw-like movement of the sculling oar, deftly managed by Hal, giving it an agreeable wriggling, rocking motion.
The water varied in depth. In some places the oar-blade touched bottom; again no bottom was to be found. Above the surface in the shallows the tops of weeds and bushes swayed with the current. Not a sound of human life was heard. The only noises to break the silence were the twitterings of uneasy birds amidst the branches of the trees, and once in a while a slight scrape from the boat's prow as Hal steered through a narrow channel.
It was an enchanted island, spellbound by the freshet.
"Doesn't it seem queer, though!" commented Ned, after they had gone a short distance, upon a zigzag course.
"I should say!" agreed Hal, letting the boat drift, and with eyes and ears drinking in the novelty of it all. "Where will we make for?"
"I don't care," responded Ned. "See! there's a barn."
Sure enough, directly ahead was a small, unpainted, weather-beaten barn just visible between the tree-trunks. Hal began to scull gently, and as they drew nearer they saw a house, also, not far from it.
The scene was rather pathetic--this home, lonely and deserted, standing waist-deep in the midst of the waters, its only companions the silent forest trees.
"The folks who lived here must have skipped in a big hurry," observed Ned. "They didn't even stop to close their up-stairs windows."
"Perhaps that's the way they got out," suggested Hal.
"He's shut in the house," said Hal, poising his oar and listening.
"Poor fellow! He's around somewhere, that's sure," agreed Ned. "Let's go nearer and see about him."
With the howling of the dog to urge them, they sculled forward. First in their path was the barn; and with a change in their angle of view Ned cried:
