DRIVEN ASHORE. — rROSPECTING. 257 



aboard, to be suri', but tlie boat, seemed to feel the responsi- 

 bility of tlie occasion (juite as much as did the brave and 

 honest boatman. 



We aimed for a i;reen, timbered point, half or three-quar- 

 ters of a mile below, as being directly in the only course 

 Ave could go, and the only place (for the dead timber) where 

 a landing seemed possil)le. After what seemed hoin-s — 

 probably not many minutes — we neared it, our eyes 

 anxiously scanned the ragged, tossing and groaning dead 

 drift-timl)er for an opening large enough for our boat to 

 run into in safet}' — and we found just one such, which I 

 had observed and remarked upon, in passing a few days 

 ])efore, as being a possible retuge for some poor fellow in a 

 storm. Into this opening we shot the lioat to the timber 

 pil(jd on the shore, hauled it out on the stranded drift- 

 wood, took out our luggage, placed heavy sticks across the 

 boat to prevent its being blown over upon the sharp prongs 

 of broken limbs— and then, safe at last, and happy to feel 

 solid earth again under our feet, we drew a (lee)> lacatli of 

 relief and looked thankfully out over the wild ;uid marvel 

 ous way we had come. 



Our first feeling was of hearty satisfaction that we were 

 ashore anywhere. Our next was a desire to know what 

 awaited us, now that we were ashore. Young, taking the 

 axe, said, "Well, I guess I'll go up here and' see what kind 

 of a country we've got into, anyhoAv!" and plunging into 

 the thicket, disappeared. I sat on a rock and rather dubi- 

 ously contemplated the tumbling and desolate waters and 

 the more desolate dead sw^amps and bogs beyond, and the 



