All three boys bent their heads and listened intently. The only sound
that came to them, however, was the soft sighing of the breeze through
the treetops and the occasional call of some bird preparing to settle
down for the night. The sun was low in the west, just sinking below the
fringe of the forest which skirted the little lake. All seemed quiet and
serene.
"What did you think you heard, Fred?" demanded Grant after the lapse of
several moments.
"I thought I heard a call. In fact I was almost--"
Once more he stopped suddenly and listened. "What was that?" he
exclaimed.
"I heard something, too," whispered John excitedly. "Listen!"
"I don't hear a thing," muttered Grant. "I must be deaf."
"There it is again," cried Fred suddenly.
"I heard it, too," exclaimed John. "It came from that end of the
island."
"That's the direction Pop took," said Grant in alarm. "Perhaps there has
something happened to him."
"We'll soon find out anyway," cried Fred. "Come along!" and he began to
run at top speed in the direction George had gone a short time before.
Close behind him followed Grant and John. Every boy was worried and
beset with a thousand and one evil thoughts as to what might have
befallen their light-hearted and well-loved comrade. Almost everything
conceivable in the way of misfortune suggested itself to their anxious
minds.
"Keep close to the shore, Fred," called Grant. "He was fishing, you
know."
Fred did keep as close to the shore as possible, but it was no easy task
a great many times. The island was rough and rocky and heavily wooded,
the trees growing down to the water's edge in many places. Crashing
through the underbrush and making a great deal of noise the three boys
raced along. Whether or not the cry which John and Fred had heard was
repeated they could not say, for the tumult of their own mad course
drowned out all other noises.
After what seemed a long time they came to the end of the island. Here
the forest gave way to the rocks which ran out a considerable distance,
forming a small peninsula. At the tip end were several big boulders
which had become separated from the main island after long years of
action by the water and in order to reach them it was necessary to jump
across several feet from one to the other. Towards these boulders the
three boys made their way.
"I don't see anybody," panted John.
"Nor I," agreed Fred. "I don't hear anything, either."
"Listen," warned Grant, holding up his hand.
"And look, too," murmured Fred under his breath.
Suddenly John started forward excitedly. "Look," he cried, "there he
is."
"Where? Where?" demanded Grant.
"Down there in the water. Don't you see him?"
"Help! Help!" came the call, and John, Fred and Grant sped to the
assistance of their comrade. His head showed above the water and he
splashed a great deal in an effort to remain afloat. That he was very
rapidly becoming weaker, however, was plain to be seen.
"Give me a hand, somebody," cried George.
"All right, Pop. We'll be right with you," Grant reassured him.
George was struggling in the water close to one of the big boulders. Its
sides were so steep and high, however, that he was unable to climb out.
From his actions it also appeared as if he were keeping himself afloat
merely with his hands.
"Get a stick, Grant," cried Fred. "You can hold it out for him to take
hold of."
"Where is one? Find one, quick!" exclaimed Grant excitedly.
"Here you are," said John. "This one will do. Take this."
He held out a stick some six or eight feet long which had been lying on
the shore at his feet. Grant seized it eagerly and hastened to George's
assistance.
"Hurry up, Grant!" called George. "I can't last much longer!"
"Here you are!" cried Grant, leaning out from the shore as far as he
dared and holding the stick toward his friend. "Grab hold of this."
After one or two unsuccessful attempts George succeeded in catching hold
of the stick. Grant drew him up as close to the rock as possible and
then Fred and John bending down over the edge seized him by his arms and
quickly pulled him out of the water and to safety.
"How did you happen to--" began Fred, when John suddenly interrupted him.
"What have you got around your legs?" he demanded in astonishment.
"My fishing line," said George, smiling weakly. "It tripped me up."
"Well, I should think it might," exclaimed John. "How in the world did
you ever get it wound around you like that?"
"I had my rod in one hand," said George, "and I tried to jump from that
rock over there to this one. I landed here all right, but when I jumped
the line got twisted around my ankles and I lost my balance. It finally
tripped me up and I fell into the water. When I got there the line kept
getting more and more tangled up the harder I kicked, until finally I
could hardly move my feet at all. I had to keep afloat just by using my
hands."
"That was certainly a bright trick," exclaimed Fred. "Why, you might
have drowned."
"I thought I was going to be," said George grimly. "I was getting pretty
tired."
"Where's your rod?" inquired Fred.
"At the other end of the line. A steel rod doesn't float, you know."
"That's true," laughed Fred. "Haul in that line, John."
Of course all the line unrolled from the reel before the rod was rescued
but it was finally brought safely to shore. A large section of the line,
however, had to be sacrificed as it was found almost impossible to
untangle the mass that had wound itself around George's legs and ankles,
and a knife was necessary to free him.
"Where are your fish, Pop?" inquired Fred. "I suppose you dropped them
all when you fell in," and he nudged Grant as he spoke.
"I had only one," replied George ruefully. "He did fall in and I lost
him."
"What kind was it?"
"A black bass."
"A big one, I suppose."
"No, he wasn't either. He was pretty small. I didn't have any luck at
all."
"You ought to have taken one of the canoes," said Grant. "You can't
expect to catch anything from the shore."
"He'd probably upset the canoe," said Fred. "I don't think we should
allow him to do anything alone after this."
"Huh!" was George's only reply to this sally.
"Feel like walking, Pop?" asked Grant. "If you do we'd better go back to
camp and get some dry clothes for you."
"I was just thinking that," said George. "I'm commencing to feel chilly.
These nights in the Adirondacks are pretty cool, I find."
"They certainly are," John agreed. "Let's go back."
"I could eat something, too," remarked Fred. "The cool air also seems to
give you an appetite."
"Come on," cried Grant, and a moment later the four young campers were
retracing their steps to the tent.
Arriving there, George made haste to change his wet garments for some
dry ones. Fred and John collected wood for the fire while Grant made
ready to cook the dinner. A short time later the odor of sizzling bacon
filled the air, lending an even keener edge to four appetites that were
sharp already. The first meal in camp was voted a great success by every
member of the party, and all agreed that Grant was a wonderful cook.
"Isn't this great!" exclaimed George, when the dishes had all been
washed.
The four young friends were seated around a camp-fire crowned by a great
birch log that blazed so brightly it lighted up everything for a
considerable distance round about them.
"It surely is," agreed John. "I don't see how you could beat this."
"Just think of it," said Fred. "We're here for all summer, too."
"Oh, the summer will go fast enough. Don't worry about that," Grant
warned him. "It'll be over before we know it."
At last the fire burned low until it was nothing but a mass of glowing
embers. John arose to his feet and yawned. "I'm going in and try those
new beds we made this afternoon," he said. "I'm tired."
"I'm sleepy, too," exclaimed Grant. "Let's all turn in."
The few remaining coals from the fire were carefully scattered so that
they could do no damage during the night. These four friends had had
enough experience in the woods to know what a forest fire means. They
also knew that all good woodsmen were careful about such things and
always had regard for the rights of others.
Every one was sleepy and it was not long before four tired and happy
boys were stretched upon four sweet-smelling balsam beds, sound asleep.
How long he slept John could not tell when he suddenly awoke with the
feeling that he had heard a cry for help.