We made for Birch Island. The swells threw us about amazingly. There is
much strength and friskiness in these fresh-water surges. Those were
wild moments. Fred, Farr and Scott were pulling with might and main. The
spray flew over us; the spatters drenched us. I expected every moment
that we should be swamped. And as we drew near the island our case
seemed not much improved. The waves broke against it fiercely.
"It won't do to let her run on there!" exclaimed Farr. "It will swamp
her."
"Yes," said Fred; "but it is not deep water. Sit still and pull till I
give the word, then jump out, everybody, and ease her ashore.
"Now for it! Over with you!" he shouted, a moment afterwards.
We leaped out, and carried the boat by main strength high upon the
land.
[Illustration: "NOW FOR IT! OVER WITH YOU!"]