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he said hurriedly; "Ed and Will to the other; the boat must be badly wrenched, and she'll fill with water. Pump like maniacs. The boys went to their posts, and managed to work the pumps, though with difficulty. Water came freely, in answer to their efforts, showing that Phil's conjecture was correct. . .
The boat had passed safely through the first stretch of timber lands, and was now floating over a broad reach of open plantation country. But the fog was gone now, and, as there was woodland in sight a few miles farther on in the direction in which the current was carrying them, Phil and his friends felt that their respite was likely to be a brief one.
A little later, as the boat began floating more steadily, Phil called out:
"Go below, Ed, and see how much water is in the hold."
Ed's report convinced the young captain that the leaks were at least not gaining on the pumps. An hour later, the boat having become quite steady again, Phil found that the pumps were gaining on the water, which by that time did not rise above the flooring.
The boat had by this time passed again into a forest, and, while the current was now a steady one, it was still very strong. Phil considered the situation very carefully, and decided upon his course of action.
"Take a line in a skiff, Will, and pass it once round
a tree, then run off with the end of it and hold on, letting it slip as slowly as possible on the tree till the boat comes to a halt. Then make fast."
To the others he explained:
"We must check her speed gradually. In such a current as this, to stop her suddenly would sling her against some tree like a whip cracker."
By the time that Irv pushed off in his skiff Will had got his line in place around a tree, and had rowed away fifty yards with the end of it. As it tightened, the rope began slipping on the tree, dragging the skiff toward it.
Phil called to Will:
"Don't get hurt, Will! Let go your rope when you are dragged nearly to the tree."
Will did so just in time to save himself from an ugly collision; but his efforts had considerably checked the flatboat's speed, and by the time he let go the line Irv had the other rope around a tree and was repeating the operation. The second line brought the boat to a standstill, and under Phil's direction she was securely made fast both bow and stern, so that she could not swing about in any direction.
GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON.
THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES.
See the kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall,
From the lofty elder tree.
- But the Kitten, how she starts,
What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of fire!
Has it in her power again;
Now she works with three or four,
Far beyond in joy of heart.
There is no dog like the Scotch collie for a sheep guardian. He knows every sheep in the flock, and can separate them from those of other flocks should they have strayed.
Should they be buried in snowdrifts, he will discover them by his sense of smell, and help his master in extricating them.
During that terrible winter of 1880, I saw a shepherd, his collie, and some sheep they had rescued.
The white outlines of the mountainous country were not only obscured, but totally altered, by the fantastic snowdrifts, which assumed such unexpected forms that an apparently solid bank might be only a thin bridge which spanned a crevice, a fall into which was certain death.
Nor was this all the danger. It might be thought that the shepherd need only retrace the tracks which he and his dog had made. But those tracks did not exist, for the fierce wind circled round and round, wherever its current was arrested by any obstacle, caught up the snow in a cloud of white powder, and finally let it settle into the most extraordinary and