"Yes, that's another comfort, and we've got more room than we had aboard the Clytie," said Joe.
"Don't go to making fun of the old craft," cautioned his chum. "She served us well. I'm sorry she's gone."
They went to sleep with the rain pattering on the roof of the cabin, thankful for the raft, in spite of the havoc it had made in their plans.
A dreary, drizzling day succeeded. They made themselves as comfortable as they could in the cabin, and went carefully over their food supplies.
"Enough for two days, anyhow," said Mr. Ringold. "After that, well"
He shrugged his shoulders, and did not finish. But they all knew what he meant.
They were in the middle of a wide and desolate stretch of the Mississippi. In the far distance, as they rushed along with the swift current, they could see small towns and villages. They could not, however, reach them, for they could not steer the raft. They tried to make a long sweep, such as the lumbermen use, but they had no pole long enough, and no tools with which to cut one out of the lumber at their disposal.
Joe and Blake did, indeed, try to construct a pole out of one of the loose slabs on the side of
