That would partly wake him and set him crying,
or shouting what he would do to Alfred.
Throughout the night the roar of the stream outside grew louder, and at
daybreak it was running feather white. As for the snow, most of it had
disappeared; stumps, logs and stones showed through it everywhere; the
swamps were flooded, and every hole, hollow and depression was full of
water.
That was Wednesday. We made a soup of the beef bone, cooked johnny-cake
from the corn meal and kept Halstead as quiet as possible. We had left
home early Sunday morning and knew that our folks would be greatly
worried about all three of us.
As the day passed, the stream rose steadily until the water was nearly
up to the camp door.
"If only we had a boat, we could put Halse in it and go home," Addison
said.
We discussed making a raft, for if we could navigate the stream we could
descend it to within four miles of the old farm. But the roaring yellow
torrent was clearly so tumultuous that no raft that we could build would
hold together for a minute; and we resigned ourselves to pass another
night in the camp.
The end of the thaw was at hand, however; at sunset the sky lightened,
and during the evening the stars came out.
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