Almost at once he felt his head above the surface of the river,
but his eyes were so full of muddy water that he could see
nothing at all. Instead of trying to swim, Phil lay over on his
back, floated and began blinking industriously to get the water
out of his eyes. He soon found that he could see once more,
though at that moment there was nothing to be seen in the
blackness of the night.
"There's the 'Marie,'" he cried. Phil raised his voice in a good
lusty howl for help, but none heard him. He could see the lights
of the steamboat and they appeared to be far away.
"There is only one thing left for me to do, and that is to strike
out for the shore. I wonder which way the shore is?"
Once more he raised himself in the water, for an instant, and
gazed toward the rapidly disappearing lights of the 'Marie.'
"She is going downstream, so if I swim to the left I should reach
shore after a while," decided the lad.
He did not know that the boat had in the meantime made a sharp
turn to her right and that in turning to the left he would be
swimming downstream, making his attempt to reach shore a
difficult one indeed.
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