“He won’t go back,” he shouted, and, indeed, there was Jack squatted on his haunches close by his little master and looking gravely back as though he were looking a last good-by.

“Hi there!” shouted old Joel again.  “How am I goin to git along without that dawg?  Throw him off, Boy—­throw him off, I tell ye!” Chad seized the dog by the shoulders, but Jack braced himself and, like a child, looked up in his master’s face.  Chad let go and shook his head.

A frantic yell from Tall Tom at the bow oar drew every eye to him.  The current was stronger than anyone guessed and the raft was being swept by an eddy straight for the point of the opposite shore where there was a sharp turn in the river.

“Watch out thar,” shouted old Joel, “you’re goin to ’bow’!” Dolph and Rube were slashing the stern oar forward and back through the swift water, but straight the huge craft made for that deadly point.  Every man had hold of an oar and was tussling in silence for life.  Every man on shore was yelling directions and warning, while the women shrank back with frightened faces.  Chad scarcely knew what the matter was, but he gripped his rifle and squeezed Jack closer to him.  He heard Tom roar a last warning as the craft struck, quivered a moment, and the stern swept around.  The craft had “bowed.”

“Watch out—­jump, boys, jump!  Watch when she humps!  Watch yo’ legs!” These were the cries from the shore, and still Chad did not understand.  He saw Tom leap from the bow, and, as the stern swung to the other shore, Dolph, too, leaped.  Then the stern struck.  The raft humped in the middle like a bucking horse—­the logs ground savagely together.  Chad heard a cry of pain from Jack and saw the dog fly up in the air and drop in the water.  He and his gun had gone up, too, but he came back on the raft with one leg in between two logs and he drew it up in time to keep the limb from being smashed to a pulp as the logs crashed together again, but not quickly enough to save the foot from a painful squeeze.  Then he saw Tom and Dolph leap back again, the raft whirled on and steadied in its course, and behind him he saw Jack swimming feebly for the shore—­fighting the waves for his life, for the dog was hurt.  Twice he turned his eyes despairingly toward Chad, and the boy would have leaped in the water to save him if Tom had not caught him by the arm.

“Tell him to git to shore,” he said quickly, and Chad motioned, when Jack looked again, and the dog obediently made for land.  Old Joel was calling tenderly: 

“Come on, Jack; come on, ole feller!”

Chad watched with a thumping heart.  Once Jack went under, but gave no sound.  Again he disappeared, and when he came up he gave a cry for help, but when he heard Chad’s answering cry he fought on stroke by stroke until Chad saw old Joel reach out from the bushes and pull him in.  And Chad could see that one of his hind legs hung limp.  Then the raft swung around the curve out of sight.